#spencer x elodie price | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eydika · 4 years

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eydika’s name list 2.0

more... names because the first name list I made isn’t enough anymore

Abaddon

Abbey / Abbie

Abel

Ace

Ada

Adam

Adrien

Agnes

Aiden

Akari

Alaska

Alchemy

Alec / Alex / Alexa

Alessi / Alessia

Alexis

Aliana / Alianna

Alice

Alison

Alistair

Alivia

Allie / Ally

Alpha

Alya

Amber

Amelia

Amity

Amos

Amy

Andie / Andy

Andrew

Andromeda

Angel

Anita

Anna / Anne

Annabelle / Annie

Apollo

Apple

Apricot

April

Archer / Archie

Arden

Ares

Argus

Ariel

Aron / Aaron / Auron

Arrow

Artemis

Arthur

Artis

Arya

Ash / Asher

Aspen / Aspyn

Astrid

Athena

Atlas

Atticus

Aubrey / Audrey

Audio

Auger

Auggie

August

Aurelia

Aurora

Austin

Autumn

Ava / Avaline / Avalon / Aveline

Avery / Avrey

Aya

Baby

Barbie

Basil

Bea / Bee

Bean

Beatrice / Beatriz

Bébé

Beck / Beckett

Beetle

Bella / Belle

Beryl

Betty

Bijou

Billie

Birdie

Bishop

Bitter

Blair / Blaire

Blaise

Bloom

Blue / Blu

Boheme

Bonnie

Bowie

Briar

Bridget

Brina

Brody

Bryson

Bunny

Byron

Cade / Cadea / Caden

Cairo

Cal / Calum

Caleb

Callie

Calliope

Calvin

Cameron

Candace

Canopy

Carly / Carlie

Carol / Caroline

Carter

Casper

Cassandra

Cassius

Catherine

Celia

Cetus

Chance

Charlotte

Cherry

China

Chip

Chloe

Cian

Cinnamon

Civet

Clara / Clary / Clarabelle

Claire

Clementine

Cleo

Clover

Cobalt

Colby

Colt / Colten

Constance

Cooper

Cora

Corey

Corvus

Cosmo

Cricket

Cynthia

Cyra

Cyrus

Dacre

Daisy

Dakota

Dalia

Dallas

Damien

Dana

Dandelion

Dandy

Dante

Daphne

Darby / Darcy

Darius

Darla

Davina / Divina

Davos

Dawn

Deacon

Deb

December

Deja

Delaney

Delta

Demi

Denim

Denver

Desmond

Dexter

Diego

Digit

Dion / Dior

Doe

Domino

Donna

Doran

Dorothy / Dot / Dottie

Douglas

Dune

Dusk

Dylan

Eachan

Ebele

Ebony

Echo

Eden

Edris

Effi / Effie

Egan

Elijah

Eliza

Ella / Ellie

Elliot

Ellis

Elodie

Elsbeth / Elspeth

Elsie

Elyse

Embla

Emily

Emlyn

Emma

Emmett

Emory

Erica

Erin

