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debunkingtherightwing · 4 months

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Tim Pool waxes poetic about biology, "sneaky fuckers", and masculinity....it's about as dumb as you might expect.

This promises to be painful (Photo credit; Timcast on Youtube)

If there is one lesson we all learnt on this blog in 2023, it's that Tim Pool might be one of the dumbest political commentators in recorded history. I figured what better way to wring in the New Year than watch one of his recent videos and fact-check them and laugh at the stupidity along the way!

Tim has thoughts on masculinity in this episode, unfortunately they are all very stupid ones. So, let's get into it shall we?

00:00, Tim Pool: "Oh boy we got a viral video of a young woman saying that when she went on a date with a bro, a mans man, and he paid the bill, whoo, she got all hot and bothered and felt the feminism leave her body."

Alright, so this video was making the rounds in the griftersphere recently. It was a video of some woman saying that after she went on a date and a guy paid the bill, she "felt the feminism leaving her body". The opinions of griftersphere commentators have been mixed, for example professional sociopath Matt Walsh didn't like it and said some predictably dumb crap about how woman are only motivated by money or something. Tim likes it because it lets him rant about "masculinity" for 20 minutes.

First of all, there is absolutely no way to verify the legitimacy of some anecdote that an influencer said in a TikTok video, that's why you don't see legitimate news organizations covering this story (that and the fact that nobody outside of these losers care).

Secondly, who the hell cares? This may come as a shock to Tim and Co but some random woman on TikTok isn't the net voice of every single woman on the planet.

Gee, it's almost as if women are all individuals with their own thoughts and feelings and stuff. But that can't be true! Woman all like the same things because some woman on TikTok told a probably made up story for likes.

How long is this crap I've decided to watch anyway? Can't be more than five minutes right?

Christ....

00:19, Tim Pool: "It started making me wonder about maybe the reason a lot of young women have these politics is because they aren't around actual men."

This take is stupid on multiple different levels.

So, according to Tim feminists are feminists because they haven't met the "right guy". To reach this conclusion you have to be extremely ignorant of feminism and really women in general. The feminism movement is about equal rights for women, some examples of some of the things a feminist might strive towards would be ending gender pay gaps or reducing sexual violence against women. Saying that women are feminists because of a lack of masculinity is essentially reducing all the challenges that women face due to a misogynistic society while also saying that women don't have autonomy outside of the men that they are around.

Tim is also categorizing men into "real men" and "fake men". This mindset has been pervasive throughout our society and has done nothing but damage the self-esteem and mental health of young males who don't fit that extremely linear idea of what a "real man" is. The fact of the matter is that not all men fit that idea but that's ok, there are many different paths to being a good person and if you are a good person that's all that matters at the end of the day.

0:52, Tim Pool: "I think a lot of younger women are surrounded by these low-t loser guys who are super effeminate and think that the media tells them what women actually want, in that they go on dates and say 'do you wanna split the bill?' and women are like 'sure'."

Some people are just naturally born with lower testosterone levels than other ones and that's ok, you can't just categorize somebody as a loser just because they have lower testosterone or are more effeminate.

Besides, the ideas of masculine and feminine men are just made up social constructs anyway. The day we start to judge people by their character and not these constructs of masculinity and femininity is the day society improves as a whole.

The media is also not telling men that they should split the bill, I'm pretty sure it's still considered good form for a man to pick up the tab on the first date.

01:21, Tim Pool: "Now in biology this term is called 'sneaky fucker', I am not making that up, it is quite literally the actual academic term."

The term is actually "kleptogyny" and the term sneaky fucker is more just an expression used to describe it (although I've also heard it applied to kleptogamy, shows how relatively obscure and unused the term sneaky fucker is in academia) . Tim is also using it completely incorrectly.

kleptogyny is a zoology term where males with less attractive characteristics copulate with a female in a harem while the male who is running the harem isn't looking. Couple problems with Tim's usage of it here.

The most obvious issue is that women aren't herd animals who don't have individual personalities outside of the pack, women have individual personalities and sexual preferences. Some women might like quote on quote "effeminate" men and some women might like the type of men that Tim seems to think that every single woman is into.

This term only applies if Tim thinks all women are dumb herd animals and if that's the case he's a detestable person. I personally think what's going on here is a little of Tim being a misogynist and a bit of Tim being a dumbass talking shit, not that that makes it any better.

1:30, Tim Pool: "So in biology they have this idea of the attractive male, the female seeking the male. Ah cardinals cardinal, you've seen cardinals, beautiful birds, very red. Ah but alas only the males are red. Why? The bright colors are to show off and attract the female. The females tend to be brown, more plain looking. But there's another reason why the males are bright red, to attract predators. You know I wondered about that, it's winter, there's snow everywhere, and there's these red birds everywhere that easily stand out. Because when the predators seek to strike they are drawn to the male and not the female and the female has the babies, the babies survive."

I am slightly used to Tim Pool's inane ramblings after I listened to one hour of him for this blog and it nearly broke my brain, however I ask again; WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! Why the hell are we talking about cardinals?!

This kind of stupid tangent is how Tim distracts from the fact that his points are completely ridiculous and have no basis in facts or even basic reality. While he isn't one in the kleptogyny sense, Tim Pool is a sneaky fucker (as are all of the grifters and hacks we talk about on this blog).

Anyway, he's right that scientific evidence backs up male cardinals being red to attract mates but he's completely off base about it being a way to attract predators. I found absolutely nothing saying that which makes me think that Tim just pulled that "fact" out of his ass.

How is this supposed to apply to human males by the way? So we're supposed to wear bright colors to attract females and uhhh....hope those bright colors attract muggers and criminals so that they kill you and the females babies are protected? Stepping in and protecting your partner is something I can get behind but dressing up like a pickup artist and not fighting back against an attacker are both stupid.

02:12, Tim Pool: Now in biology you also have the concept of the sneaky fucker. That is, there is a high value male that dances for the female, you know (how) birds do those dance, I love watching those nature videos where the birds are like they dance, it proves their value or whatever. But then you have the very strong males and they win over all the females and reproduce. The sneaky fucker is the lesser male who in the middle of the night sneaks in a lay to pass on it's genes."

I mean, kind of. Kleptogyny isn't necessarily sneaking in during the middle of the night, as a matter of fact it's mostly scene when the alpha male of a pack is distracted by another rival.

This again doesn't really apply to human males unless you assume that women are all attracted to the same type of male and that human males are sorted into objective categories of good men and bad men.

What would a human example of kleptogyny even look like? All the made up examples I could think of were dumb because they immediately remove any and all human agency from the equation from both the males and the females. It also ignores the existence of LGBTQ+ people who aren't only interested in male + female like straight people are.

02:44, Tim Pool: "I'm imagining this, I'm wondering I should say, if this young woman, she looks like she's in her 20's, has only been around sneaky fucker types. Male feminists, low-t weak men lacking passion and ambition. Men who don't get up, don't exercise, don't improve themselves and she thought 'this is what men are'."

So, those types of men don't apply to the definition of kleptogyny. The closest application I can think of would be a man who slips a woman a date rape drug while her boyfriend is distracted and rapes her and that's WAY too evil of an act to simply be labeled as kleptogyny.

Come to think of it, paying for a meal isn't even an alpha male move in Tim's imaginary cartoon version of reality. Any male can do that, even the ones that Tim described.

What's wrong with male feminists by the way? Would Tim rather we go back to the 1950's style "get back in the kitchen" way of treating woman? Not every male feminist is a whiny loser like Tim seems to think.

Tim's thought process whenever he sees a male feminist seems to be "Respecting women? Psh, loser."

3:04, Tim Pool: "Perhaps one of the big reasons many women are claiming to be LGBTQ is because they're not feeling strong attraction to males because they're not actually encountering real masculinity for which they're attracted to."

That's not how sexuality works. A woman doesn't become attracted to other women because she hasn't met the kind of male she'd be attracted to. The internet exists for one, odds are those women would find footage of the type of guy they are attracted to and realize that they are cis women. It's also extremely unlikely that those women would be alive for 20+ years and never meet the kind of male they would be attracted to. For this to work you'd have to say that you can just switch your sexuality whenever you feel like it.

Man, Tim is truly one of the dumbest guys in the griftersphere.

Tim then plays the TikTok so the next couple comments are him reacting to it.

04:43, Tim Pool: "Ok, I'm gonna pause right there. I've never had that negotiation about who pays, never. That's just me. Every date I've ever been on, every time I go out, I just throw my card down."

Congrats Tim, do you want a medal? Seriously, most guys do this, it's the polite thing to do. Paying for a meal on a date isn't some alpha and macho thing to do.

I doubt this TikTok's legitimacy the more I watch it. You're telling me that a lifelong feminist suddenly decides that she doesn't believe in feminism anymore because a guy paid for her meal at a restaurant? That's extremely stupid if true, which again I doubt it is. Her usage of the term "liberal snowflakes" at the end of the video also indicates to me that she's trying to appeal to right wing grifters like Tim for attention.

08:22, Tim Pool: "I'm not gonna speak for every single woman, women like different things."

"That's why I titled my video 'Women LOVE masculinity NOT male feminists', because I'm not speaking for every single woman."

By the way, the reason that you are seeing large time skips is because Tim spends a lot of this episode talking about nothing. Here's an example of what most of this episode is like.

12:04, Tim Pool: "If you ask a lot of guys, they'll say they don't like makeup. I don't know if it's the majority, but most of the people I know don't like makeup. Me personally, I think it's gross. I really find it gross and then I hear this from women all the time, they're like 'You don't really find it gross, your just saying that' ladies it's gross. I do not like makeup, it's gross."

Guys, I am just gonna go out on a limb here and say that Tim thinks makeup is gross. He's so subtle about it thought that it's honestly hard to tell.

12:38, Tim Pool: "Women dress up not for other men but for other women."

Tim doesn't really elaborate on this beyond "Oh yeah, I hate makeup so every other guy probably does as well so that must mean that women wear it for other women." He also contradicts this later in usual Tim Pool fasion.

13:10, Tim Pool: "Here's what happens. You get a woman like this and she says 'Look at the guy I'm gonna date with'. The other women say 'He's not socially acceptable because he's a Trump supporting chad bro' and they're like 'Oh, better not date that guy because he doesn't have social status.'"

In the history of things that has never happened with women, this is one of the most never happened things.

What does the guys politics have to do with this by the way? We don't even know what this alleged guy looks like, forget who he's voting for in the next election. For all we know he could be a democrat Biden loving male feminist who just happened to pay for her meal, maybe he doesn't have strong political opinions at all.

This is absolutely just Tim catering to his fanbase of conservative MAGA guys. "Hey guys, guess what? YOU'RE the hot chad-bro's because you like Trump or whatever."

13:54, Tim Pool: "Because I think what women are attracted to but what is socially acceptable is split, and so you have women on social media being like 'No no, Dylan Mulvaney, that's the person you wanna be with!'"

Tim Pool is legitimately obsessed with Dylan Mulvaney to an almost unhealthy degree. He manages to mention her once every other video.

By the way, who died and made Tim the expert on women and how they interact with one another? I don't see how women in a certain social group would know a guys politics unless he's extremely obnoxious about them and that's a total turn off.

15:32, Tim Pool: "100 men 100 women, 99 men die, that one man can make a whole bunch of babies in 9 months. A lot of work for that one guy but it's possible. 100 men 100 women, 99 women die, your done. You get one baby in nine months, ya ain't gonna be having a lot of babies, that woman's gonna be working more than any woman's ever worked to save their village. For this you have the expendable male, if a man dies society can still survive."

This is ignoring a lot of things, for example what if that one male is impotent? Or what if out of those 100 women, some have fertility issues, some miscarry, and some are LGBTQ+, the number of babies is slashed pretty quickly. Maybe this mythical village that we shall call "Strawmanville" could call in more women or men from neighboring villages and as a result they have more people to help with population growth. Or maybe the residents of Strawmanville can go to another village, get engaged, and then come back and repopulate Strawmanville with their new spouses.

That's not important though because this viewpoint is also harmful for both men and women. It makes men completely expendable and worthless in society and women only worthwhile for child rearing. Since our planet has 7.8 billion people on it, the situation that Tim is describing will never take place and thus has no bearing in reality.

Tim talks about how wolves were domesticated, it's super long and rant-ey so we'll skip straight to his point.

18:22, Tim Pool: "So how does a dog come to be? Social pressures created social behaviors, environmental pressures created social behaviors. The same is true for human beings and eachother. Human's that would send their women to go hunt likely would not last that long, so women end up not hunting."

Interesting that Tim would bring up women hunting since there is actually evidence that contradicts his statement. For example, a recent study found that 50% of prehistoric big game hunters were in fact females. Another paper published by the peer reviewed journal PLOS ONE showed that 79% of past and present foraging societies have had female hunters.

In essence, women have hunted for centuries.

19:09, Tim Pool: "What colors women wear, dresses, yeah that has nothing to do with social pressures."

Wait a minute, wait a minute, back up the bus. Didn't Tim say a couple minutes ago that women "dress up for other women"? So which is it Tim? Does the way a woman dresses have nothing to do with social pressures or is it influenced by the social pressures of other women?

Whenever I watch Tim Pool I find myself wondering how he is able to get away with being this bloody daft on his own show to an audience of over a million people. Do people just have that little critical thinking?! I just don't understand why he's successful.

On the Daily Wire side of the griftersphere I kind of see why they all have some success. Matt Walsh just allows people to indulge their personal prejudice with the thin veil of an "intellectual" (read: narcissistic ex shock jock) saying bigoted linguistic vomit and Ben Shapiro at least pretends to be a legitimate political commentator, Michael Knowles is simultaneously dumb and boring but again at least he kind of tries to make sense and not many people watch him anyway. I don't know enough about Candace Owens to comment, but we will talk about her at some point. As for the others we have talked about so far; Ezra Levant is just the Lite Canadian version of Alex Jones and Charlie Kirk and Dave Rubin are also really dumb but for different reasons and at least they can stay on track most of the time.

Tim? He's annoying to listen to, goes on long and stupid-ass tangents about nothing, and regularly contradicts himself over the course of single episodes. I just don't get it!

19:16, Tim Pool: "But of course, the reason why women weren't working, the reason why women weren't voting was absolutely because men were involved in external affairs and war, conflict, hunting, et cetera, and women stayed in the camp raising children because they're the only ones who can."

Of course, how could I have been so foolish? Here I was spending my life thinking that the reason why women weren't working or voting was because they literally weren't allowed to, boy was I sure wrong there! The reason was because they were in "the camp" where they belong raising children.

This is so idiotic. If I were to directly talk to Tim about this episode I'd ask him if he thinks women being allowed to vote is a good thing or not, because it sounds like he doesn't from where I'm sitting.

Conclusion:

Alright, so what have we learnt? Well, as is always the case when I watch Tim Pool stuff for this blog, I feel like I actively have lost brain cells watching this video. I certainly have learnt that Tim possesses the amazing talent of being able to stretch out coverage of a TikTok video into 21 minutes and I learnt that he likes saying the word "fucker".

#politics #fact check #right wing bullshit #tim pool #american politics #us politics #fact checking #misinformation #tim pool is a moron #debunking #internet misinformation #right wing disinformation #disinformation

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d-lissa · 10 months

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Liveblogging TMA - Season 3 - MAG 111-114

"Dying isn’t so bad. It’s staying dead that sucks."

FAMILY BUSINESS :

... Oh.

Oh no.

Gerry was adorable.

How could I have ever said anything bad about him ever ?

I love my dead goth son. Please let him rest now. He is so tired, he just wants to be dead and stay that way. God, I hate Gertrude.

Though I do find her relationship with Mary even funnier in retrospect. Just imagine, bitter exes fighting each other to keep the boy. Those two deserve each other, actually.

But anyway.

WE FINALLY GOT THE LORE !!! ALL 14 OF THE ODDITIES COMPLETELY CLASSIFIED I AM SCREAMING !

A description of what I think of each, I guess ? More like a list. I was going to list off every oddities from the beginning to now that we ever met and categorize them, but that's too much work now, so I'd rather do that on a relisten.

The Eye

So, the Archives, obviously. The Ceaseless Watcher, who always watch, and learn but never act, knowledge for knowledge's sake, at the detriment of anyone that might be caught up in something it would think is interesting. Which is.

I understand where Jon got his paranoia from then, this is the type of stuff that literally builds it up. God knows I'm not the type to trust people, so this would probably send me directly into a straight jacket.

The Spiral

The fear of madness, The Distortion, things not making sense that messes with your senses, to the point of making you think you lost your mind.

God, erm, I am relating to more of those than I thought I would. Of course, Helen and Michael. I enjoy Helen more than Michael, truth be told, mostly because I am curious as to how she'll turn out as a monster.

The End

The fear of death, of course, but not just, is it ? I can't imagine that something so big and so vague would only touch death and nothing else, especialy since we've seen that death doesn't really matter in this universe.

Oh, and we met its avatar already, haven't we ? Well, he was mentionned to us. "Antonio" something, trying ot warn off Gertrude. Pretty sure his real name is Oliver though.

The Stranger

That one probably overlaps a little with The Spiral, doesn't it ? But the fear of the unknown is pretty much the opposite of the Eye. Makes sense then that Elias would work so hard to avoid letting it happen, not even out of curiousity like I thought he might.

The Circus, obviously, the Big Bad of the season. I wonder how Breekon and Hope even factor into that though.

The Lonely

And yep, this one is another one I do not like. Being always alone, even when you are surrounded, trying to escape but never able to, just ... What a mess.

That being said, this one also has overlaps with another concept, The Vast. I am guessing that the Lonely is more of a Lukas family type of thing though.

The Desolation

Ah, it seems I had a confusion earlier, didn't I ? Between this one and The Dark. I feel kind of super stupid now, but I'm putting it on the lack of sleep !

The lightless flame, the pain, the Devastation. Destruction for Destruction's sake, with no end nor meaning outside of causing pain. I think this one would probably not get along with the Web and its ... Everything.

The Slaughter

This one also overlaps a lot with other concepts, and so I struggle to take it appart completely. This one is violence for violence's sake, with no meaning either, unstoppable.

I guess that War makes sense to belong to this category, though I am then curious about the Rayner that fell victim to it. It was the same Rayner that we know, right ? I'm pretty sure the guy's immortal at this point, or something.

The Vast

This one, I am assuming that it is more of a Simon Fairchild territory, as well as a Mike Crew one, right ?

Yeah, this one gets me as well, especially considering the big ass monster in those places, so big you can't even outline it with your eyes.

Endless open space forever.

The Buried

This is the antithesis of The Vast, just closed spaces and underground, no room for you at all, constricting, crushed on all sides.

The coffin was our first meeting with it, I think ? Since it leads down to somewhere. If not, then "Lost John's Cave". Honnestly though, if I were stuck there, I'd probably just go the Karolina route. Just. Lay down and try to sleep. If I'm gonna die anyway, why even panick about it ? It'll be painful enough as is, struggling will only make it worse.

The Dark

The cult of Maxwell Rayner, of course, the fear of the dark and everything that belongs in it, pretty straightfoward actually.

We have met it several times, in different forms, but I think that the Montauk's affair was its most glaring apparition.

The Corruption

I'll stick to calling it The Filth, personally, because this one is just ... Brr. Disgusting.

Of course, Jane Prentiss and the Hive, and Amherst and his ... Disgusting-ness. This one doesn't scare me, really, just creeps me out, in the sense that I want to puke whenever it is mentioned. Out of disgust.

The Web

Oh look, the spiders ! With a very evil kind of power. I am SO not surprised.

Yeah, they're definitely going to be bad guys at some point, like it just has to. Surprised that The Stranger is the one with the puppets though. I think it would fit it better, but who am I to judge ?

The Flesh

... I was joking, you know ? But, seriously, just how many people on the writing team are vegetarian ?

Anyway, guess we got the culprit for the whole meat thing. And the cannibalism thing. And the dysphoria thing. And the body horror in general that comes with Jared.

Wonderful.

The Hunt

And another one based on animals ! Trevor belongs to this one, definitely. And the "werewolf" wolf man thing. Pretty straightforward too, although it also does overlap with the more violent fears.

Makes me think of Daisy, somehow.

Personally, out of all of those, the ones that creep me out the most are The Eye, The Web, The Lonely, The Spiral and The Vast. Don't get me wrong, all of them could petrify me, but those five are definitely the ones that would affect me the most.

Back onto the actual story though, Elias is definitely planning for The Eye's ceremony, isn't he ? The Watcher's Crown. That's why he killed Gertrude, who wanted to stop everything, including this one, and put Jon in place, who doesn't know anything on how to stop it and would be unable to learn anything if Elias didn't tell him, at least not without enough time. This is.

God this is fucked up, but it makes sense. Oh no. Is Jon a sacrifice for the Eye apocalypse ?

Speaking of Jon, could he please leave the place quickly ? I don't trust them. Though he does seem to have gotten better at lying, i'd rather he get away from here the earliest possible. Pretty sure Trevor and Julia would enjoy hunting him for sport.

THRILL OF THE CHASE :

"As I reached for another knife, I found myself tapping my foot, as if to music."

Or when you organize a murderous man hunt with all of your best buds. Can't imagine that they ever got bored sunday evenings. The police was such a bummer, if people want to consensually hunt each other for sport, they should be able to !

So ! Daisy belongs to The Hunt, doesn't she ? That's confirmation. Ain't that nifty.

Definitely what I want the mentally unstable woman with a penchant for violence to have, supernatural powers coming from the concept of The Hunt itself.

Somehow, those that belong to that category stress me out. At least, Basira is here to ground her, you know ?

And something shady is happening with her dreams, because of course they do. Used to be both of their dreams, but Basira had hers "fixed" when she got to the Institute ?

Ah well.

BREATHING ROOM :

"It’s not like I sleep enough to worry about dreams."

Oh look. The same dream thing Daisy was talking about ! Ain't that nifty. Jon, sweetie, I am very concerned about your dreams too.

Dekker is back, and I can see why he got along so well with Gertrude. Brutally efficient, I guess ? Disturbingly so, at least up until the point where he got killed, I am assuming.

Again, I get why they worked somewhat together.

Let's forget about it, and about the magical tapes that I am starting not to trust, EXPLOSIVES !!

I know one bloodthirsty cop that is going to love those. I know they're for the ritual, but can we syc them on Elias too, pleeeaaase ? At least his office. Nobody will miss it !

I mean, maybe the rest of the Institute, but who cares about the extras. I just want to see stuff belonging to Elias set on fire. Just a tiny bit. It'll be so cathartic.

Huh. I think I am starting to understand the burning cultists.

CRACKED FONDATIONS :

"Everything is just… wrong. I can’t find my favourite coffee shop. And I don’t know who you people are."

... Did she travel between dimensions ?

Is that a thing now ? Is dimension traveling a thing ?

Under what concept would that even fit ? Since there were spiders and stuff, the Web then ? But how ? God, Hill Top Road just always gives me a headache.

What was Agnes even doing at this house when she was young, being all burn-y and shit ? I don't think that The Control got along that well with The Chaotic Destruction, that has no rhymes or reason outside of reveling into fucking shit up.

All that being said, they talked.

Oh my god, they finally talked.

Shit, I'm getting emotional here.

It was a prety horrendous talk, and Tim is still so angry and ready to blame Jon for everything, but there is something here, finally, and my heart hurt just thinking about Jon and Tim.

This entire fucking conversation was just a murder attempt on ME, actually, I was maimed, this is a second-degree murder attempt against me, actually, and I feel like I should be allowed monetary compensation for the pain this story puts me through.

I regret not getting to know Sasha more, I have to say. I didn't feel her death as acutely as I could've, how I will feel it when either Martin or Tim or both will die, and it's kind of a shame, considering just how much her death impacted the others.

Anyway, Gertrude's corpse is now skinless, I am assuming, and the only man that flew too close to the sun that we know died pretty recently would be Jurgen Leitner, so I am guessing that he is too.

Honnestly, just for that, I want Nikola to have a good time. She deserves some chaos after that stunt.

The quote of the post will be :

"Like colours, but if colours hated me."

End Liveblogging.

#tma #the magnus archive #liveblogging #liveblog-tma

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yourubersawcrit · 1 year

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2, 7, 9, 13, 17, 35, 44 - for the borderlands ask!

That's a lot of asks! Thank you <3

Which is your favorite game in the franchise?

This needs to be categorized into two important parts, gameplay-wise and story-wise.

Gameplay-wise: Borderlands The Pre-Sequel is my favorite, the introduction of the Oz kit, double jumping, slow movement is ideal for me.

I love how the double jump can be used for additional damage and how it can give you benefits too! The Skill trees most classes have in this entry are amazing and you have some diversity to play with.

Also Timothy's skills are so fun ( ꈍ▽ꈍ)

Story-wise: Borderlands 2 wins here. Well, what can I say? The returning of the B1 cast, the new Vault Hunters, Jack, the Vault of the Warrior and the entire main story was wonderful.

I also took the game very seriously, so my experience was incredibly enhanced by my shenanigans —and Jack's—.

Least favorite character?

I don't think I have one- WAIT. I actually do! It's Fran. Apologies —well, not really— towards Fran enjoyers but she makes me uncomfortable as someone who is not interested and is almost repulsed towards sex or anything related. Her entire character revolves around being horny and being fat. Which is not good character design.

A character you consider overrated?

Fucking. Handsome. Jack.

And here's why I rant how much people misunderstand his character.

Look, you can like a character, you can dislike a character, you can love them or even hate them; what you're NOT supposed to do is praise them.

It frickin' pains me that even with the context of the entire series people don't know much how propaganda works. And they should because, you know, there are actual companies in the franchise who need to sell their weaponry in the universe?

Well, Hyperion just takes a step further, instead of the usual propaganda about an item, is about an icon: Handsome Jack. And it's just hilarious how even in the real world some people believe in his words, in his façade. Specially with the information we can obtain about his real intentions —Opportunity, Old Haven, Handsome Jackpot, even some Echo logs— and ambitions. They idolize him.

That means his character works wonderfully! But most players won't notice the most than obvious truth towards him.

In resume. Jack's whole appeal works, and that's so ironic as dangerous.

Weapon of choice?

In general? SMGs and pistols, Dahl, Vladoff or Hyperion. One branch I really love are the Cheat Codes SMGs! I got a corrosive one time ago. Oh, it was a lot of fun!

A mission you found extremely hard?

Since Borderlands 2 was my first entry in the saga and genre, most of the missions were difficult, but never reached breaking point. With some exceptions of course.

The section of the first third of the game when one had to protect the beacon of being destroyed made me panic a bit.

First of all, I didn't knew the beacon could get an invincibility status until I watched a YouTube video —it didn't happened to me on game either so—. Also Jack's specific wording made me think a lot, the “I'm throwing everything I have!” yadda yadda thing? Well I took it seriously. Fortunately it was just the shock factor that made it harder and my newbie's incompetence.

Talon of God, well, that's another story. The fight against Jack and The Warrior was complicated for me. I also had to eat lunch, but I promised myself to finish the game before going to eat. At the end, my determination won against Jack's programmed ambition. Yay :D

Pandora or Elpis.

Elpis. Do I need to explain? FUCKING SPACE!! I LOVE SPACE!! AND HELIOS!!

A character you wish had died but didn't?

Easy answer, Fran. More complicated one, Octavio, just to make L0U13 survive in the general endings.

#asks for neo #neos thoughts #well well; I was finally able to talk about Jack's character.#also about other things; this is amazing to do!#thank you again for the ask! <3 #also take care :D

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anos-sensei · 2 years

Text

Imagine hc last pt.

Mammon snaps.

Parts: one two three four

Love and comments are appreciated!

(I didnt proofread this and im embarassed at how many typos i made 😭plz ignore the remaining ones and try to enjoy!)

After Solomon repaired the HoL and diavolo excused himself to go take care of Lucifer, the 4 younger brothers stayed in the living room, staring at Levi and mammon passed out on the ground.

"Aren't you guys going to help your brothers?" Solomon asks, eying the angels that were scraping off the gold and blood of the walls.

Even though he could do repairs he couldn't clean with magic, call it whatever you want he sucked at cleaning magic.

Beel suddenly woke up from his stupor at solomon's voice, quickly rushing to his brother's sides and delicately removing them out of each other's embrace, ignoring the burn on his own skin.

"Satan, go get some ice for levi's burns and ..." Asmo stills... "Im not sure what mammon needs... His temperature isn't going down.." Satan nods, rushing to the kitchen, "i think its best if we put mammon's body in cool water.. " solomon proposes while helping asmo up.

beel moves leviathan to the living room and mammon to the bathroom.

"I dont understand why they never talked about this..." Asmodeus whipsers, preparing mammon's bath, putting in calming essential oils.

"I think they didnt want to worry us." Belphegor answers distractedly, scratching at the gold that got on his hand when he touched mammon.

satan joins them shortly after, sitting down on the floor and assuring them of leviathan's state.

Silence engulfed the bathroom for a moment, the only sound being the cold water running.

Asmo sighs, his curiosity killing him.

"Apparently, lucifer levi and mammon, all three of them were cursed with this, how come none of us have it...?"

"Mammon made that decision." They suddenly hear from the doorway. Simeon was standing there, looking at mammon with saddened eyes.

"Right After the war, the three of them were summoned by father, and father threatened to punish all of them with sin's blood for hurting his precious underlings. Some of the injured angels that got either critically hit or killed were there too, along with me, michael raphael and gabriel." Simeon scratches his neck looking away, "mammon shot into a fit of rage, screaming at father and categorically refused that any of his brothers suffer from what he did, or any of his brothers, claiming that it was rightful for them to protect their own lives and family. Even if that meant getting dumped in hell." Simeon sighs and watches as beel gently places mammon in the bath, eyes teary. The water around mammon started sizzling for a moment before it went quiet again.

"What happened next?"

Simeon looks away again, an uncomfortable shiever running up his spine. "Erm, well... How do i say this.. Mammon got bold and told father to combine the curses of the youngest with his, giving him the totality of you guy's curses along with his. And i remember... mammon's jewels..." Simeon cringes at the memories and clears his throat, "Ahem anyway, his skin started glowing and father said that if he's so greedy even when it comes to curses, he might as well burn in greed. Levi and lucifer didn't say anything and took their own curses too and they all jumped down. and if im not wrong raphael and gabriel were sent down to soften the impact of their fall a few notches. Michael did get punished for that." Simeon tries explaining casually but the clench in his jaw and the grip on his arm didn't lie.

The sight of mammon's jewelery melting into his skin, while he kept a straight face, not a single twitch in his posture or face showing he was in pain, daring his father to harm his other siblings was something simeon would never forget. even he, was fooled enough to think it genuinly didnt hurt, it was only later when gabriel came back, his arms covered in burns that he understood that mammon was, in fact in pain.

Pursing his lips simeon walks over to beel who was now a crying mess, sitting besides the bathtub, chin resting on top of mammon's head.

"I never knew mammon did that for us.. " asmo sniffles and leans into belphegor who was in a daze sitting on the closed toilet lid. Images of their fall replaying on and on, things he adesperately tried to forget drowning them behind all sorts of things, wheter it be violence or sleep..

To belphegor the worst moment of his own fall was without a doubt watching leviathan suffer alone, the pain his twin, beel was in and his own pain were completely drowned out by leviathan himself, making sure neither himself nor beel nor asmo had to go through the full extent of it.

He had felt guilty about it for years, centuries even. Nightmares of levi not making it, or mammon not comming back, or even lucifer abandonning them.

Unconsciously tears had started streaming down his face, his arms wrapping around asmo who was already caressing belphie's hair.

"Im so sorry... " he whispers and no one asks for what, they dont need to, they are all shaken to the core..

" i do understand why mammon did what he did, he's a lot older than all of you and wouldn't bear to see you guys getting hurt, no matter the reason." Simeon says quietly.

"He didnt have to bear this on his own... We would have... We would have beared with our own curses.. Or... " beel's word die in his throat when he looks back at mammon's body... He didn't see it at first but his white markings were glowing a soft yellowish, it was.... As if the gold in his body gathered in those markings..

"I think only levi's spell can really help mammon.." simeon whispers, "i'll go get some ice."He says

The water around his body had started to warm up steadily, streams of steam were starting to appear around the bathroom.

Solomon was at levi's side, tending the demon's burns quietly. Leviathan's demon form was always a sight to behold from afar, but getting to see it up close like this was a true blessing. Solomon didn't see the fall with his own eyes but he did hear some stories about it.

The grand admiral of hells navy, the most ruthless and cruel having ever existed, sailing the seas and skies, taking down enemy after enemy. Winning war after war with impeccable strategies and a complete absence of fear or hesitance. That same admiral was now lying in front of solomon, unconscious, an adorable pout on pink delicate looking lips, thin trails of gold were drying on his clothes and arms from taking mammon in his embrace. He looked more like a doll than a demon actually, if it wasnt for the horns glowing a faint orange and his tail ocasionally twitching solomon would have believed levi, currently lying in front of him was indeed a delicate looking doll... And not a several millenia old powerful demon.

The seven rulers lf hell will always be full of surprises.

Solomon sighs to himself, softly murmuring some healing spells, watching the wounds close on levi's body.

After a thick half hour sitting in silence with the occasional noise of running water levi stirred, his eyes blinking open softly, light orange eyes met grey ones. After a second or so, a heavy blush raised to leviathan's cheeks, quickly scrambling off the couch excusing himself in embarrassment.

"I fainted because I...i- IM NOT used to pain LIKE THIS okay!" He screeches and stumbles away quickly, instinctively going to the batroom where he found everyone huddled togheter.

"What are you guys doing?" He asks confused seing beel pouting with redrimmed eyes. both asmo and belphie were asleep in beel's lap who himself was sitting next to the bathtub holding onto mammon. Luke was seated on the sink, the sink itself filled with golden particles. and simeon on the other side of the bathtub, keeping the water temperature in check.

At the sound of his voice the angels and beel look up, beel tearing up once more.

"Whats wrong beel?" Levi says softly getting closer, stoping when beel shakes his head eyes averting with... Guilt?

"What's wrong?" He asks again sighing when he doesnt get an answer, a hunch of what happened forming in his head.

"Ill be taking mammon to my room." Leviathan ends up saying, not bearing with the awkward silence.

He bends down to pick up mammon, not fased by the hot water and burning body. He walks out of the bathroom, his steps revebrating in the quiet room.

"Why do you act like all of this is nothing?" He suddenly hears luke say.

He turns his head to look at the little angel who looks angry, face red, fists balled at his sides looking up with his big eyes.

"I used to think that mammon was crazy, he's always so irritating and i used to think of you and lucifer as the most normal ones, but...but lucifer... You...you and lucifer, YOU'RE FAR WORSE!" Levi stops in his tracks.

"Why do you always act so detached? like it doesnt even concern you!? LIKE YOU'RE JUST SOME OUTSIDER WATCHING A SHOW."

"Luke.. Shut up! " Simeon tries,

"No! You're just like lucifer if not worse. You act like a plain outsider. Even when lucifer kicked you earlier he was showing more feelings than you ever showed throughout this entire day. Both you and lucifer are the same! You act like .... Like this isnt bothering you, like this is nothing that concerns you like this is a normal occurence and that you are above all of this! and not like one of your brothers close to dying. Why... Why dont you show what you feel sometimes why dont you speak up for your own, cry, shout, get angry at real things not at your petty querrels."

Levi's eyes lost their shine for a second as if remembering something... His eyes went dark looking back at luke.

"Luke, sometimes its better to not give into your emotions, wheter you want it or not you can't think if you're under the influence of your emotions, you'd end up doing stupid things you will regret for the rest of your life. I've made enough errors and dealt with enough shit to know that in a situation where "someone's life is on the line" you should, in no case, no matter whats happening around you, inside of you or with you, give into the temptation to release whats bottling up." Levi states coldly, his voice rasor sharp.

"Lucifer, me and mammon had to learn the hard way that giving in to emotions was a bad idea. Already up there, mammon often got punished for being too curious and daring. And it didn't help later.

Its because mammon expressed his emotions that he got into this situation in the first place, its because lilith felt emotions and gave in to them that the war begun, its becsuse of emotions that lucifer mammon and i accepted to go into a war with the entire celestial realm.

its because emotions are a dense cloud blinding us in a tunnel view that people tend to die in dangerous situations. Not realising how many other ways there are." The heaviness of levi's words weigh on luke, satan biting his lip and beel Looking away.

"Dont ask questions like these if you haven't thought about an answer yourself, luke. Mammon is my brother and both me and lucifer feel concern worry and every other emotion of the emotional spectrum. But that doesnt mean we can just let them take over."

"You are still a child and have a long, very long life ahead of you, so this is my piece of advice for you, don't feel unless its safe to, go ahead laugh, cry, be angry, be upset, but dont you dare let it blind you."

With that levi walks out, by now the purple haired male had understood that simeon had opened his mouth, spouting things he shouldn't have.

Sighing deeply he places mammon on a fluffy carpet in his room, grabbing a few things around to dry off his brothers body before sitting at his head, delicately placing his hands over mammon's eyes beford whispering the spell again and again, the air around them quickly chilling once mammon's magic starts reacting to it, making them slighltly levitate ro accelerate the air ciculation.

"Why did you say that?" Beel asks rudely. The rumble of beel's voice waking the two sleeping males in his lap.

"Even if you were upset, this wasnt the moment to provoke levi, especially when simeon told you to shut it, you should have." Beel finishes with a huff apologizing to the stirring belphie.

Luke was on the verge of tears, guilt bubbling up like it had never before and he didn't know what to do...

In the meantime Satan had slipped out of the bathroom, anger boiling inside of him but he just couldn't... Not with what levi just said... He had never thought about it either, none of them have... All of this... What levi just said was.. GODDAMNIT why didn't he know of any of this.

HE WAS BORN. from Lucifer, technically lucifer's blood should be coursing trough him. Yet... Yet... He had be consumed by his sin time and time again..

How come he had never been affected, how come he had never felt this crushing pain, feeling his own sin course through him? Was it because he was pure wrath with nothing more? Was it because he wasn't worthy of it?

Fisting his hair and kicking the table satan growls in frustration...

And how come he couldn't prevent it?? He had felt mammon's anger, he had seen that it wasnt okay to keep the situation going yet he had just smiled hoping lucifer would get pissed.

But instead of getting pissed, lucifer got injured, mammon got injured and his other brothers had cried, even the angels solomon and lord dia got involved.. What if he had lost lucifer today or mammon? What if lucifer kicked him out the moment of their fall because he was acting like such an asshole? What if... Mammon had died..

If only he had stopped this fight.

"Its frustrating isnt it?" He whips his head around, seeing lucifer come down with davolo's help, slightly leaning against the lord.

"What is?" Satan asks without thinking.

"Blaming yourself for something you supposedly could have prevented by stepping in." Satan furrows his brows.

"No need to beat yourself up, that wont help, instead take over mammon's cooking shift tonight, levi will be busy with him for a few more hours. " a rare smile made its way on lucifer's tired face, some golden glitters still present on his hands and face.

"You dont haven't done anything wrong satan, quite sulking about something that you haven't caused, whats done is done lets move forward okay?" Unknowingly, he had approached lucifer and fisted the eldest's clothes, shoving his face into the eldests chest, sobs breaking through him.

"Im sorry for always trying killing you, for pulling stupid pranks on you, im sorry for -" his sentense is broken by a sob, gentle gloveless hands carding through his hair, calming him down. The sudden warmth engulfing him was too much, it was so unusual, so surreal it was such a.... New...feeling.

"Everything is allright okay, you'd need a lot more to kill me, your pranks wont do. Mammon is a lot stronger and more stubborn than he looks too, he just doesn't deal with this well, im sorry you got so scared, satan."

"H-how.."

"How i knew what you were feeling? There was a time where i felt the same, guilty and in constant fear, blaming myself for what my family was going through, but it was only much later that i understood that it is not, it's no ones." He explains quietly. "And also..you might or not have a nervous tic when you're scared." He adds.

A camera shutter is heard followed by a click and shortly after a soft discussion settles, between everyone. Though beel still refusing to speek and belphie quietly sitting next to lucifer.

Solomon had taken his leave along with diavolo who had barbatos waiting for him, and a promise of dinner being delivered at home for them.

Luke ended up crying when he saw lucifer, apologising over and over. simeon shut him down with a sleeping spell and apologized again to lucifer.

"Please keep us updated on mammon's state later on, we will be taking our leaves now too, sorry that we couldnt be of great help." Simeon said, his soft gentle reassuring voice bringing some relief to the brother's anxious hearts.

It wasnt long before all of them were seated in a comfortable silence, the two members of the anti lucifer league glued to lucifer's side, even helping the demon move around and get stuff.

When later on a truck of food arrived and everything was moved on the humongus table inside, beel was shockingly the one who didn't eat that much placing all kinds of food on a trail and standing up.

"Levi needs to get some energy.. Doing magic for so long must surely tire him out.." he simply mumbles and stands up walking to levi's room and gently knocking on the door.

A chill runs up his spine when his hand touches the freezing metal doorknob, twsting it slightly to open it, he cringes at the crackling noises it makes.

He gently opens the door, almost dropping the plate in his hands at the sught in front of him.

He exhales deeply trying to regain his calm, hoping he didn't disturb levi in his work... The room was dark but he could see thanks to the fish tank's light. Condensation was dancing around, the particles of moisture freezing around them.

But that wasnt what had put beel off.

levi was there, sitting in mid air with mammon in front of him, uncounscious and peaceful. Levi was in his admiral demon form his most dangerous and fullest demon form.

long claws and scaled hands resting at the side of mammon's head. his normally rather thin and long tail, was thick and heavily spread around the room, its fins, looking soft but beel knew better than anyone that they were rasor sharp, a simple touch would be enough to kill an adult demon, be it by the cut or by the poison, no one has lived long enough to say.

levi's scales were reflecting the orange glowing in leviathan's eyes. Two shining orbs instead if levi's usual eyes. His horns were probably what had surprised beel the most, long alters, thick and spread out to the back of his head they were.... So magestic..

Fangs were poking on his underlip and you could see the beginning of an exoskeleton going up and around his torso.

Not daring to make a lot of noise he enters the room on his tippy toes, avoiding the tail and especially the fins.

"Levi... You should eat, i will leave some food here for you and... Mammon... " he says quietly, eyes casting downwards at the end of his phrase, he felt like crying again.. he was feeling like a little kid after an argument with his parents, ready to get scolded. He fists the hem of his shirt, bottom lip trembling.

He didn't realise he had stayed there, it was only when he felt the delicate feeling of a snake like tail wrapping around him that he realised he had stayed longer than intended.

"Im... Im sorry i didnt mean to disturb i wa-"

"Shh," levi shushes him and his legs detangle from up there, his eyes shut for a few seconds before he opens them again, his usual eyes back to look at beelzebub with a gentle smile.

He lowers to the ground and once he's standing underneath mammon mammon's body comes down too, letting levi catch it safely.

"Its okay im done, Mammon will wake up in a few minutes im sure he'll be really hungry." Levi says and places mammon in his bedtub. "Either way, i for sure am! " he walks over to the tray of food, eyes bulging when he saw barbatos's and hell's kitchen's food.

He immediately took one of the containers, food already slightly cold.

"Eat with me." He orders and shoves another container into beel's arms. A smile blooms on the demon's lips and he happily takes it, relief washing over him when he hears mammon's steady breathing and occasional shuffles.

"Im not mad. I could never be." Levi starts after a little moment between two bites.

"Its just, me lucifer and mammon made the promise to never talk about what happened back then, luke's comments were just placed at the wrong moment.. "

"But mammon got hurt like this be-"

"Because i wanted to." They hear and both their heads shoot in direction of mammon. His soft blue eyes were back but he looked absolutely exhausted. Dark eyebags were clear under his eyes and and his usual peppy voice drained of all energy.

"Is that hell's kitchen? Im starving." Mammon grumbles and attempts to stand up ony to be pulled back down by levi's tail.

"No move." leviathan threatens and walks over, placing a tray with food in front of him, mammon digging in instantly.

"What i did back there, taking yer share of the curse (im dying to insert mammon munching noises in " nomnom" form but i wont because i... Idk actually) was my decision and i would 100% do it again. So no sulking around beel yer gonna worry belphie and me,... And levi... And asmo... And satan... And lucifer. " Mammon grumbles while eating.

"I couldn't agree more, if all three of us had not agreed the curse would have been casted on all of us and not just me you and levi." Lucifer says walking into the room.

"Welcome back mammon." Lucifer says, delicately ruffling Mammon's hair. Believe it or not, but mammon choking on his food was definitely what they all needed for the remaining ice to break and laughter to erupt

Mammon's room was restored and besides the fact that the said demon was stuck between constant hugs, cuddles and family activities mammon couldn't complain, he couldn't be be happier.

This story like many of others would forever be crafted out in their hearts.

The end.

Okay besides the fact rhat i rushed rhe end A liitttititle bit im quite satisfied.

Comments, asks/requests, opinions and love is highly appreciated

Rbs are too!

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me Beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me hc

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yinses · 3 years

Text

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !!

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind. really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature.

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna blessings #sukuna ryomen

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barelyalivebutnotdead · 3 years

Conversation

Chaos

[The bat-brothers: Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian sitting at the dining table in the Wayne Manor. They all sit in chairs lines up, facing the Fanon version of themselves: 'Perceptions']

Tim: (reluctantly) So, these guys are our 'perceptions'?

Dick: (nodding, slightly uncomfortable) Yeah, Zatanna said she will drop by once she has figured out to fix this without collapsing the multiverse in on itself.

Tim: (gulps and points at Fanon!Tim sitting directly opposite to him) Why do I- I mean, why does he look like that?

[Cut to Fanon!Tim with sunken cheekbones, pale skin, skinny frame and dark, chapped lips. He looks undernourished and his eyes are laden with dark circles from sleep deprivation. He looks like a zombie.]

: readmore:

Tim: (whispering to his brothers to not offend the Fanon versions) He looks like a zombie...

Dick: (speechless)

Damian: (Smirks) That's the vibe you emit, Drake. Face the truth.

Jason: (also speechless, raised eyebrows, regrets life and death decisions that led up to this moment.)

Dick: (has the most optimistic 'wtf' look on his face looking at Fanon!Dick)

[Cut to Fanon!Dick sitting on the chair with a huge, 440-watt smile. He looks like the himbo version of a dog wagging his tail.]

Dick: (in both wonder and bemusement) I swear I can see rainbows and sunshine in his eyes...

[Dick internally wonders where Fanon!Dick got the childlike innocence from, considering his sanity has been crumbling for a long, long time now]

[THUMP!]

[Cut to Fanon!Tim faceplanting on the table. Jason looks like he regrets coming back to life. Tim is unsure what to do. Damian's eye is twitching from being around the Fanon imbeciles. Dick is this close to giving up on everything.]

Fanon!Jason: Oh no, baby bird! (Worriedly goes to Fanon!Tim and lifts his head)

[Fanon!Damian sits with hands folded and a scowl, in Fanon!Dick's lap, who hold him very dearly]

Jason: What the fuck?

Tim: What the fuck?

[Fanon!Jason lifts Fanon!Tim's head to reveal a... Less than pleasant face]

Fanon!Tim: (in a very scratchy, weak voice) Coff- coughs -fee! (and then THUMPS on the table head-first, again.)

[Fanon!Jason catches ahold of Fanon!Dick by the collar and gets into his face]

Fanon!Jason: You weren't a good brother to me and now you can't even take care of my Timmy?!

[He huffs and leaps for the kitchen to make coffee.]

[Dick facepalms, he cannot see this. Jason flinches in fear of Alfred's swear jar each time he hears Fanon!Jason swear from the kitchen. Tim buried his face into his hands and slumps against the table, he wishes to disappear and never face reality again. Damian is already reaching for his sword.]

Fanon!Damian: (scoffs) Let the imbecile die. A pathetic soul like his deserves a pathetic death like this.

Damian: (he stands on the table wielding the sword to Fanon!Damian's throat, eyes raging green) What the hell did you just say?!

Fanon!Dick and Canon!Dick: Shut up, Damian! (Who said that to which Damian, I'll let you decide)

[Dick and Tim pull Damian back from killing the Fanon!Damian, fearing that killing them would cause something to go wrong in the multiverse]

[Fanon!Jason returns from the kitchen with a tray in which he decorated a large mug of coffee, a flower vase and a bowl of hot soup.]

Dick: (In astonishment and disbelief) Jason?

[Fanon!Jason doesn't answer him. He goes and sits by Fanon!Tim and sets down the mug of coffee. Then, with cooing words, feeds Fanon!Tim the soup, gently.]

Jason: Where's my crowbar.

Dick: (Lets out he most tired sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, others are unsure whether he is frustrated over Jason's crowbar or the Fanons.)

Tim: (Turns to Damian with an earnest, pained expression) Damian, kill me before this is embedded into my memory forever.

Damian: (takes a breath and turns to Tim, his voice polite, soft and genuine. Vicarious pain and embarassment flashing in his eyes) I hate this too, Drake. Believe me, I really do. But since this hurts you more than it hurts me, (In the same soft, genuine, polite voice but evilly dramatic tone) suffer.

[Dick looks at Fanon!Dick, somehow glowing with childlike happiness.]

Dick: I wonder how he is so happy?

Alfred: Sirs? It is time for Dinner.

[The boys all get up and help in setting the table. Chaos ensues]

Jason: I'll get the plates. Tim? Get the caserols.

[A very 'undead' Tim walks in, dragging his feet and hunching over with slumped shoulders.]

Fanon!Tim: (Groans) Coffeee!

[Despite having met death, Jason backs away from Fanon!Tim for the fear of God knows what. He watches in a moment of sheer patience Jason didn't know he had as Fanon!Tim streches for the coffee jar on the top shelf, knocks it off as he collapses and proceeds to shove the raw coffee grounds into his mouth. Jason slowly backs away from him.]

Jason: (to Tim, visibly shaken up) I'm not going near that Tim, you shouldn't either.

Tim: (Putting down the caseroles a little lazily) Is that what my 'perception' is? A zombie looking Edward Cullen who survives on coffee and (shudders, refering to when Fanon!Jason fed Fanon!Tim soup.) That.

Jason: I'm going to get Zatanna to erase my memory of this event.

Tim: Yeah, call me too.

[Fanon!Damian sits atop of Fanon!Dick's shoulders, carrying a bunch of spoons while Fanon!Dick walks with glasses in his hands, laughing with Damian while he growls in return]

Dick: (thinks, Should I try to be as happy as him? Then looks down to see Damian watching in stoic horror as Fanon!Damian begins acting like a baby.)

Dick: (Opens his mouth to express his thoughts)

Damian: (Looks up at Dick and squints into a mini-bat-glare before Dick has the chance to say something) Grayson, I know what you are thinking. If you ever try to manhandle me like a baby, you will lose an organ.

Fanon!Tim: (Walks by shoving a handful of coffee grounds into his mouth) I hope it's a spleen. We'll have something in common to talk about then.

[Both Damian and Dick are thorougly spooked.]

Fanon!Jason: (Quivering out of anger at Fanon!Tim's broken, sad, lonely tone) Your fault, Dick!

[Dick gulps wondering if the Fanon!UniverseJason ever got out of the pit madness.]

Jason: (In a tone more broken, hopeless and sad tone than Fanon!Tim's) Why...

[Everyone sits for dinner. Alfred serves]

[Fanon!Dick suddenly gets up, walks up to Fanon!Damian and hugs him. Fanon!Damian responds with a bite. The he goes and hugs Fanon!Jason, he responds by shoving Fanon!Dick away, grumbling about how cruel he was to Tim. Finally, he goes to Fanon!Tim and gives him a hug. He is too busy chugging more coffee to respond.)

[Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are exasperated, to put it simply.]

[Dick slumps onto the table. Jason finally pulls out his crowbar. Tim crumbles upon himself. Damian closes his eyes in an attemp to not lose whatever is left of his sanity.]

Dick, Jason and Damin: (in unison) I wish I had stayed dead than waching this.

Tim: (feels more nightmares of Jason coming to his nights.)

Author's note: Okay, I admit, this may not be as funny as I meant it to be but... I can suck, you know? Besides, this may be terrible but in a universe with the CW's PowerPuff Girls script, it cannot objectively be the worst. And yes, I categorize this as a shitpost.

Sorry for creating this, but I had fun.

174 notes · View notes

popcorn1989 · 2 years

Text

𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔

Pairing: Rience x OC (Own Character), Lydia

Warning: Acid burns, Blood, Kisses, Erotic, Long Story

Words: 2778

Notes: Rience had stayed with Sanya overnight. He didn't want to leave her alone, now that he knows there could be so many people after her. Rience didn't know any of the names, on the list, but from what he knew from Sanya, they were dangerous people.

I've categorized the stories into parts, so you don't have to read it all at once, you can memorize the part you left off and read on when you have time again.

Sorry, my thoughts went wild.

Chapters:

Prehistory - Klick here

You don't know how I feel - Klick here

Let me show you - Klick here

Don't tell me that - Klick here

I fight by your side - Klick here

Whatever you say

Kill me, if you want it - Comming Soon.....

ᑭᗩᖇT 1 ~

Rience lay close to her, as did Sanya because the bed was very small. He had only been able to sleep restlessly, because although Sanya had told him it would be safe here, he didn't find it. Sanya lay facing him, she had one hand on his face and he felt like she was studying him. "Stop that," he said and looked up at the ceiling, "What exactly?" "I don't want you to look at me like that" she chuckled "donkey you're beautiful, and those scars don't change that, they make you look even more mystical" "let it" "No, I really mean it" she moved and sat on him. "I believe you not, you don't believe me, when I tell you, that you're beautiful," she shrugged before kissing him. He felt her begin to move her pelvis. "Donkey? Tell me again what you like about me," she said, he sat up and kissed her small, but beautiful breast. "Everything," he said, kissing her shoulders, while getting more and more aroused. "And me, I like everything about you, too," she whispered, and enveloped him in her arms.

Rience's heart began to pound wildly, feeling its chaos surrounding him and making him feel dizzy. He noticed how she leaned forward. "No... no, don't do that" he said when he saw the small dagger in her hand. "Yesterday I wasn't allowed either" "No..." "Donkey, let me" "No" she laughed and cut his shoulder, he gasped as the burning pain shot through his arm. "Okay, thanks for that," he felt the blood trickle down his arm, but she licked up the trickle and sucked on his wound. Rience moaned lightly "I love a vampire" she laughed again "I'm not a vampire, you just have no idea what's coming your way" She looked into his face and he saw her eyes turn completely red, she said something What he didn't understand, he just noticed how she put him in, and he felt like he was about to explode. She moved quickly, he felt every movement intensely. He moaned with pleasure and desire so great it was like he could set the world on fire, no matter what she did it was magical and far better than anything he had ever known.

Whenever she had a climax, he noticed it as well and when he reached his after a few minutes, he had the feeling that he could hardly breathe, the feeling was much longer than usual. The red in her eyes disappeared, and she grinned evilly, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this." He breathed heavily, looked at her, and then flopped back on the pillows. "I hate you," he said shortly, but laughed, this woman was driving him crazy. "Well then let's get to work" she stood up while she got dressed he sat up. "I'd like to show you something beforehand," he said, grabbing his pants and putting them on and going to his jacket which was hanging over a chair, he pulled the bulbous bottle out of his pocket and held it out to her, "Have you got one Any idea what that could be?" she took the bottle from his hand and looked at the black content. "Looks like poison, did you get it from Kaer Morhen?" he nodded, she too, "Did you find the witcher? What was his name?" "Geralt," he said, leaning against the table. She watched him and grinned as she came to him, wiping the blood off his skin and healing his wound. "Sorry donkey," she said, gesturing to his good shoulder, as she opened the bottle and briefly sniffed the contents. Then she closed the bottle again "Better keep your hands off it and only give it to your worst enemies" "What is it" "Blood, but not normal... Elder blood, elven, dangerous" he just nodded and knew what he was had to do with it.

Rience took the bottle and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. He picked up the list from the table "let's talk about it" she just looked at him and shook her head, she grabbed his belt and pulled him to the bed. She pushed him so that he fell onto the bed, he banged his head on the wall, she started laughing as she sat down on him again. "And thanks for that..." he said, rubbing his head. "Let's talk about Kaer Morhen first, I want to know everything, were the witchers there?" "Yes" "Was it exactly where I expected it to be?" "Yes... Eh, no..." he said and laughed when he saw her eyes. "Not exactly, but very close," he nodded briefly when she nodded. "Hm" he saw her thinking about what else to ask. "I found an old witcher and a woman there, in a kind of laboratory. They talked about the witcher Geralt, but I have no clue where he might be." "Geralt..... Geralt...." mused she. "I've heard a lot about him, I'll ask around," she said, waving over him. "Oh no no no" he said and sat down, he held her hips tight, she smiled at him again. "What? Donkey, don't say you can't take it anymore" He raised an eyebrow. "Now will you tell me who these people are" he glanced at the list that was now lying on the floor, which he had dropped when she had dragged him with her. "This will take longer," she said, kissing him.

Some time passed, the two had laid down next to each other again, and she had really told him every name, many of them were magicians, some bandits, other druids, she had really messed with so many people, he felt like a puppy next to her. His head hurt as she got up and walked over to the table. He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. "Anything else I should know?" She turned to him, "Um... yes..." she said. Rience turned to her, "What exactly?" "Blood I take...it's hard to explain" "Just say it", "When I use blood magic I refrain from taking my own, I have around 35 types of blood in me where, I get people suck it out, not with my mouth.... donkey" she said, seeing his face "I put my hand on the wound, and it flows inside me, I don't know" "What happens if you use your own?" "Then I can die, depending on the size of the spell" he nodded, he understood. "It won't come to that," he said before continuing, "I'll go see Lydia, have a chat with her, find out what my next steps are, I'll be back here tonight" he didn't open a portal in here, it would be too dangerous for Sanya to use "Donkey?" asked her, he turned to her and saw her holding his narrow sword in the air "Wouldn't you rather take that with you?"

ᑭᗩᖇT 2 ~

Rience only teleported once he was outside Vengerberg. Lydia was so startled that she dropped her book. "You..." she suppressed a swear word, and Rience just had to grin, at the sight of her. "Stop teleporting yourself here, without warning," she said, picking up her book from the floor and getting up from the chair. Rience saw his chance and made himself comfortable, as usual. when he was with her. She went to her "laboratory" put the book on the table and looked at him. "And why are you here?" "I need a new lead." He played with his ring and looked at the empty rod, the raven wasn't there. "I haven't got one yet either, maybe when the raven comes back," she said, as she followed his gaze.

It took a long time for the bird, to fly through the open window and sit on the perch. Lydia had babbled on, about something all the time, he hadn't really said anything about it, and for a while, he hadn't even really listened to her. When he asked, when Master would finally show up, She bitched and said it was his fault. She always had her eyes on the bottle, which he was turning back and forth in his hand. "Okay, you can have it," he said, holding the bottle up, she was amazed, perhaps she doesn't really believe him, but she came towards him, grabbed the bottle, like he was pulling his hand away and now examined it in her hands. He looked back at the bird, he had a note on his foot, she saying "Blood magic is easy" she walked over to the table and opened the bottle. He looked back at her, just as she spilled the contents onto her hand, spreading them between both hands and holding it in front of her face. Then everything happened very quickly.

She cried out, he saw white smoke eating through her skin, - Give that only to your worst enemies - he was shocked, but laughed to himself, as he remembered Sanya's words. Lydia screamed in pain and fell to the ground, throwing herself from side to side. He watched, as her lips parted to reveal her teeth, her throat opened to reveal her larynx, he felt sick but couldn't look away. He got up, wanting to get a closer look, when he heard Lydia's voice in his head "Take the note and go" it was so unfamiliar with having another voice in his head, that he jumped for a moment. Rience looked at the bird, back at Lydia, but somehow he didn't want to help her, so he decided to grab the note, the bird pecked, at his finger, and it took a while, before he had the note. As he struggled with the bird, he smelled the sweet smell of melted skin and felt sick again.

Rience unrolled the message, on it was written in fine but masculine handwriting - Melitele Temple - He looked back at Lydia, she was standing before him, he shuddered at the sight of her. Well, now they had something in common, except that he had fared better than she did. "What does it say," she said out loud now, but didn't move her lips, it gave him goosebumps. He gave her the note, she nodded and said, "You'll have to think of something, getting in there isn't easy. Get the Michelet brothers, they'll hold Geralt in check, so you can grab the girl”. He nodded briefly, but stopped dead in his tracks, "Lydia....." She just looked at him "I just wanted to say" he tilted his head and laughed "Now your inside is turned out" Before she could attack him, was he through a teleport disappeared.

ᑭᗩᖇT 3 ~

Rience was full of adrenaline, he teleported straight into Sanya's room, he approached her before she could greet him with her donkey and kissed her wildly. She let him, helping him remove his clothes, as he walked her to the bed. "Are you doing it again," he whispered in her ear and she started laughing, "Did you taste blood?" she asked, running her fingernails down his back. "Cheeky," he said, kissing her neck, rubbing his Hand over her breasts and belly. She grabbed the dagger and Rience started shaking, he couldn't wait. He closed his eyes, as she kissed him, and he felt the cut on his back, god I think, I am addicted to her, was his thought. And again, that feeling of explosion shot through him and his adrenaline was a deadly mixture. He couldn't stand it long and came immediately, but his lust didn't decrease, he looked into her bloodshot eyes and knew that she had her fingers in the pie, he enjoyed it, and she obviously did too.

When the scuffle ended, he lay on his belly and let her heal him "It was stupid you teleported here" Rience nodded, he knew it "It was probably already being followed, now I have to find another hiding place" she put her hand on his wound and he felt the warmth radiating from her. "You don't have to, my portals are actually very difficult to find" he sat up, stroked her hair, behind her ear and smiled "I'm not stupid" She got up, threw his clothes, at him and put on hers "Let's go" she said and when they were both dressed, she reached up and opened a portal, he raised an eyebrow, "Don't be stupid donkey. I know how to keep my portals hidden, too." Rience gave a short laugh, but that wasn't why he was looking like that. Her portal was gray, and it seemed like something was glittering in the mist, he was so mesmerized that he just stood there and looked at it.

He saw her look from Portal, to him and back again. "Rience, you are all right?" he was shocked the first time she said his name, he nodded and stepped through the portal, so he wouldn't have to tell her, he loved her, because he couldn't think of anything else but that. On the other side, started he immediately started shaking and looked around, there was snow everywhere, and they were in a forest and WHERE THE HELL were they? As she walked through the portal, wearing a cloak, she smiled as she caught his gaze. "Glad you kept warm" he said, and she started laughing, "thought you might need some cooling off" "Tell me, what we want here?" "As soon as we get there" he got as an answer, then she was already walking along a small path, and he had no choice, but to follow her.

They came to a small hut, that was well hidden. Beside the hut, was a small creek, frozen over and glistening in the sun. "I'm looking for an amulet, maybe I can find it here" "And what do you want, with the amulet?" he asked, as his gaze turned back to the little hut. "It might help me focus my power in one spot, if I use it, I can quickly become oblivious to my surroundings." Rience swallowed, she saying it casually, as if it were nothing more than, a pimple to have on the face. She entered the hut and Rience braced for a fight, but the hut was empty. She groaned and stamped her foot once. "That asshole lied to me, I should have known better..." She took a deep breath before starting to search the hut, but Rience didn't trust the whole thing. He stepped outside and looked around, if someone wanted her to come here, it could also be a trap.

ᑭᗩᖇT 4 ~

It took a long time, he heard Sanya swearing and swearing in the hut, he smiled a little about it. He walked around the area, looking into the woods, here and there, but he hadn't noticed anything, nothing that was conspicuous and made him think it was an ambush. Rience had just reached the entrance to the hut, when he heard a rumble, he ran inside and had to laugh, dust swirled through the air, Sanya on the ground covered in splinters of wood. He walked up to her and helped her up, "Maybe...." "No, don't say a word," she scolded and brushed off her clothes. "Donkey....let's go" she said and stomped out, when she saw his smile on his face. "I could have broken everything" "Sure" she turned to him, but then she had to laugh too, she bent down and folded a snowball. Rience stopped laughing and raised a hand in warning.

"What? Do you want to melt all the snow, if I do that?" she asked and laughed, he still had his hand in front of him and looked around. "No, but maybe, I'll burn your clothes off," he said, grinning again. "Oh, I see you haven't cooled down, here," she said, and threw the snowball, missing, as Rience crouched down and made himself a snowball. He threw and hit her in the butt, he would win this battle, he knew it. Rience hit her often, but she'd also landed a few hits, for that moment he forgot who he was, what he had to do. And he was and will be eternally grateful to her, for that. Rience ran to her and hit a snowball on her chest, but he was faster and she couldn't pick up another snowball. He wrapped his arms, around her and turned her to kiss her. "I think we should warm up, maybe...skin to skin?" she asked, "Whatever you say." Rience released her and moved to stand next to her, when he heard a hiss and saw several portals open, and ten mages emerged from them and positioned themselves menacingly in front of them.

to be continued....

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simpingovernonexistentmen · 4 years

Text

Family Meeting Pt 1

Plot: Katsuki feels it’s time to meet families. Little does he know his omega isn’t so keen on the idea.

Genre: A/B/O, Omegaverse, Fluff, BNHA, Alpha Bakugo, Fem Omega Reader

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and, you were happily surrounded by your Alpha's scent. Sitting on the couch with Katsuki watching a documentary on almight's pasts battles. You've been dating Katsuki for half a year now. Finding yourself falling for him more and, more everyday. Everything was perfect. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head against his chest letting out a sigh of contentment. Katsuki chest rumbled in response to his omega's happiness, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you as close to him as possible, leaving a small gentle kiss on the top of your head. Yes everything was perfect.

"I think it's time we've met parents." He said breaking the silence.

You felt yourself freeze. Yes everything was perfect until right at this moment. Can we rewind back to 10 seconds ago and, just live in that time space for all eternity that would be great. You tilted your head up to gaze at his ruby eyes.

"Parents?" You squeaked out.

He frowned at your timid reply. Was it even a question? You've both have been with each other long enough to be considered serious. His mother had been nagging at him to bring you over to introduce you as his new partner to the family. He felt he had given it enough time to do this so, why did his omega seem so reluctant.

"What's wrong?" He asked giving you a long stare. You felt as if he was trying to piece a puzzle together with your soul.

"You don't think it's too soon?" You smiled up nervously, you already knew your scent starting to change into a slight bitter scent and, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

His stare hardened looking at you suspiciously. "No I don't, i think we've been together long enough to meet each other's families."

You sighed placing you face into the crook of his neck, refusing to stare at his soul searching eyes any longer. "Can we delay meeting my family for a bit?" You stated with a small voice. You felt him stiffen from under you.

"Y/N does your family not know about us?"

Fuck the one question you wanted to avoid entirely. The air around you started to contort into bitter burnt smell, nothing like his comforting firewood scent. This isn't how you wanted this conversation to play out. You didn't have a bad relationship with your family, no that was far from truth in fact it was the opposite. They loved you too much. Over protective was an understatement, every time you got into a relationship your family would find some way to drive them off. The same response would be given every time if they were really meant for you this wouldn't drive them away. No shame at all! You family consisted of two brothers and, of course both of your parents. Your mother is an omega like you while, all the males in your family were alphas.

Usually omegas were categorized in two slots a nuisance or, a blessing. The way society's view things is ridiculous but, that didn't mean you were ungrateful for your fortunate circumstance. You loved you family and they loved you but, being an omega, an only girl and, the youngest of every one did not help at all!!!

"Are you ashamed of me omega?" The anger in your alpha's tone brought you out of your thoughts. You quickly straddled his hips grabbing his face in your hands.

"Never" You stated with finality. Your eyes soften while, staring at his ruby eyes. You let out a comforting scent cooing at your alpha. "I would never be ashamed of you, it's just my family is a little much." You sighed looking down at him, "I just don’t want them to ruin what we have."

His chest rumbled at your answer, he leaned against you rubbing his face against your sweat gland. Katsuki wrapped his arms around your waist locking you in place. You began to run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, he hummed in response. He placed soft butterfly kisses against your neck.

"There is nothing they can do to ruin anything, our relationship isn’t so fragile to be easily broken"

Your heart swelled with joy at his words. You purred happily pulling back to kiss his lips. You smiled brightly at him. "Ok let's meet the family then."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days have past and, you were FREAKING OUT! That same day you called your family with your alpha present letting them know about your relationship with katsuki. You of course played it safe, calling your mother over everyone else. You did not need a interrogation over a phone call with your alpha beside you. Your mother being an omega herself understood your point of view. That didn't mean she agreed with your method. After arguing for a bit with some pleading she conceded deciding it was best to let them know the day before your alpha and, you arrived. Rather than to blindside them completely.

Now here you were sitting in the passenger side of Katsuki's car in a light baby blue dress that fell just above your knees with some pale blue ankle strap heels to match. You always dressed up when you were nervous, it was a habit. This was your battle armor, your hero suit, you have self confidence sure but, it helped boost it just a little with dressing up. Your hair was perfect, your outfit matched, you had just the right amount of jewelry on, and a light amount of make up. You always tried to make it as natural as possible. The drive was a long one, which didn’t help the bad thought of everything exploding in your face go away.

Seeing you in distress was placing katsuki in a protective mood. He reached over interlacing your fingers with his, squeezing slightly to reassure you he was not going anywhere. He let out a comforting scent to calm his anxious omega. He gave a small smile when, he noticed your shoulders loosen up with your fingers relaxing in his hand. You gave a small squeeze back smiling up at him.

That's right everything will be fine. Everything will go smoothly. The second the thought passed your mind Katsuki hit the brakes making you lurch forward causing the seat belt to dig into your chest. You let out a distressed chirp at the sudden stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you came face to face with a very pissed off looking alpha, which so happened to be your brother. He stood a couple of feet away from the front of the vehicle staring angrily at Katsuki. For the love of-!!? Do you have a special hate for my positive thoughts that you have to shit all over it or, do you think its funny universe. You cursed to yourself in your mind.

Katsuki growled removing his hand from yours, unbuckling his seat belt. No no no no no! You haven't even gotten out of the car or, even made it to the house yet! Why?! Dear god why, is your brother starting a fight already! Before you got the chance to do anything Katsuki was already out of the car.

"Oi! What's your problem you fucking idiot!" Katsuki yelled out at your brother. You flinched...ahh goodbye romance. Marriage? Kids? Love life? What's that?

"You’re my fucking problem! You think you can just show up here with my little sister and, not get your teeth knocked in?!" Your brother yelled back. He then moved his heated glare towards you. You could see the hurt and, betrayal in his eyes. You already knew what the reason was, it was the simple fact that you didn't tell him.

You already knew he wasn't mad at Katsuki, he was just poor soul that took the blunt of his anger. He was upset with you. You’ve always been close with your brother. B/N was the middle child of your family, you were as thick as thieves, you always told him everything even about who you were dating but, this time you didn't. The overwhelming fear of your family not accepting Katsuki stopped you from telling him. Yes, B/N would jump on the band wagon of terrorizing your partners but, you always told him first before anyone.

"You must have some big balls to say that shit to me" Kasuki smiled but, you already knew what that smile was and, there was nothing pleasant about it.

You quickly unbuckled yourself getting out of the car "Wait! Wait! Wait! B/N please listen" You went to your brother's side pumping out your scent to calm your brother's inner alpha. You grabbed ahold of his arm pressing it against your chest. You suppressed the small chirp that wanted to come out due to the pain but, pushed through it. You didn't realize how hard the seat belt pulled against your chest until now.

"Oi Y/N, what's wrong?" Katsuki was instantly by your side checking on you. Meanwhile your brother was uncharacteristically quiet, now also glancing you over. You looked up at your alpha giving him a smile. You knew better than you lie to him.

"The seat belt hit a little too hard against my chest. I think i'm just a bit sore"

"I'm sorry" You heard your brother give a small apology with a sadden tone.

"We'll just call it even" You smiled.

"I don't" Katsuki glared down at your brother. "I don't care if you are her brother. That shit you pulled isn't ok. Grit your teeth" He growled out, the bitter burnt scent filled the air. He was pissed.

Katsuki grabbed your shoulder tugging you lightly to pull you away from your brother. Before you could even say word of protest out; Katsuki pulled his arm back, swinging his fist forward connecting to your brother’s cheek. Your brother was immediately knocked on his ass, his body meeting the asphalt. You gasped running over to your brother.

“Oh my gosh! B/N are you ok?!” You got onto your knees checking over him. Your brother let out a small groan, rubbing his cheek.

You turned glaring at your alpha, “Katsuki! What the hell!? I said, it was fine. It not like i was majorly hurt!”

Katsuki frowned crossing his arms, you knew he wasn’t budging from this. “It’s not alright and, he knows it.” He growled out. Katsuki’s ruby eyes never left your brother’s view.”I don’t give a fuck how angry you are at someone, it is never ok to hurt someone you love.”

“No one could have guessed this would happen!” You argued

Your alpha then moved his beautiful ruby eyes at you, “He forced us to stop the car causing you to get hurt. He needs to own up to the consequences of his actions weather it was intentional or not.Your safety is never up for debate.” He stated firmly with no room for further discussion.

“Y/N it’s fine. He is right.” Your brother stood up, bringing you up with him. “Which is why i didn’t move when, i saw what he was going to do.”

Your alpha grunted a acknowledgment at your brother. Katsuki went over to you bringing your body to his chest.

“Are you in pain?” He whispered in your ear while, rubbing your back gently. You felt your body relax into him with just his scent filling your senses.

You sighed in his touch, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Nothing a ice pack can’t fix” God, you loved your alpha.

You heard your brother clear his throat. You looked over at your brother refusing to relinquish your comfortable spot.

“Let’s get home so we can both get a ice pack. Your boyfriend packs a punch.” He whined. The anger he once held was gone and, was now replaced with a look of peace or, relief...maybe both.

You pulled back slightly to look up at your alpha. “Do you still want to meet the rest of my family?”

Your alpha smirked at you, “I don’t back down on something, I've started.” Of course he wouldn’t. Katsuki pulled away from you to start heading back to the car. Until you brother called out to you both.

“Hey isn’t that Ground Zero’s Insignia on the hood of your car?” You looked over to see your alpha’s hero symbol on hood of his car.

You smiled brightly at your brother “Yup, Katsuki is our all star pro hero. Which as you can see, he is none other than Ground Zero himself.” You turned away from your brother getting into the car.

“..holy hell...wait till everyone finds out about this” Your brother stated with a shocked expression.

I feel like it was a bit rushed. OH WELL! Part 2 of Family Meeting will come out soon. Of course it will be about Reader meeting the Bakugo Family. I hope you enjoyed this! Like Share Comment :D

#katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha bakugou katsuki #omega reader #bnha omegaverse #bnha a/b/o #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #fluff #romance #couples #bnha x reader #soft katsuki #soft bakugou

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the-victorian-elf · 3 years

Conversation

Tw. Meltdown/Ableism

I'm sorry i need to vent.

Yesterday i went out for a walk in the city with two friends. I thought that i was prepared because, and i'm not joking, the last time that i left my house was February so i had enough "social energy" stocked.

I was so wrong.

No one told me that we switched from a red covid zone to a yellow one which means a lot more people would hang out.

Have you watched Soul? Do you saw that scene of 22 experiencing the world for the first time? That's exactly what happened to me, sadly i grew up learning that "showing meltdown signs = being punished" so i basically shutdown.

I put the autopilot and wear my mask, i was suffering so much but i was counting minutes to come back home and explode. Suddenly one of my friend said "Well you're a very lucky autistic person you know? Some of them didn't even know how to laugh, they have a worst autism" and that hit me like a truck in the face. My repressed meltdown just exploded. I yelled at her how me being "lucky" meant years of abuse and manipulation, how me masking felt like stabbing myself multiple times until i was able to bleed, not heal, bleed alone in my room. She was shocked by my reaction and for me it was too much, i called my dad and left them there. It started raining and i'm not joking!!! Even the sky didn't give me a break.

I ran in a corner and i was really in danger because i was almost kicked by a car, the rain was too loud, the cars too loud, too many people ran under the rain, wet clothes were making me want to throw up. I called and recalled my dad but he was stucked in the traffic.

I couldn't breathe, my stims were painful and i was hurting myself. I couldn't remember the last time that i felt so bad. Cops were watching me and other men too.

30 minutes. i spent 30 minutes under the rain in a full meltdown. I feel that it will take me a lot to recharge from this.

Sometimes i feel so alone, when you're the only one experiencing this you feel like an outsider.

I know that Autism is a spectrum someone present his trait in a way that neurotypical could see as "worst" and another one like me could spent 23 years being punished because their masking cut their chances to have a diagnosis.

No one else is experiencing better or worst autism, we show traits that changes with each one of us, Autism is a spectrum for a reason and being definied "lucky" is the worst insult. Like being definied "worst" it would be for others. I just hate when neurotypicals needs to categorize everything in a linear scale.

The worst part is that she wants to be a psychologist and when i talked about a friend of mine that has ADHD she told me that it couldn't be possible since only child have that and then outgrow it...I really should stop hang out with people at all and keep having a virtual relationship with few of them. Obviously not with her. I would never talk with her again.

I'm sorry for the vent, i was so pissed off by this and i couldn't talk about it with anyone.

Thank you for your time.

#actually autistic #actuallyasd #actuallyautistic #autism spectrum disorder #vent #toxic friendship #meltdown #ableism

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geniusgub · 3 years

Text

north//chapter twelve

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff

pairing: season 11 and 12 spencer reid x oc

warnings: panic attack

word count: 12.4k

summary: change is wonderful. but there’s some changes that are far too drastic for spencer and amelia to handle.

pay attention to the pov changes and the time jump or else you’ll be confused!!!!!! it’s about to get good.

AMELIA

Months go by, and life goes on, and that's about all I have to say about the last few months. Spencer works and I bask in the successful, metaphorical glow of my last exhibit. I do some light work here and there but mostly, I take some time off and resort to lounging around and drawing in my sketchbook. Spencer complains though because he claims that if I have all this free time then he should too. But regardless, he leaves bed every day to go to work and fight the monsters of the world.

But nobody more than me knows that things change quickly. I accepted that a long time ago and the nature of Spencer's job just reiterated that sentiment, especially after he got shot. So even though it’s a bit too overwhelming when he comes home with cuts and bruises on his face, or get upset when he misses loosely planned dates because of cases, or we disagree on where to order dinner from or if we should even order at all instead of just cooking, nothing surprises me anymore.

It doesn't surprise me when Spencer calls me from work and tells me he needs to go to Houston for a case, and that he might be gone for a while. He tells me he loves me and that he'll be home as soon as possible, to be safe, and to drink a glass of wine for him. So I tell him that he's the one who needs to be careful and remind him many times of my love, then I force him to promise that he'll be careful. He does, and I send him in his way with one more proclamation of love.

Spencer has been through a lot. He's a very strong person, and he tells me a lot, but I know he doesn't tell me everything. He only wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to his feelings for me, but not with anything else. He's not an open book when it comes to work and the horrors he sees on a daily basis and relives in his dreams. I wish he was, but I know that part of the reason he doesn't is so he doesn't affect me. I wish he didn't think that way. I wish he could just confide in me without worrying about upsetting me.

That being said, he doesn't cry. As I lay on my couch and listen to one of the records Spencer bought me for Christmas, a glass of wine about to fall out of my hand, my eyes closed, I try to remember a time Spencer cried in front of me. I scrunch up my nose when I realize I can't think of a specific time. Well, maybe he has cried. Maybe he did in the hospital. Maybe he did when he revealed what happened with Maeve, or his drug addiction. I don't have his memory. Maybe my worries are for nothing and I don't need to waste my time worrying over him so much.

But the days pass and I hear very little from Spencer, so I distract myself with my friends. We go out and we spend nights at clubs and we congregate at someone's apartment to watch movies and it's a wonderful distraction, but it doesn't fill the void that Spencer leaves. So I often find myself leaving him quick voicemails in bathrooms and balconies and bedrooms, telling him that I hope he's safe and that I love him and to let me know when he's coming home so I can see him. I don’t ever hear back.

Friday's are normally easy and Friday's are brunch days with my friends. So I wake up and shower and dress for my day, pulling on my skirt and blouse, singing along to the records playing downstairs. I finish getting dressed and fall back into bed, reaching for my sketchbook to occupy me for another half hour until I need to leave.

"Amelia?" Spencer's voice comes through my apartment, frantic and panicked, as the door hits the brick wall and rattles the picture frames. "Baby, are you home?"

"Spencer?" I respond, and his head whips up, landing on me. He looks like an utter mess in a loose tie and disheveled suit, messenger and go-bag having already clattered to the floor. His hair can be likened to bed head and I can see from here that his eyes are red. I immediately rush down the stairs and forget everything I was just about to do. "Sweetheart, what happened?" I grab his cheeks, performing my normal routine of checking for injuries, and when I find none, I become utterly confused and even more concerned.

Spencer's lips quiver as he sniffles, but he can't hold anything back when tears start to pour down his cheeks. "I-" his hands reach for my waistline, grasping my skin and drawing me closer, "I missed you so damn much, Lia, god."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask when he pulls me even closer, our bodies pressing together and I can feel his rapid heartbeat against my chest. He tucks his head into my neck as he shakes his head no, arms finally circling my waist. "Okay," I whisper, coursing my fingers through his hair, closing my eyes as I breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. "I've got you, dove. I'm right here."

It only takes a second for Spencer to break down in tears, clutching my body like his life depends on it. Hearing his whimpers and feeling his shaking form breaks my heart, but I hold it together, rubbing him back, petting his hair, cooing in his ear, and telling him everything will be okay. His knees eventually give out so I lower us to the floor, landing in a weird position where I'm half in Spencer's lap while he cries in my neck. But neither of us seem to pay any mind to the fact that we're on the floor in the middle of my apartment. I just hold him and mutter sweet nothings and cheesy nicknames and pray to myself that he's okay.

"Spence, my love, can you talk to me? Can you tell me what's going on?" I whisper, trying to keep my voice low. I know that whenever I'm needing his comfort, his calm and low voice always helps me, so I try to provide the same for him. "I'm right here, sweetheart, talk to me," Spencer hiccups a few times as he lifts his head, and I reach forward to wipe his tears. "Take a breath, love. Just breathe, you're okay, I'm right here.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut and grasps at my thighs, and his head hanging forward. "I-" he takes a long, shallow breath, "you were clearly about to go out. Don't let me interrupt you."

I scoff out a laugh, shaking my head and pressing a kiss to his. He leans into my touch in a way that nearly makes me swoon. "Absolutely not, I'm not leaving you like this. You were on a case, is this about the case?"

Spencer nods slowly, keeping his head down. "You know about the whole thing with the group of assassins we've been hunting? The dirty dozen?"

"The people who've been targeting Penelope?" He nods again, and his hands tighten around my thighs. "Nothing happened to her, right?"

"No, no," Spencer finally lifts his head and sniffles again, wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand, "she's fine. Actually, she's finally able to go home now because of this case."

"Okay, tell me what happened. Something must have happened if you're crying," I put my hands on top of his and brush my thumbs over his knuckles, hoping to bring him extra comfort. He brings them against his chest, allowing me to feel it rise and fall a little too quickly for liking.

Spencer gulps. "I had to pose as a married man who wanted his pregnant wife killed so I could lure the last hitwoman out of hiding so we could capture her. We'd gotten everyone else, it was just her. She was so smart and she saw through the whole thing. She knew my ring was fake right off the bat. She set a timer on my phone and was asking me all these questions about me and how we found her and about me and my family and-"

"Your family?"

"After she got rid of my ring, she asked if I had a girlfriend and I said no and somehow, she believed me. And then she was telling me that the only person who would actually date me would be a brat and an idiot."

“I mean, I guess it’s up for debate but I wouldn’t categorize myself as either of those things.”

Spencer giggles, just a little bit, but a joyful noise nonetheless, and that’s enough for right this second. "Then it turns out that she had a partner in the restaurant the whole time who had rigged bombs in the basement. She threatened to kill all these innocent people if I didn't let her walk free, but I couldn't do either of those things." He's getting worked up again and his eyes are tearing up and his breathing is shallowing and it just breaks my heart.

"Bub," I whisper, squeezing his hands, "breathe, okay? You're here now, you're okay."

Spencer lets out a heavy breath that sounds painful. But he squeezes my hands tighter and continues. "The only way I could throw her off her game was by lying to her. Her father had, um," Spencer glances up at me with a nervous look in his eye, "killed her mother when she was young and she was fostered," oh, that's why he was hesitant to say that, "and I had to tell her that I went looking for her father and that I found him and he just didn't recognize her, but that wasn't true. I couldn't find him at all. But then when Morgan moved in to take her down, he lied and told her that her father was at the restaurant and I just-” he shutters, “it was so horrible. I was so scared. She had a gun on me the whole time and I've had guns pointed at me so many times but I knew she wanted to shoot me and I knew she hated me and I knew she would have no problem killing me at any time. It was- god, it was so horrible."

I scoop Spencer into my arms again as he collapses into a new fit of sobs, body trembling. "Spence, I'm so sorry. But you did the right thing. Just think about Penelope. She's safe now, right? She can go home now and she can sleep peacefully knowing that there aren't hitmen coming for her and that you helped take them down. That hitwoman is in prison and you won't have to see her ever again. Now you're here with me and you're safe, okay?"

Spencer doesn't answer. He just lets me hold him and whisper in his ear and part of me hates that he's not talking. He shuts himself off and just barely hears what I’m saying, and only reacts when I touch his hair. He doesn’t return any verbal or physical expressions of love, not that I’m the one who needs them right now, but he just lays limp in my arms and whimpers like a kicked puppy.

"Hey," I whisper, pulling him up a bit and holding his face in my hands, "why don't you go change your clothes and maybe take a shower, if you want, and then come back down? Maybe you'll feel a little better."

Spencer nods and pushes himself up. Without another word, he grabs his two bags and trudges up the stairs to my bedroom, and just a moment later, I hear the bathroom door open and then the shower running.

With a heavy sigh, I locate my phone and text my friends to tell them I won't be making it to brunch. I don't bother to wait for their inevitably irritated responses before tucking my phone away, rushing around my apartment. I find the basket I'm looking for and then snatch the blanket from the back of the couch. I toss food and snacks and drinks into the basket, listening carefully to the running shower upstairs. When I've assembled everything I need, I take a seat on the island and wait for Spencer to be done in the shower.

It's almost half an hour before Spencer comes strolling down the stairs in jeans, a tee-shirt, and his converse. His work attire and weekend attire have too much of a layover, in my opinion. He’s always wearing his trousers and cardigans, occasionally a blazer. I’ve only gotten the pleasure of seeing him in jeans and a tee-shirt a handful of times, so despite the fact that he's the one with the fancy memory, I try to commit the sight to memory.

He's running his fingers through his wet and growing curls when he enters the kitchen, furrowing his eyebrows. "What's all this?"

"We, my dove," I quip, reaching my hands out for him, "are going on a picnic."

Spencer's eyebrows pitch up while he half-heartedly puts his hands in mine and steps closer to me, standing between my legs. "A picnic? Where? On the balcony?"

"No, silly," I giggle, leaning forward to kiss his nose. It makes him scrunch up his nose in the most adorable way. "We're gonna go to the park. It's nice out today and it's rare that I get to have you home during the day so let me cheer you up. Just- humor me, okay?"

Spencer glances beside me at the basket and the blanket, then back at my pouting face. He sighs, resigned. "Okay, sure."

"Good," I grin, leaning forward to press my lips to his briefly. “Let's go before it gets too late."

Spencer grabs the basket and helps me off the island, leaving me to grab the blanket. I lock up my apartment and we head off, walking hand in hand, silence looming over us. We would both usually attempt to fill the silence on a walk, but this time, it feels appropriate. We let the silence exist and distract ourselves by swinging our hands between us. I’m content with it though and I can only hope Spencer is too. I can only hope the silence isn’t letting Spencer get lost in his thoughts.

We finally reach the park and pick a spot to set up, using our shoes to hold down the edges of the blanket before taking our seats. We unload the basket and pass snacks to each other, avoiding the wine I brought, just in case we wanted to let loose. But this clearly isn’t the time for alcohol. So I work on my pretzels and watch a little boy giggle as he flies a kite with his mom.

"So, um," Spencer eventually hums, staring down at the container of walnuts in his hand, "I actually, um, I lied to you."

My hands freeze when they reach for a water bottle, my eyebrows raising. "Excuse me?"

Spencer lets out a breath. He reaches for a walnut but doesn't eat it, and just swirls it between his fingers. "I did go to Houston but it wasn't for a case. I went to see my mom. I asked Garcia to cover for me if you asked or went to the office."

"Why'd you have to lie about that? Is she okay? Spence, I could've gone with you.”

"I know, I should've told you and I feel bad that I didn't but I just wanted to deal with it myself."

"So what happened? Something happened. I can tell. What happened?"

The walnut in his hand slips out and falls onto the blanket, and now that his distraction is gone, he hangs his head again. "I got a call from the facility and they said the medication they were giving her wasn't working anymore. She was agitated and angry and they wanted me to go see her. So I went and when I went into her room, for three seconds-" he lets out a shaky breath and I find myself wondering if he even has any more tears to fall, but I quickly get that answer, "she had no idea who I was. So I had her tested and I found that night that she has an early onset of dementia."

I'm speechless for a moment, just processing that heavy information. I surely don't know as much as Spencer does but I know that this is not apart of schizophrenia. I've never heard stories of Diana not know her own son. I’ve never seen him so upset after a visit with his mom. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this intensely sad. Usually, if he’s upset from a case, I can spend an hour or two distracting him and then I’ll be blessed with seeing his smile again. But after this, I don’t know if he’ll ever smile.

"Oh, Spencer," I lurch forward and hug him for what seems like the millionth time, but he doesn't make an effort to hug me back. His arms hang loosely at his side and he just noses at my neck, not even caring enough to kiss me or hug me or touch me at all. "Love, I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. I don’t know what to say other than I’ll be here for you and Diana and I’m always gonna be here to help you if you want it."

Spencer still doesn't respond and he still doesn't hug me back. So I let go and drop my arms to my side, chewing on my lip. I want to comfort him. I want to help. But he seems so lost in his own head, and that's the most dangerous place to be lost in. I know what it’s like to be trapped in your head with your thoughts, and I know Spencer does too, and it’s not a nice place to be. But I have no idea what I’m doing and I have no clue how to help him.

My eyes stray from his to the park around us. There are kids running around and dogs on leases and people going on runs. It's a stunning day out, and when my eyes linger up to the sky, squinting at the sun, I smile. I shift my body and lay down on my back, reaching back to rest my hand on Spencer's knee as I stare at the vast color that seems to match my eyes, or so I've been told.

"I think," I say softly, pointing upwards, "that one looks like a dinosaur." The clouds roll along in the sky and I study each of them quickly, searching for distinguishable shapes that I can point out. "And that one kinda looks like, well, I was gonna say an alien but now it looks more like a turtle," In the corner of my eye, I see Spencer tilt his head up to stare up at the sky. "And that one," I point to a passing cloud, "looks like a hat."

Spencer grabs the hand that is resting on his knees and intertwines our hands before laying down beside me. "I still don't get it. They're just clouds,"

"Then tell me about the clouds," I quip, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. "Educate me."

“Well, there are three main types of clouds. Cumulus, stratus, and cirrus. Stratus clouds are flat and featureless, like layered sheets. Cumulus clouds are puffy. Cirrus clouds are thin and wispy and are usually high in the sky.”

Spencer surely educates me. He goes on and on about the different types of clouds and the variations of them, and which produces the most rainwater and which form the fastest. I think he talks for close to half an hour, going on and on with his beautiful voice about something I never really give a second thought to. But I stare straight up and barely move a muscle, keeping my head on his shoulder and my hand laced in his.

"I talked for a while," Spencer chuckles as his lecture comes to an end, and he twists his neck to kiss my forehead. "Sorry."

"I enjoyed it. Can't say I'll remember it, but I like hearing you talk," I smile, turning to capture his lips in a kiss. "But I think that one looks like a lamp."

"I still don't see any pictures," Spencer sighs, returning his gaze up to the sky.

"That's okay. You will one day. It takes practice," I pause, squinting my eyes. "That's definitely a car. Like, a pickup truck," I reach my free hand over and grab Spencer’s cheeks, twisting his head for him at the passing cloud. Cumulus, I think. “There. That’s the pickup truck.”

"Thank you for taking my mind off everything," Spencer whispers, and his head breaks free from my grasp to look over at me. My hand drops to his chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I think I'd go crazy. I truly don't know what I did before you and I don't know what I'd do if you-"

"You-" I cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, "don't have to worry about living without me because I'm not going anywhere. That's a camera, no doubt."

Spencer laughs, returning his gaze up. "Whatever you say, beautiful."

“You know,” I drag my hand down to his stomach and brush my thumb over the soft fabric of his shirt, “this might sound a little stupid. But the day we met, when I left my apartment for the cafe, when I looked up, there was a cloud in the shape of a heart. And I don’t know why but I just knew it would be a good day. Is that stupid?”

“No, it’s not stupid,” Spencer says. “Actually, if we were characters in a fiction novel, that heart cloud could be considered an objective correlative. That’s a symbol or event or group of things that are meant to represent emotions in the story. So in a movie, it could be thunder and lightning before a bad event or feeling a chill go down your spine. Or the cloud could be considered foreshadowing, even though foreshadowing doesn’t exist in real life. And if it does then it’s just a coincidence. Yeah, I guess for you it would’ve been a coincidence. A good coincidence. An accurate one because, you know, you kinda fell in love after you saw the heart cloud.”

It's my turn to look at him now, and I study the curve of his nose, his jawline, the outline of his lips. He's stunning. The sun illuminates his features, even the sweat gathering at his hairline, and I can’t remember a time when I was this utterly, wholeheartedly in love with him. With everything about him. The good and the bad. "Spence, I know it doesn't seem like it, but everything is gonna be okay," I whisper, moving closer to him, nuzzling my nose against his neck while his arm wraps around my waist. "And even if it's not, I'm gonna be right here, holding your hand and staying by your side the entire time. I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me. No way."

"I wouldn't want to," Spencer quips, moving his arm around my waist. "I love you too much."

"I love you too. Come here," I sit up just a bit and draw his lips closer to mine, letting my eyes flutter closed. "Everything is gonna be okay, dove.”

///

ABOUT SIX MONTHS LATER

///

"Ow! Fuck, Spencer! That's way too hot!"

"Then turn it down."

"Well, my hands are a little tied right now."

"That's not my fault."

"It kinda is your fault because you made the stove too hot!"

Spencer laughs and comes up behind me, his arms circling my waist, resting his chin atop my head. "I'm sorry. You know cooking and baking aren't my forte."

I send Spencer a sharp look over my shoulder, huffing. "You're so lucky you're cute."

He rolls his eyes and then moves beside me, gently grabbing my wrist. "Let me see," he pulls my hand from under the running cold water to inspect my finger. "It's fine, just a little red."

"I know," I smile as Spencer brings my pointer finger up to his lips to lay a sweet kiss on my skin. "You're just so adorable."

"I try," Spencer shrugs innocently, making me laugh. "Okay, let's finish chocolate covering these strawberries and get them in the freezer."

I hum in agreement and move back to the stove, the heat setting now turned down by Spencer, post finger burning. So I reach over Spencer and grab another strawberry and dip it into the chocolate before setting it onto the wax paper. Once we've run out of strawberries, Spencer puts the tray in the freezer. I go skipping into his living room and curl up on the couch, turning on the tv and waiting for him to arrive.

It's only a minute before he's curling up beside me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my cheek. "It's amazing you didn't get called into work today," I say. "I guess since you had to miss our birthdays and Halloween this year, the serials killers decided to let us celebrate our two year anniversary together."

Spencer laughs as he pulls me even closer to his chest, placing a kiss on the top of my head. "I'm glad they did. I mean, I wish they let us spend every day together but I'm glad they let today be an exception."

I settle my head against Spencer's chest and keep my eyes on whatever's playing on the tv, brushing my fingers up and down his arm aimlessly. He hums contently and a smile comes to my face. These moments of quiet are rare. And getting to have these moments on days like today, our two-year anniversary, are few and far between. We have to take advantage of them while we can.

"Hey," Spencer whispers, "I've got a question." I hum in response, flickering my eyes up to him for a moment. "So, you know, you're always spending your time here and I'm always spending my time at your apartment," I immediately look back up at him, already understanding what he's about to ask. "We're always together so doesn't it just make sense that, you know, we live together?" He raises his eyebrows, then sucks his bottom lip between his teeth out of anxiousness. "We always make a point to get together when I'm home, and I know you sometimes stop by here when I'm away on cases. We should- doesn't it make sense? We'd get to see each other more."

My grin spreads across my face as I tackle him to his back, squeezing his waist. "Spencer, that sounds perfect. I'd absolutely love to move in with you."

"Seriously? You'd actually wanna buy a house with me?"

"Of course!" I giggle, bringing my hands to his jawline, holding his face in front of me. "Why do you think I’ve stuck around so long? Yes, Spencer, of course I do," He attacks me with kisses, quickly lifting me up and carrying me towards his bedroom. "Dove, the strawberries-"

"I don’t want the strawberries right now. I want you."

It was silly of me to expect that moment to last forever. Our second year together was amazing. Well, as amazing as it could have been. Spencer hunts the worst people in society and parts of him break every day and I start a new exhibit, but we still meet up when we can and hold each other and make each other laugh and cook and look at clouds (with only me describing shapes) and just comfort each other. It was completely foolish of me to expect that happiness bubble not to burst.

Spencer doesn't like change and that's not hard to tell. The change of dating me was hard enough for him and I've learned that it was hard for him to get used to a new daily routine with another person in it. But then the BAU team changes and that almost makes Spencer spiral. Alex Blake left a while ago and Spencer was crushed, and then Kate came and he loved her. But then she left to have a baby. Then Morgan went through a trauma and decided to leave to protect Savannah and his baby. He lost Morgan and then soon lost Hotch.

Hotch was targeted by a serial killer that I only know by the name of Mr. Scratch. He sounds horrible, especially since he captured Hotch and drugged him, then tried to get him to kill his team. Then there was a prison break that sounded absolutely terrifying and made me almost spiral when I heard about it, and Mr. Scratch escaped. And the first thing he did? Stalk Hotch and his son. Hotch decided to leave the team in the hands of Emily Prentiss, who I've learned is an old team member who left to work for Interpol after a very complicated sequence of events, and entered Witness Protection to keep Jack safe. Spencer learned so much from Hotch and looked up to him, so losing the unit chief was a huge hit. It was a hit for everyone on the team, but this huge change meant creating another new routine.

Although losing those valued team members was horrible and stressful, they gained amazing replacements. Tara, Emily, Luke, and Stephen are amazing profilers who jumped into the BAU pool with both feet in, and the rest of the team appreciated that. They give their all to the team and together, they're taking down the escaped serial killers who got away during the Rawdon prison break.

But then Spencer starts to get some phone calls. It started out as one, interrupting a late-night dinner date on the balcony after Spencer got home from a case. He didn't think much of it at first, not even going inside to his apartment to talk privately. Turns out, his mother wasn't reacting well to the new trial he just got her into. Spencer didn't take this news well and our dinner was ruined. He stormed inside and spent the rest of the night at his desk, reading the same stack of books about experimental medicine over and over. I cleaned up our plates and went home. That's when I first started to see him pull away from me. From life. From everyone.

The calls became more frequent after that and the books piled up on his desk. The dinner dates and the hookups and the mid-case phone calls stopped, and our before-work cafe dates have been completely nonexistent. Spencer put every ounce of free time he had into helping his mother and her condition, and I had to respect that so I didn't say anything. I let him research experimental medicine and do all the fancy doctor things that I'll never understand, and I just kept my focus on my art.

He decides to go out and visit her and insists I don't come, that he can do it alone. I try so hard to convince him, but he doesn't budge. So I concede and he takes a week off of work to go, and I practically lock myself in my studio. My friends come by and I keep my concerns about Spencer to myself, but then I rant when it's only Jenna around. She's confused too, understandably, but offers no valid advice. I don't blame her, if the roles were reversed, I wouldn't have a clue what to say. And when Jenna asks me if we've found a house that we like yet, I tell her that we haven't even started looking yet. Spencer has been too occupied with more important things.

When Spencer returns, a selfish thought comes to mind. I think maybe everything has been solved. I think that maybe all those hours Spencer spent ignoring me and focusing on his mom and researching experimental medicine have paid off and he's solved world hunger and now his mom is cured. It's absolutely horrible. It's maybe the worst thing I've ever thought. No, it's definitely the worst thing I've thought. But am I wrong for wanting things to go back to the way they were? Am I wrong for wanting my boyfriend back? No. Yes? I'm not sure. But all I know is that I'm worn down and no amount of wine can distract me.

When Spencer returns, he sits me down. And when he sits me down, I know my selfish thought was too selfish. My selfish thought made karma come back to bite me in the ass. He's got a solemn look on his face and he's not holding my hand or touching me at all, he barely even wanted to kiss me when he showed up at my apartment.

"So," Spencer sighed, running his hand through his grown-out hair, "um, the clinical trial that my mom is in isn't helping. She's not getting better." I had raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to get to the horrible and dark, inevitable punchline. "I'm gonna bring her here to live with me."

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, eyebrows turning in. "What?"

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. "She isn't getting better but whenever I go to visit, she seems to be fine. So I'm gonna bring her back here with me and she's gonna live with me. I'm gonna hire a nurse to watch her while I'm away on cases."

"Spencer, that's-" I let out a breath, tangling my hands on my hair. "I love you and you know that but I really don't think this is a good idea. Maybe this trial isn't helping her but another might. Find something close to here so you can see her more often but taking care of her yourself is going to be so hard. I don't think you realize what-"

"I've made up my mind, Lia," Spencer said stubbornly, as if ending the conversation there. "I've spent too long away from my mom and I don't want to anymore. She always feels better around me and I want her to get better already."

"Spencer." Just speaking his name made my heart hurt because I could feel the foundation under us crumbling. I could see it crumble when he doesn’t soften at the sound of his name from my mouth. That used to always happen. "This is a bad idea. Please reconsider. You're so busy with work already and then you're gonna go home and have to take care of your mother. You're not gonna have time to see me, or Henry and Michael and Hank, or do literally anything else. Spence," the selfish thoughts came back, "I'm sorry to be like this but you asked me to move in with you."

Spencer sighed, and that was all I needed. I stood from his couch and he quickly followed me to the door where I had already started pulling on my shoes. "Amelia, please. I know I asked you to move in with me but she's my mother and I can't abandon her-"

"She needs professional help!" I exclaimed, whipping around to face him. "You went through this pain when you were eighteen and you're gonna force yourself to go through it yet again when you don't even have to. Hey, Spencer, did you notice I got a new piercing?" I pointed to my ear and watched his face fall. "Yeah, I got my tragus pierced. But you've been so caught up in this experimental medicine thing that you haven't even noticed that. Just imagine how much more time you won't have when your mom starts living with you."

Spencer shook his head at me, just tucking his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes. "You're not listening to me." And then I left.

We didn't talk much after that. I texted him to make sure he was doing okay during his cases and got minimal responses. He eventually told me that he found a nurse to take care of Diana, and that he'd be traveling to Houston to take his mother out of the trial. It was surely the worst decision for Diana, but I guess I have to support my boyfriend.

So after Diana is settled into Spencer's apartment as much as she can be, I head over. She knew who I was right away from the two times I'd met her before, and Spencer and I were both surprised about that. I expected her to not recognize me and Spencer expected her to accuse me of being a spy. I didn't fully understand that, but when he explained how Diana had accused the nurse of being just that, it made sense. Kind of. I don't know how Spencer couldn't see it, but Diana didn't seem comfortable in his little apartment. Or maybe he did see it and just ignored it because he liked having her so close after so long.

Exactly what I predicted happened. I barely saw Spencer for two weeks and in the few times that we got to text, I found out that Diana wasn't doing well at all. She flooded the apartment and ran out the first nurse and now Spencer couldn't go on a case until he found a new nurse. She hated the taste of her medicine, which is odd because I've never found that pills have much of a taste unless you hold them in your mouth too long, and didn't want to take it. But Spencer is a hardass about medicine. I know that from experience when he complained I wasn't taking medication for my panic attacks.

But eventually, Spencer finds a wonderful nurse named Cassie who agrees to work with them and Spencer goes off on a case, and I accept that I'll never get to see him again. We text occasionally but I haven't heard his voice in weeks and we haven't gone on a proper date in maybe months and god knows we haven't had sex in forever. All those selfish thoughts return to make me feel like a horrible person, but am I horrible? Diana needs to be in a care facility, not her son’s apartment where he leaves every few days, and with a stranger who Diana believes is a spy.

I was completely ignorant to believe that our happiness bubble wouldn’t pop. No, the harsh beginning of our relationship would prove that no happiness lasts. We couldn't even get through a year without something tragic happening.

And it sounds so horrible, but at this point, I'm incapable of creating my own happiness. I need Spencer to be happy. I need him to be able to enjoy my tea in the morning. I need him to enjoy watching The Polar Express. I need him to find shapes in the clouds. I need him to make my spontaneous trips to the BAU to see Penelope. I need him so I can be happy. It's codependent and maybe it's toxic but he's my whole world. He's the reason I live and breathe.

///

SPENCER

///

I'm good at holding myself together. I'm good at putting on a smile and helping others before I help myself. It's become a skill of mine over the years, and maybe one that I shouldn't be so good at. But it is and I pride myself on not alarming my teammates when anything is wrong. But stalking cases are a whole other story. I do my best to keep up my world-class poker face when I see that the object of the unsubs affection is a brunette with bangs, but it proves to get harder and harder throughout.

I commend myself for keeping it together. I commend myself for keeping it together when the unsub kidnaps the brunette after we arrive. I commend myself for keeping it together when we witness the unsub send a bullet through the brunette's head. I commend myself for keeping it together as I slap handcuffs on the unsub and shove him in the backseat of a car. I even manage to keep it together through questioning from the whole team. Emily, Rossi, Luke, Tara, JJ, Stephen, and Garcia all ask me if I'm doing okay. Seriously, even the new people. I promise I'm fine. It was a while ago, I tell them, I'm fine.

I should be proud of myself for keeping it together until I get back to the hotel. I keep it together through the wrap-up interviews with the unsub and the goodbye with the local police, ignoring the images that are circling in my brain, now adding another set of images to resurface when I wish they never would.

I don't break down until I'm lying in my hotel room bed. It doesn't happen at first. I just lay down and stare at the ceiling and then my eyes start to burn and then suddenly, there are tears dripping down my cheeks. And as soon as one tear falls, there's a waterfall that follows.

I reach into my pocket and rip out my phone, searching for Amelia's number. I'm blinded by my own tears but I hiccup and hold the phone up to my ear, curling up on my side, ignoring the way I feel so uncomfortable in my trousers and converse and way-too-tight tie. After the phone rings twice, I accept that she's not going to answer, but then she does, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.

"Hi," she answers softly, and then pauses. "Spencer, what's wrong? What happened? You're crying."

"I know you're mad at me," I cry helplessly, squeezing my eyes shut, "but I really need you right now."

"Of course. I’m right here," she answers in her beautiful, sweet, calming voice. "What do you need? Are you okay?"

I hiccup again, bringing my hand up to my eyes and trying to wiping my cheeks. "It was-" I sniffle, "a stalking case.”

"Oh," Amelia answers, fully understanding. "Okay, dove, do you have your medallion?"

I suddenly remember that and I sit up, hastily grabbing my messenger bag and digging it out of one of the many pockets. "Y-Yeah, I have it now."

"Good,"

"Could you pick me up? I don't wanna drive home."

"Of course. I'll be waiting when you get back."

///

The ride up the sixth floor is excruciating. I'm cramped with everyone else and I just want to go to sleep. I just want to be with my girlfriend. Emily looks over at me and smiles, but I don't bother to profile her smile. Whether it was pity or sorrow or just plain friendliness, I don't care at the moment.

I'm the first one out of the elevator when the doors slide open and my eyes wander inside and to my desk, and my feet glue to the floor. Everyone passes right by me and into the bullpen, but I just stare at the beautiful scene in front of me.

Amelia is sitting on my desk with her legs crossed, dressed in oversized sweats, which are definitely mine, with her curly hair in a bun and her glasses on. I can't blame her for her outfit choice, it is nearing midnight. But she's got her sketchbook in her lap and she's speaking to Henry who's sitting in my desk chair with a notebook in his lap, and she's clearly instructing him on how to draw something. He turns his notebook to her and she grins proudly before giving him a high five. Henry encourages her to teach him something else and they both flip their pages. Amelia leans in with her pencil in hand to show him something else.

"Hey," JJ comes from behind me and lands at my side, following my line of sight. She grins and watches the two interact perfectly, and Amelia gives Henry another high five. "You know, if we don't get a case this weekend, I'm available to go look at rings."

I just start to nod slowly, my head fuzzy with the amount of love I'm feeling for my girlfriend. We haven't been in a good place with our relationship and that's not really a secret. She isn’t happy with my choice to bring home my mom, and she's upset that she feels like her life has to suffer because of the choices I've made, and that's completely valid. But here she is, dropping everything to come and comfort her crying boyfriend at midnight on a Wednesday night, despite how upset she is with me.

So I just look down at JJ, nodding, and her smile grows as I say, "Deal."

///

AMELIA

Change can be such a beautiful thing. Change can be the thing that encourages people to start over and become a new person. A big enough change can transform a life. My life has been change after change after change that I've embraced it and welcomed it. If I don't accept something that happens so constantly in my life, where would that get me?

But sometimes change isn't good. Sometimes it's imperative that things stay the same. There are times where life is too hectic and busy and it would be detrimental for change to make an appearance. Change, then, makes life far too stressful and just plain unlivable.

I thought I'd gone through enough change since meeting Spencer. Dating an FBI agent, specifically, someone in the BAU, changes enough. But then he gets injured and he misses important dates and he works with the man who arrested my serial killer father and he brings his paranoid schizophrenic mother with dementia home to live with him. That's enough change for anyone, and Spencer hates change. I've never met a person who hates change more than him.

I've learned to keep a normal routine since I met Spencer. Well, as normal as I can. Even though I may not be doing anything in a day, I always get up and get dressed, whether Spencer is around or not. I've gotten used to not changing things and I've found the comfort in it.

I don't let today differ from my other days. I wake up in my cold, empty bed and stumble into a cold shower, washing away the throbbing between my legs and the oil on my skin. I blow dry my hair and get dressed in a white sundress that Spencer once told me is his favorite, tying half my hair back with a bow. I do my makeup and put in my piercings and clean my new piercing and go about my life, checking my phone for a text from Spencer. But all I find is groupchat texts from my friends and a text from Jenna asking me if I wanna go out tonight, so I put my phone away and go make myself a cup of tea.

My tea tastes wrong today. I've put in too much sugar and it doesn't taste right when Spencer's not making it for me, or when he's not holding my hand, or when he's not stealing kisses before rushing out the door for work. Life just isn't the same without him and I wish that he could come to his senses about his mother.

I'm halfway through my cup of tea when there's a knock at my front door. The irrational part of my brain perks up and thinks it's Spencer coming home from his trip to Houston, but the rational part of my brain knows that he would go home to his mother first. His mother comes first now. That is a change I need to get used to. Selfish.

"Coming!" I call, setting my cup of tea down on the island. I double-check to make sure I've turned off the stove and the kettle is safely moved aside before rushing to the door.

I pull open the door and instantly, my heart sinks to my feet. Seeing Penelope and JJ standing at my door would usually make me smile and pull out a bottle of wine, but today, it makes my hands sweat. I know this isn't good. I can tell it isn't good by the way JJ is staring down at the floor and by the tears stains in Penelope's makeup.

Spencer is dead. That's it. He's gone. I don't know how it happened but he's dead and gone and I'm all alone. My head starts to spin and I grip the doorknob in my hand so tight that I think I might break it off.

JJ's head pops up a moment later and she gives me a quick, tight-lipped smile and I notice her grab onto Penelope's hand. "Hi, Amelia," she says, her voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it before. "We, um, we gotta talk to you."

I gulp, my chest burning as I nod and open up the door a little bit further for them. The two step inside and even though they've been in my apartment a few times, when I was invited to ladies nights and hosted, they walk as if they're strangers. They're uncomfortable strangers who would rather be anywhere else.

I close the door and the three of us linger in the entryway. I almost regret not putting on a record this morning because the silence is choking me. Garcia is avoiding eye contact and looking around and JJ is doing something similar, but her eyes are stuck on my wall of pictures. And it seems to be the picture of Spencer and I. It was one that had taken hours to convince him to take and when I'd finally pressed the button on my camera, we were giggling relentlessly and Spencer was clinging to my side. It's one of my favorite pictures of us, which is why it's on my wall. I look at it every day and wish we could go back to that moment.

"Do you guys want a drink or anything?" I offer because I just don't know what else to say. I truly don't want to hear what they have to tell me.

Penelope turns her head back to me and shakes her head. "Um, no. No thanks."

"Amelia," JJ states, her voice sharper than I imagined. But then she brings her eyes to mine and her face softens. "Do you, um, do you wanna sit?"

"Tell me what happened to him." I sputter, bringing my hands to my hips. I'm already breaking and there are already tears in my eyes. They wouldn't be here during a work day just to tell me that Spencer is happy and healthy at work, about to get on the jet so they can go to their case.

Penelope lets out a whimper and puts her face in her hands, pulling her hand away from JJ's. JJ sighs and looks between me and her friend. "Spence is, um," she lets out a breath again and forces out whatever words are painful on her tongue, "he got arrested in Mexico. He was in a car chase with the Mexican police and then he was found with a huge amount of cocaine and heroin in his trunk, and he was high out of his mind. Emily, Rossi, and Luke went down to Mexico to investigate and they found a body and they're now charging him with drug possession with the intent to distribute, and manslaughter."

Like I said, some change is good. Changing bed sheets, changing clothes after a workout, changing your mind on a restaurant for dinner. Change is necessary for life to go on. Not change like this. I could never accept a huge change like Spencer getting arrested in a foreign country while being high. All of that is absolutely ridiculous and I almost roll my eyes when JJ tells me. But her face stays stoic and I know it's true.

Sometimes, I can feel myself getting pushed into the ground. I can feel my feet melt into the hardwood floor and I watch as the room starts to spin like a carousel. But there's no eccentric horse and no cheerful children. It's just me and my tears and my trembling knees.

"Amelia?"

There's a voice but I can't tell who's it is. Maybe it's JJ. Maybe it's Jenna. Maybe it's Penelope. Maybe it's Spencer. Maybe it's my mom. Maybe no one spoke at all. I can't even tell what's real anymore. If Spencer is high and getting arrested then we surely, must have entered a new dimension.

"He was framed, Amelia, we know it."

There's the voice again, and suddenly there's a hand on my arm, but my whole body tenses. My eyes glaze over and I can't even breathe, my chest heaving every time I try. Silent tears fall down my cheeks and I know that the longer I stand here, the more pain I feel.

But the glue under my feet has taken a liking to this specific spot of the floor and I'm stuck. So utterly stuck in this spot, in my head, in this lifetime. I can't breathe anymore. My lungs are flattened and they won't inflate.

"Amelia, you need to breathe."

I move my lips but no words come out. I'm grappling for words and gasping for words and I know what's happening but I can't stop it. Spencer always stops them. He always speaks to me in his soothing voice and waits to touch me until the nonverbal part of my attack has passed and then he hugs me up until I almost bruise.

But thinking about Spencer makes my knees buckle and I crumble to the floor, staring down at the hardwood as my tears create a puddle. I hang my head and ball my hands into fists, trying to find something to ground me but there's nothing. JJ and Penelope don't know what to do and Spencer can't magically appear to help me. They can't even call him because he's been arrested. Arrested.

My boyfriend has been arrested. My FBI boyfriend who wasn't happy to bail me out I when I was arrested for spray painting a brick wall that was public property. And now he's getting arrested for being high, being in a car chase, narcotics possession, and now murder? My boyfriend? My boyfriend who walks around with his sobriety medallion and cringes when we even see a scene on tv of someone doing drugs. This isn't him. This isn't My Spencer.

"Emily, Luke, and Rossi are with him. They said he's hazy and missing time but he's okay."

He's not okay. God, no. He won't be okay. He relapsed and once he comes down, he's going to be crushed. Absolutely pulverized. He'll never want to look at his medallion again. His medallion. Where the hell is that?

Time passes. So much time passes. It feels like forever. My hands bleed and my knees ache and my back is sore and my head starts to pound. I eventually collapse onto my side, almost curled up in the fetal position, my eyes squeezed shut. I need Spencer. I need him to hold me and to tell me he's going to be okay and to come home. Someone needs to tell me this has all been a cruel, disgusting, horrible prank.

"Amelia?" It's Penelope this time, that I know.

"Amelia, can you hear me?" And now it's JJ and she's crouching right beside me. I nod weakly and she sighs of relief. "Can I get you something? Water?" I nod again, and she goes rushing off to my kitchen.

Penelope helps me sit up again and leans me against the wall, wiping the tears from my cheeks. Her touch feels nice but it's not the same as Spencer's touch. Nothing will ever be the same.

"We're gonna save him," she whispers to me. "We're gonna prove that he was framed and we're gonna bring him home."

JJ returns with a glass of water for me and joins the two of us on the floor, crossing her legs. I sip slowly, my hands still shaking and my knees pulled up to my chest, protecting myself. My thoughts are shooting around in my head and I can't stop them.

"We've been fighting recently," I confess quietly. "Ever since he decided to bring his mom home, we have. On our anniversary, he asked me to move in with him and we agreed to buy a house, then he brought his mom home and started ignoring me. He cared more about experimental medicine than he did about me."

"That's not true," Penelope murmurs, placing her hand on my knee. "Anyone with eyes can see that Reid loved you more than himself. He'd lay down his life for you. He looks at you like you put the clouds in the sky," The statement makes my head spin quicker.

"Why don't you," JJ speaks next, "pack up some stuff and come to the BAU with us? You probably shouldn't be alone right now and you could use some company."

"Plus, we can keep you updated on Spencer when you're closer," Penelope says. "Go pack and we'll drive you."

I put the glass of water on the floor and manage to push myself to my feet. I trudge away from the girls and up the stairs to my bedroom, lugging a duffle bag out from under my bed. It almost doesn't feel real as I put a few things in the bag. It feels like someone else is controlling my body. I’m not moving like this. I’m not living in this dimension.

I make my way back down the stairs and see the two women still lingering in the doorway, not even speaking. But they give me pitiful smiles when I enter, and they don't say anything when I grab my keys and open the door. I don't clean up my water glass or my cup of tea or double-check anything. I just need to leave.

///

Stephen and Tara's heads pop up when the elevator doors open, but I keep my head high. They're profiling me, as they always are with everyone, but I don't want to give them the power to see me so broken. So I keep my face neutral as I march right past them and down the hallway, directly into an empty interview room and slam the door shut.

Maybe it's wrong of me to be so cold to the team that is doing their best to help Spencer, but I can't help it. And maybe I'm mad at him. Maybe I'm fucking furious. How could he do this? How could he go to Mexico and put his life at risk, being a federal agent and being such a big target? How could he neglect to tell me that he was leaving the country? How could he do this to his team and his mom? How could he do this to me?

"Amelia?" Tara's knocking at the door, entering before I can even say come in. "I'm just checking in on you. I'm sure you're upset. We all are."

"He's stupid," I'm not sure why that's the first thing out of my mouth, but it is. "He's a fucking idiot. I've always known that but I didn't think he'd be this stupid."

Tara sighs and leans against the wall, dropping her head and trying to stay calm and level for me. "Did you know he was going to Mexico?"

"He told me he was going to Houston to meet with a doctor, that's all," I shake my head, ripping the too-cheerful bow out of my hair and letting it fall to the floor.

"When Garcia looked into his travels, it turned out that he crossed the border three times." I can't even bother to react. My body just feels numb and no new information can get past the shield I'm putting up. "You had no idea of any of this?"

"He always told me he was going to Houston. I never would've thought he was going to Mexico. Tara," my teary eyes travel up to meet hers, "JJ and Penelope said he was framed. Who is trying to frame him?"

Tara grabs a chair from the table a few feet over and sits in front of me. "Did Spencer ever tell you about someone named Mr. Scratch?"

"Him? I thought he was going after Hotch."

"He's coming after all of us. He came after me, he kidnapped my brother and drugged him, and we know that he did the same to Reid. It's our job now to find the evidence that points to Scratch." Stephen is at the door now, giving me a pitiful smile before gesturing for Tara to follow him out. She pats my knee before standing. "We're gonna get him home. You're obviously welcome to stay here, and if you need anything, let us know."

///

I thought that being apart of one FBI-involved case was enough for one lifetime. I don't miss being in this stale interview by myself while the BAU does their work, scrambling for evidence that supports Spencer and gets him home. But there's clearly not much or else I would have heard something. All the horrible memories of my childhood in police stations surface and swirl around my brain, leaving me frantically covering my eyes to will them again. I’m a kid again, laying on an uncomfortable couch and watching officers go back and forth without even looking at me. I’m a kid again, lost and confused with nowhere to go and no one to love me.

JJ and Penelope stop by over the day to check in on me and bring me food whenever they order some, but I don't eat much. I just spend my time staring at the wall and trying not to cry. I eventually leave the room just to change into sweatpants and a hoodie, and when I return, my phone is buzzing with a call from Jenna.

"Hey," she answers, and there's quite a bit of commotion from her end. "You were supposed to be here a half hour ago and The Bachelor starts in twenty minutes, so are you coming? Everyone else is already here and Frankie said he's gonna eat your Popeye's order soon."

"No," I answer quietly, "I'm not gonna make it. Sorry. I forgot to call."

"Are you okay? You sound off," Jenna's no profiler but she's always been good at hearing when I'm off. "Did something happen? Is Spencer okay?"

I cover my eyes with my hand and let out a shaky breath. "No, Jen, he's not."

There's a moment of silence on her line and the shouting from our friends gets quieter as she gets further from them. "Are you guys fighting more? What'd you guys say this time?"

"It's so much worse than that," I cry, curling up on the couch as the waterworks start yet again. "He got arrested." And so I start the story, relaying the details as I know them.

It's now that I accept the situation. Spencer is being framed by a criminally sophisticated serial killer who organized a prison break from behind bars. There won't be evidence. No, actually, there will be evidence and it will all be planted to point to my boyfriend. The minimum sense for murder is twenty years and the maximum is life. No matter what, he's going away for a long time or for forever. I might never see him in my bed again, or on my balcony, or buy a house with him, or have a family with him.

And so I cry to Jenna for hours. She misses The Bachelor and she has no idea who gets sent home or who gets a rose, but I don't think she cares. She listens to me cry over my tainted life plans. The wedding I'll never have. The kids I'll never birth. The mortgage I'll never pay. The college acceptance days I'll never attend. The birthday parties I'll never throw. It may never happen. And I've never been a pessimist, but this is the perfect time to be one.

I know that I fall asleep on the phone with her because when I wake up, my phone is on the floor of the room and it's still unlocked, telling me that it's nearly three in the morning. I'm wide awake and plagued with memories of the times I used to sit in bed with Spencer at this early morning time, eating Chinese food or ice cream and sometimes playing dumb card games that he lets me win or watching movies in a language I don’t speak or teaching him how to braid my hair.

I leave the dark interview room and wander into the dimly lit bullpen, finding right away that the four members of the BAU that are in the country are still in the conference room. They're working through the night and I wish I had the energy in me to thank them.

I push open the doors with every intention of forcing yself to have to energy to thank the team, but I pause when I get to Spencer's desk. His cardigan is still on the back of his chair, and there are more books covering the desk than I’ve ever seen. My pinky promise note has never moved from its spot on his computer and there are now two framed pictures of me on the desk. One is the same one that's hanging in my apartment, and the other is just me on my balcony, grinning at the camera. I hated the picture at the time and I still hate it now. Clearly, Spencer loved it enough to get it developed and put it on his desk. Every time I come here and see this picture, it makes me fall in love with Spencer just a little bit more.

I sit in the cardigan-covered chair and open the top drawer, finding basic office supplies. The next drawer is full of case files and paperwork that I don't have the stomach to go through, and besides, I'm sure I'd be the next to get arrested if I go through them. Federal business and all. I already know what is in the bottom drawer but I open it anyway, and I find that the stash of snacks I supply is still held there. I smile when I find that there are new snacks there, meaning that Spencer has finally learned and eats more when he's at work, even taking it upon himself to buy things other than what I provide for him.

I swivel the chair to the other side and open the only drawer on that side. This drawer is filled with the sketchbook/journals that I've provided for him, and at this point in our relationship, after two years, I've provided him with six already and he's working on his seventh. Each one is decorated differently and uniquely and each one is filled with whatever Spencer decides. I also find one of my hair scarves in here but I don't dare to touch it. I lost this scarf very early in our relationship and I realized I left it at Spencer's apartment, and I knew he'd never give it back to me. I steal his clothes and he steals my hair scarves.

The last thing I find is Spencer's medallion and I quickly pull that out, slamming the desk drawer closed. I'm not sure what to think of this. Did he leave it behind because he was tired of being sober? Did he leave it here on accident? Did he leave it here because he was framed and he didn't plan on getting drugged in a foreign country? I juggle the medallion between my fingers like I've seen Spencer do so many times and wonder if Spencer remembers his promise. I wonder if he remembers that he promised to always come home to me, that he'll always go north and he'll come home to me. Does he remember that?

"Hey," Penelope leans against the desk, giving me a small smile, "I've got a tiny bit of good news."

"Good news?" I echo, not at all convinced. How could they have good news that's tiny? The only good news in my book right now would be Spencer is released from custody.

"Yeah," she nods eagerly, "it turns out that the woman who was killed was a Mexican and an American citizen. The case was just extradited! They were gonna move Spencer to El Diablo Maximum Security Prison but instead, he's gonna go to federal jail here and await his trial."

I just nod at this news, because it's not really good. He's not proven innocent, in fact, plenty of people seem to think he's guilty if he was supposed to go to a Mexican prison. He still has to go to jail and stay there to wait for his trial and he still has to be proven innocent. It's not good news.

"Amelia, it's good, I promise. This means that we can control the case." But I still don't look up from the medallion as it passes between my fingers, and I only look up when she speaks again. "They're on their way back now and they're stopping by here first before bringing him to the federal jail."

"Really? Am I gonna be allowed to see him?" I perk up, the medallion rolling out of my fingers as I jump to my feet.

"Yeah! He's supposed to keep his handcuffs on but if we get you guys into an interview room or something, I'm sure we can make an exception for you," Penelope rubs her hand up and down my arms, smiling. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but everything's gonna be okay."

I scoff out a laugh, already retreating back to my lonely interview room. "It's funny, that's what I said to Spencer when he was upset over a case once. Guess I was wrong."

///

"Amelia, he's here." Penelope beams, waving me out of the interview room.

When I get to the elevator, Spencer is already hugging JJ. She sighs as she's nudged by his jacket-covered, handcuff-bound hands, hugging him as best as she can. I hear her promise the handcuffs are only because there are other people around, and Spencer nods in understanding. He looks horrible- exhausted and disheveled and nothing like the man I fell in love with. But as soon as I see him, a new wave of overwhelming, painful emotions wash over me.

Spencer lays eyes on me and his face crumbles, stepping past JJ to get to me. "I'm sorry," he whispers, but I'm not quite sure what it is he's apologizing for. There's a mountain of things it could be for. But I don't care.

I forget all the horrible things I was thinking before and pull the jacket away from his hands, ducking down and moving inside his circled arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. I squeeze him as tight as I can because I know he can't really hug me properly, and I hear him sigh contently. He melts into my embrace. His arms just hang around my waist but I barely pay mind to them. He's here and that's all I care about. He’s here and he’s touching me and he’s not okay, but he is alive and that’s all I care about.

"Are you okay?" I murmur into his neck, my eyes closed.

"No," he answers, and while I'm happy with his honesty, I'd do anything to change that answer. "I relapsed. After all those years, I relapsed."

"Spencer," I pull away and put my hands on his cheeks, staring into his red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes, "did you do it? Did you kill that woman and did you take those drugs and did you intend to distribute that stuff?"

"No, absolutely not," he answers quickly, shaking his head. "I-I was there," he looks over to make sure the team has left and they have, to give us privacy, "to get medication for my mom. I'm missing time from the drugs but that's the only thing I'm sure of. The medicine she was on wasn't helping and I found this experimental treatment but this doctor would only give it to me in Mexico and Scratch must have found out and used it against me and I'm so, so sorry, Amelia."

"Okay," I whisper back, nodding. "I believe you, dove. Whatever you tell me, I believe, you know that. The team believes you too and they're doing everything they can to prove your innocence."

He glances into the doors of the bullpen where the team is surely debriefing, now together after almost a week of being apart. Then Spencer brings his gaze back to me and rests his forehead against mine. "Are you okay? You look tired."

"Don't worry about me," I give him a tiny smile. "You worry about you."

"You had a panic attack." He quickly concludes, his face contorting into one of concern. "Where were you? Were you alone? Were you-"

"I was at home and I was with JJ and Penelope, but you know that you're the only one who helps. Anyone other than you just makes them worse. But it's fine, I'm fine. Don't waste your energy on me."

Spencer sighs, resigned, his eyes fluttering for a moment. "Can I give you a kiss?"

I savor the kiss. I savor the moment. I savor the way Spencer tries to get his hands on my back. I know that life is changing for a while. My pessimism is rearing its ugly head and I can't stop it. And whether I'm the only pessimist here or nobody else is confessing what they're thinking, I'm the only one acting on it, it seems. I kiss Spencer with everything I have because as soon as he's here, he's gone. He's sitting in a jail cell and he's staring at all without me and without his team. But this is the change that life has brought us. A change that I refuse to adapt to.

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting @babybloodstonebones @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrrywildflower @penemily @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @blakes-dictionxry @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #matthew gray gubler #matthew gubler #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic

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rydiin · 5 years

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'Why Meadow Died: The People and Policies that Created the Prkland Sh**ter and Endanger America's Students' By Andrew Pollack & Max Eden

(This info is in addition to a previous post that emphasizes a specific chapter from the book).

Information about NC:

One female student was so afraid of him that she often wanted to stay home.

- One day a rumour spread like wildfire: Cr*z had killed his cat. This student worked up the nerve to ask him, "What happened to your cat?". He replied, "I took it in the backyard. I have a lake. I put it in its cage and I drowned it.” "What do you mean?" "I killed my cat."

- NC showed them a series of pictures on his phone. His cat. His cat in the cage. The cage going into the water. The cage coming out of the water. The cat, wet and dead. This student was horrified. NC was transfixed, both by the pictures and by her horror.

As seen in his educational record, he was diagnosed at age 3 with developmental delays and later with a speech impairment, a language-processing deficiency, and attention deficit disorder.

After February of 2013, he was suspended for nearly half of the next calendar year.

"I never had him as a student. But everyone knew who he was because he wreaked havoc." -Teacher at Westglades

In September 2013 he banged on a classroom door so violently that the glass shattered, striking students inside. This was characterized as vandalism but never formally recorded on his disciplinary record.

On October 21st, his teacher (Carrie Yon) emailed assistant principle Atonio Lindsay, "I wanted to let you know about Nick's behavior today. He seems to be getting worse with each day. Following is what took place in the first 10 minutes of class". She explained that when he wouldn't stop screaming, she told him she'd have to ask him to leave if he kept up the disruption. When he stuck up his middle finger, she went over to the phone. Cr*z ran over, took the phone from her, tried to dial 911, banged the phone on the receiver when that didn't work, and then ran out of the classroom.

Several teachers, in exhasperation and perhaps fear, tried to refuse to let him into their classroom. But they were informed by the school administrators that this was not permitted.

In November he was referred to the PROMISE program for vandalizing a bathroom faucet, but did not attend for reasons the school district refuses to explain. If a student skips PROMISE, district policy requires that he be referred to the juvenile justice system, but he was not for reasons the school district refuses to explain.

On November 20th, 2013, he ran into the middle of a busy road during a fire drill. Students were terrified as he could have died if an oncoming car had not stopped in time. Teachers assured students, "Don't worry, he's going to go somwhere he can get the help he needs now". But this was merely optimism. Another teacher wrote a disciplinary referral categorizing his suicide attempt as "Gross Insubordination" and "Aggresive and Dangerous Behavior." But school administrators rejected that categorization and categorized it instead as a minor act of disruptuption."

"If Cr*z had been involuntarily committed for psychiatric observation under Florida's Baker Act in response to his suicide attempt, it could have accelerated the process of sending him to Cross Creek. But he was not. It took until February 2014, five months after Westglades began the evaluation process and one year after his misbehavior became so severe that he was suspended essentially every other day, to send Cr*z to Cross Creek."

When teachers of Cr*z were asked what he was interested in or enjoyed, almost every single one of his teachers mentioned guns, the military, or war.

This excerpt speaks to the insanity of mainstreaming a student like Cr*z back into a traditional school like MSD. These things did not happen before Runcie became superintendant and brought more social justice ideology into the mix:

"According to Ms. Campbell, before Robert Runcie became superintendent, she had never seen a student mainstreamed from a school like Cross Creek in less than three years. The process typically took several semesters, with the student’s IEP team *gradually* adding class periods at the traditional school and carefully monitoring any changes in the student’s behavior. Cr*z spent his first semester at MSD taking two classes, largely unsupervised, and then began attending MSD full time the following semester. Ms. Campbell said that she had never heard of anything like it. This all bears reiterating to emphasize the insanity of it: Cross Creek staff were well aware of Cr*z’s profoundly disturbing behavior at Westglades. They knew about his obsession with guns and dreams about killing people. They were so frightened that they took the extremely rare step of contacting his private psychiatrist. Yet not only did they return him to a traditional high school at an unprecedented speed, they also enrolled him in JROTC, a course in which he would learn to shoot using an air gun that resembled an AR-15."

On December 14th, 2015, Cr*z's IEP team decided to allow him to attend MSD full time. He had made progress in the intensive therapuetic setting of Cross Creek, where well trained professionals could watch him like a hawk. But when he transitioned to MSD, his old "beheavior management" plan was discontinued and no new plan was created. Teachers were left uninformed about who the student was, what to watch for, and how to support him.

Looking back on the transition, a staff member lamented, "They just threw him to the wolves."

Cr*z bragged about getting a gun to sh**t up the school in Feburary 2016. The officer who recieved this alert told the concerned woman that Cr*z's instagram post was "Protected by the first amendment right of free speech". The woman asked if there was *any way* to prevent Cr*z from getting a gun when he turned 18, and the officer said that Cr*z’s right to purchase a firearm was protected by the 2nd amendment and *nothing* could be done.This officer was WRONG. Threatening to shoot up a school is a felony that could have prohibited him from buying a gun. (And even IF he wasn't convicted, an arrest could have gone a long way toward LE taking future reports about NC seriously.) This officer didn't even write a police report about the call.

NC often came to school dressed in full camoflauge gear, mask included, and jumped from behind poles to scare other students.

He would bring dead animals in his lunch box and give it to another student, telling her there was a treat inside.

Dana Craig submitted statements about Cr*z's threats to her and her friends but administrators did nothing. One day she was sitting in class when NC came in and walked straight toward her, and stood over her, staring and breathing loudly, as a hush fell across the classroom. After what seemed to be like a long time, security monitor Anna Ramos entered and said, "Someone here isn't where he's supposed to be" and took him out of the classroom. Records don't show him being taken to the office for this.

When MSD math teacher Suzanne Giorgione found out she was teaching Cr*z, she went to school administrators and told them she refused to set foot in the same classroom as a student who had previously threatened to kill her. As a result, Admin rearranged his schedule.

Several students reported having friends whose parents had complained about having Cruz in their child's classroom, and the school responded by changing *their* schedules.

At the beginning of the school year (a month before his fight with Enea), he approached Enea to shake his hand and call a "truce", telling him that "he could have her".

However, on September 20, 2016 Cr*z threw a water bottle at Enea and then jumped on top of him, punching him. Enea stood up to try to throw Cruz to the ground but NC held on tenaciously, *attempting to bite Enea's face*, only to catch Enea's hair in his teeth and hold on that way. The infamous fight video only catches the end of it when students jump in to break it up.

After the fight, administrators searched his backpack and found bullet casings. He explained he used his backpack to go hunting. According to MSD documentation, when asked why he liked to hunt, he replied that he liked to get food, then asked, "Isn't that what normal people would say?"

Before he attacked Enea, he told students at his table what he was about to do and they recorded it from the beginning. Students who took these videos were called down to the office and told to delete them. These videos would have provided clear evidence of a hate crime (NC repeatedly threatened him, called him a n*gger and other racial slurs, and had now attacked him). But MSD wanted to be seen as a school without crime and chaos, so they demanded evidence of fights be deleted.

Enea received an out-of-school suspension, while NC only received a two day ISS.

At this point, NC's safety plan included banning him from having a backpack at school: "The obvious rationale: if he has a backpack, he could bring a deadly weapon to school and kill people. They decided that Nikolas Cruz was too dangerous to be allowed on campus with a backpack but he should *not* be arrested. This may seem astonishing, but it is actually entirely faithful to philosophy of the Broward school district, as expressed by Superintendent Runcie: “We are not going to continue to arrest our kids” and give them a criminal record.

He brought binocluars to school and stared at people through them.

One student had nightmares about NC, "shooting me or stabbing me...every single night. I couldn't go to school because I was afraid." These concerns along with many others were brought before administrators but nothing was done.

When he decided to revoke his ESE protections, he appeared incapable of providing written notice "perhaps due to his language-processing impairment".

When being confronted about destroying other students model bridges, NC stated, "I am not mentally stable! I am fucking crazy, yo! I love to see people in pain and I have two shotguns at my house." (As previously reported)

He'd often walk around the courtyard at lunch making "bang" motions with his fingers as though he were shooting at birds.

He called Cross Creek after his mother Lynda died and told them, "Before my mom died, I promised her I would graduate high school. I get that Cross Creek is the only place where I can do that. How do I get back in?". They didn't help him get back in.

Lynda's responses to Westglades social worker:

What is the child's problem behavior? He can't control his temper, especially when faced with frustration. He has frequent anger outburts.

How would you describe these behaviors? He starts screaming, kicking, throwing things, and punching holes in the walls.

What are the most problematic for you? "Destruction" when he throws a tantrum, things get broken, nothing is safe. I have polka dotted walls from all the Spackle I have to use to fill the holes in the walls.

How often do these behaviors occur? Every day, especially while playing Xbox.

Are there situations in which the behaviors never or rarely occur? No, if he is losing at Xbox there are no two ways about it.

What do you think needs to be done to help this child? He needs to be properly diagnosed before he can be treated. I know ADD is not the cause of all his problems. We need to know what is wrong with him.

Victims:

Anthony Borges survived after being shot 5 times by taking his shirt off, ripping it into two pieces, and using the pieces as tourniquets for his legs. Anthony had been a boy scout in Venezuela and had taken his survival training very seriously.

Aaron Feis was found deceased with burns on his hands, indicating that he managed to get a grip on the shooter's AR-15 before being fatally shot.

Cara Loughran had been shot prior to Meadow shielding her. This is why she did not flee with the other students. "Meadow had been right next to Joaquin in front of the woman's bathroom. She tried to cross the hallway, but was shot four times. She crawled to a classroom, but the door was locked (as it was supposed to be). Next to her was freshman Cara Loughran, who had also been shot. Meadow draped her body over Cara's to protect her. Five more shots went through both of their bodies."

During the shooting one of the MSD staff members stated over the radio, "It sounds like fireworks.". Aaron Feis replied, "That's not fucking fireworks".

Aaron Feis's brother Ray recalled that Feis "wasn't scared of anyone, but he would talk about that 'crazy motherfucker who threatens everyone' and shouldn't be at this school".

A survivor recalled, "But then you also heard, like, moaning from the shots. I don't know if it was, like, the shooter making that noise or if it was someone who got shot. And, but, then, that's also, you also heard...heard, like, laughing. And we all look at each other in the classroom we're just like, "Oh my God, is someone seriously laughing?" (Previously seen in witness statements)

Notable Quotes:

Royer Borges (Anthony's father) on activists blaming the NRA: "This makes no sense. You're telling me that all these groups will pour money in to a national political battle against a powerful organization over things that had no connection to what happened? And then what? Maybe the gun control people will win some changes, but what about what actually happened? What about the people responsible in Broward? What about justice?"

In the middle of his 5th grade year, Cruz's teachers had to make a choice that would define the future of his education...

“In an earlier era, a student like Cruz could continue to receive specialized attention in a self-contained classroom for students with similar disabilities for at least part of each day in Middle School. However, between the pressure on schools to assess students using standardized tests under the federal No Child Left Behind Act and the pressure on schools to put students in the "least restrictive environment" possible under the federal Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, spending part of the day in a specialized classroom was no longer an option for a student like Cruz in a Broward middle school. It was either full "inclusion" at Westglades Middle School or full "exclusion" at a specialized school for students with emotional and behavioral disabilities: Cross Creek."

"...social justice activist groups frame this issue as a black and white question of "civil rights". Putting students like Cruz in schools like Cross Creek is alleged to be "ableist" (discrimination against the disabled) and keeping them in schools like Westglades is the self-evidently virtuous practice of "inclusion".

When Westglades staff heard that Cruz had committed the massacre at MSD, some couldn't believe it. The fact that he became a mass murderer wasn't what surprised them. They were surprised that he attacked MSD. "How is that possible?" one Westglades educator recalled thinking....

"We did our jobs. It took forever, but we got him where he needed to go. We couldn't believe they ever let him into MSD."

"Cross Creek is one of 3 specialized schools in Broward for students with extreme behavioral disabilities. It serves about 150 students in grades k-12, most of whom have been diagnosed with mental illnesses and take psychotropic medications. It has a two-to-one student-to-adult ratio, including eleven counselors, fifteen behavior technicians, and three therapists. There was NO question this was where Nikolas Cruz needed to be. The question must be answered. How was he sent back to a normal school?"

"Officers from other departments told us that, if they received this many calls about the same juvenile, they would watch him like a hawk and not be shy about making an arrest. But if Sheriff Israel judged his success by how well he kept juveniles out of jail, then up until February 14th, 2018, Nikolas Cruz was perhaps the most striking success."

"Martinez respected the March For Our Lives gun control students, but he had mixed feelings about the course of public debate after the shooting. Reflecting on how Sheriff Israel and Superintendent Runcie blamed the NRA, Martinez lamented, “What the students don’t know is that the people who are telling them to go out and protest are the ones that are endangering them.… They’re the ones who failed. These failed policies failed students miserably. Then they deflect the whole event and try to build their political careers on top of it. The students are being misled.”

“I’ve been over every inch of what happened. The NRA had nothing to do with it...

This happened in a Democrat county with a Democrat sheriff, a Democrat superintendent, and a Democrat school board, implementing Democrat ideas on criminal justice, Democrat ideas on special education, and Democrat ideas on school discipline. And after Democrat voters gave all these Democrats a resounding vote of confidence in the school board election, the Democrat teachers union president, Anna Fusco, wrote in a Facebook group about our campaign for accountability: “Now you can all shut up!”....Meanwhile, at the national level, Democrat organizers swooped in and weaponized my daughter’s murder for their Democrat agenda and to fund-raise to elect more Democrats.”

"It is astonishing that 18-1958 only took seventeen lives that day. The death toll could easily have been 170. He had ten minutes alone with eight hundred children. The only one who stopped him was himself."

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 6 years

Text

House Rules

Part 9

So Flu realized quick that he wasn't getting into her room and immediately started his back up plan setting up his cameras. He's practiced that's why he was so quick.. Erik, like all y'all wants blood. Y/N is still at Erik's house and that's where we are. Also, I'm trying something new. Tagging in the replies so bare with me. Didn't work out.

Warnings: Graphic violence ahead.

Part 10: Killmonger

Swift tagged along with Rell and Erik and they rolled pass Flu's identified apartment. According to the activity lifted from his phone's GPS signal, he was on the move and fast which meant he'd gotten Erik's clear threat. They followed his trail to the bank where they found him waiting behind a red truck in a grey Mitsubishi RVR at the ATM's drive thru.

"He's trying to run," Rell mumbled, eyes fixed on Flu in his vehicle. Neither of them were letting that happen.

"What a dumbass. He doesn't know we can track this. Nigga.. we see you," Swift scoffed parking the car. Any use of his credit card or phone they'd automatically see. Any call he made, they'd hear. Erik had Flu's bank account numbers, social security number, address, emails, messages.. and he planned to wire all the nigga's money to an account for the three of them to split evenly. After all, he wouldn't be needing it anymore. Just then, the red truck left and it was Flu's turn at the ATM.

"I'm going," Erik said sliding his gun into the band of his shorts. Cautious not to be spotted in Flu's rearview mirrors he crept casually but quickly to the SUV. Flu's window was down and the doors were unlocked as he leaned from the car to get closer to the kiosk. To Erik's joy, this allowed him to open the door quickly and slide into the passenger seat, aiming his gun smoothly at Flu's side. His face immediately snapped to the right, eyes widening in fearful recognition.

"Drive away," Erik commanded in a voice that was low but firm. Flu's hesitation made Erik press the cold metal barrel into his side ready to blow his kidney, sure that on camera it'd look like they were sitting there casually. Erik laughed quietly watching Flu's fear intensify. For all this nigga knew he was absolutely crazy, but Erik knew exactly what he was doing.

"Nigga, I'll shoot yo ugly ass right here if I have to and watch you bleed out. I said, Drive. Off." The smile on Erik's face never touched his dark eyes as the car rolled forward and made a turn pass a McDonald's before hopping on the main street.

"Drive home."

Erik's face turned to stone and the nigga was damn near shaking, nervously trying to catch the eye of any driver he passed. He was about as subtle as the bulky ass coat hook he put in Y/N's bathroom and still failed to draw the necessary attention.

"Gimme the phone." Erik snatched and pocketed the device, grabbing the keys before hopping out.

"Why don't you show me how you live, Shy'Dell." Erik jutted his chin toward the building and Flu shook his head regretfully, recognizing the familiar line he'd used on Y/N.

"I'm good." He averted his eyes like he had a choice and Erik had to remind himself that he was a professional. No, he couldn't shoot this nigga in broad daylight in front of the building. That'd be sloppy and anticlimactic.

"Walk yo stupid ass in the building," Erik bit back, palming the gun in his waistband. They took the elevator which rose slowly, Erik's narrowed eyes never leaving Flu and Flu's eyes looking anywhere but at Erik. Then in the hall, Flu turned.. his hands raised in a peace offering.

"Look man.. Your girl?.. I don't even have anything on her. I ain't touch her. Nothi--"

"Nigga. Keep walking," Erik snapped, his lip twisting in disgust. He waited for Flu to turn and walk to the apartment on his own and Flu pulled out his house key, missing the keyhole on the first couple attempts due to the fact that his hands were shaking. His eyes darted to the staircase, but Erik silently dared him to attempt outrunning a bullet. With a finger on his trigger, Erik followed him inside ready for anything to pop off. There wasn't much there in terms of furniture.

"Sit," Erik waved his gun to one of the few folding chairs that sat in the nearly empty living room. The only other objects in the room were a tv and an air mattress, dicey as hell. "Where's your second location? This ain't it."

"My what? I don--"

"If you like your brain inside your skull you'll speak the fuck up." Flu looked to be genuinely clueless and Erik was amazed. If he didn't already know this nigga was a bold liar, he may have believed him.

"Keep this up, your mama finna get a copy of every video you ever made."

"This all I have man I swear on my mama I don't have anything else!"

Erik sneered. Disrespectful ass nigga. Suddenly, his phone rang.

"We're over at the second apartment, I'm going through his shit now." Swift was in.

"The fuck?! Oh hell nah this nigga crazy as hell." Rell wasn't squeamish so it had to be some bullshit.

"This sick bastard, so many hours of him and women, I wouldn't be surprised if.. He is. He's been selling the footage online. Kill, this shit it graphic."

"Kill his pages and delete the footage. Anything you can trace, destroy it." Flu's expression sobered and Erik knew it was in that moment Flu realized he fucked up.

"Got it. And Kill.. Wait for us. Don't start until we get there, you get messy when it's personal. Thirty minutes."

Click.

"...That wasn't my place, I swear. This is the only pl--" SHMACK! The gun whipped across Flu's cheekbone, snapping it to the right and Erik rolled his shoulders.

"I-I didn't touch that girl, I swe--" SHMACK! The gun flew across Flu's other cheek with equal strength causing him to spit blood. No one said don't fuck him up a bit. It felt good.

"You gone stand there like you ain't as bad as me? Really?! Look at you right now. If I'm a monster then it takes one to know one," Flu spat.

"Maybe," he nodded. "You gone whoop ma ass about it? Gone 'head." He squatted, putting himself in swinging distance, but the man ain't move. "Yo bitch ass specifically happened to fuck with what's mine, that's where you lost."

Flu's face twitched. He obviously ain't like feeling powerless and mocked. He took a breath as if choosing his next words carefully, blood still painting his lip. His face was swelling and it was nowhere near the pain he deserved.

"Y/N. Why her?" It was the main question on Erik's mind. In a way, he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from the source.

"Ugh,” Flu groaned, “Damn.. I don't know, I guess she seemed lonely. I was drawn to her."

"Fuck this shit," Erik mumbled pushing the barrel of the gun directly against Flu's temple.

"Look. Dammit. She was naive and easy to manipulate. Is that what you wanna hear? She was an easy bitch and it woulda been dumb not to take advantage of something like that."

"Something..," Erik scoffs recalling the countless killers he'd known to use a similar logic, himself included. It made him sick to compare himself to the monster before him. "Yeah, it's real easy to categorize a person as a something. Makes it easier to hurt 'em when you can forget that they're people with their own shit to deal with in life. That way you can convince yourself they don't matter.."

"So you a therapist now? Is that how this works? How many people you kill like this? What about their lives?"

“Oh, I leave most of the people I kill their dignity when it ain’t personal. You though? Nah.”

For the rest of the time, they remained in silence, Erik shushing Flu whenever he tried to speak. Erik ain’t wanna hear shit else the nigga had to say. Finally, the apartment door opened and Flu sat there trying his damndest to look harmless.

"You can cut the shit, Shy'Dell, you know you're not leaving here alive. You never were."

“Kill, we brought the tools,” Swift called carrying a suitcase. Rell rolled a white tarpe out over the beige carpet earning a strong stare from Flu before he made a run for the door. Before he could get a second step away, a blade flew plunging into his leg. His knee buckled and a second blade hit his other leg taking him down to the ground.

“I think all the lies you be telling got yo ass confused, thinkin I don’t mean the shit I be saying.” Erik examined the clean machete Swift removed from the suitcase. This vendetta went beyond guns. “Get ya ass up and sit in the fuckin chair,” he growled, but Flu kept crawling like a roach toward the door. He had to pick the nigga up and sit him in the chair like a child while Swift and Rell stood back, looking on expressionless.

“All ya shit is gone nigga. Ya tapes, ya cameras, ya money. You ain’t got shit. You AIN’T shit. You finna die in this fuckin hellhole and for what? Was it worth it?”

“..........Maybe,” Flu spoke in his boldest move yet.

“See it’s weirdass niggas like this, I don’t claim. This some caucasian shit,” Rell said from behind, Swift verbally agreeing.

“Can y’all like.. shut the fuck up? I’m tryna murk this muhfucka,” Erik shrugged, but high-key he agreed. After gagging Flu and taping his mouth for good measure, he commanded him to strip down butt naked.

“No wonder you gets no play,” Swift deadpanned staring at the minidick Flu was packing. It was anticlimactic, Erik wanted to make a show of cutting the nigga dick off but wasn’t much there to begin with.

“Now I know how disappointed y’all be feelin,” Erik cracked causing Swift to lose it in a snickering fit. “..But then some of y’all still fuck anyway.. so I’m a chop this muhfucka regardless.” Swift, still snickering, shook her head content to watch as the machete flew. Erik made sure the balls came off too and he was glad for the tarpe.. it was messy and Swift turned on the TV to drown out the muffled agonized screams, a slight smirk on her face. She was just as sadistic as he was when it came to sexual predators and sexual violence. To her, it was one of the worst possible crimes.. something he suspected she’d experienced personally though he’d never ask out of respect for her.

The fingers were next, cutting them off of one hand all at once then the other. By the first cut, Flu’s eyes were glued shut, thick tears streaming down his face. Erik was shocked he was still conscious. He had to laugh, the nigga did say it was worth it. Meanwhile Rell waited to collect the parts as the second set of fingers were hacked off at the top knuckle.

“That’s for touching shit that ain’t yours to touch. Something you’ll never do again,” Erik sighed.

“Beat Bobby Flay, I love this show,” Swift perked from behind catching Erik off guard, but he recovered quickly, returning his attention to Flu.

“Still worth it?” Erik eyed Flu’s greying face as the blood drained from it. He was losing a lot of blood quickly. Erik had to hurry it along. This time Flu shook his head ‘no’ and Erik poked out his bottom lip. The nigga did learn something, albeit it was too late. The legs were next. Erik cut them off cleanly at the joints, cutting them smaller at the knees, not caring if the nigga died at this point. Then the arms at the shoulder and elbow. Finally, his head. When he was satisfied with his work, he pulled the change of clothes packed for him via Swift and gave her a kiss on the cheek watching her smile spread before changing. He knew she had a slight thing for him, but she’d never speak on it and he was thankful for that, though he wouldn’t tell her.

“You check for cameras and shit,” he told her before turning to Rell who’d already started cleaning. He was fast as hell. “You need me to cut this shit up smaller?”

“Nah, smaller pieces are harder to move, that’s why I be glad when you use the guns. It’s noisier, but there’s less mess to clean.”

“My bad bruh.”

---

Erik's home is beautiful, but it can also get very dark and that's a little creepy when you're all alone. Once it gets dark out, you have to find and turn on all of the house lights. The next thing is to search and rescue your sex toys. You don't really want to snoop through the man's house because it's rude and bad form, besides he'll probably give you the full tour when he returns. However, the temptation is great considering he has something that belongs to you. You search his drawers, his closet, under his bed, and find nothing but the knowledge that he's extremely organized. The next empty bedroom yields no results either. Then there's a room that's locked and you check around but can't find the key. Knowing how extra Erik is, he probably stored your toys in there. Speak of the devil, your phone rings and it's him.

"I'm on the way, you need something from anywhere?" Yeah, you and this room key.

"Nope, just come on back," you gesture though he can't see you.

"Aight. You okay?"

For some reason that question hit hard. The genuine consideration and care in his voice, it melts something in you, making your chest heat.

"Yeah.. I'm okay.. Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine, angelcakes."

There it goes again, that heat radiating through your body, forming a line of hot energy connecting your thumping heart to your jumping vagina.

"You need me to stay on the line," he asks when you don't hang up and you want to say yes, but you also don't want to worry him to make him think you're afraid. You're anxious, sure, but not really afraid.

"Um, nah I'll see you when you get back," you say before hanging up. It's strange how it feels like you're waiting for him as if he's your black and white TV husband, the Ricky to your Lucy. You return to your room and change from the towel into blue jersey shorts and a grey t-shirt, something to sleep in, before heading back down the stairs to explore a bit more. Amazingly, you stumble upon an outdoor pool that's on the back deck. If you'd known this was here, you'd have certainly been chilling out here all day. But maybe you'll have tomorrow to take a dip after work.. That is, if you don't have to go back home tomorrow.

It's only about fifteen minutes later when Erik pulls up and you're curled on the couch, doing some online reading. The key in the door steals your attention and you're anticipating his return a little too eagerly. Calm down weirdo, you tell yourself before the door swings open. He's changed his clothes. Does that mean he went to another pussy appointment before he came back? Not that it's unlike him, but that's still pretty damn cold if he did that today when he was supposed to be checking your apartment. He follows your eyes down to his clothes and immediately rolls his eyes.

"I always carry spare clothes just in case I make a mess and I made a mess today... not from fuckin. Damn, you think I'm that bad?"

"I mean, I didn't say anything to you, but I hoped you weren't."

"You thought it.. and I'm not. I wouldn't do that shit, not when your safety is on the line. You need a better perception of me."

"Maybe.. So how was it, is it safe to go back?"

"Nah, I called some professionals to check it out and they found a bunch of cameras and shit," he says dropping his keys on the table and taking a seat next to you on the couch where he stretches out. "They're gonna take a while to fully remove, you know how it go. You might have to stay here a bit longer until they're all located and gone. Few days maybe.. Hope that's okay."

"Cameras? Wow, I mean... As long as they're removed. How much did they ask for?"

"Don't worry about that, it's on me. Part of my duty in taking care of you."

Taking care of me. Yeah that's exactly what he's been doing isn't it. It's so strange how this arrangement just happened to come about, like destiny if you believe in such a thing.

"..I really do hate that guy, Flu. I don't get how someone could be that sick and evil," you shake your head sitting down your phone and Erik adjusts, pulling your shoulders so your head falls against his chest, his palm cradling your head. Your eyes close and instantly you're calm enough to drift off into a deep sleep.

"Don't worry about him. He's a dumbass and random selection will take care of him. You just rest now."

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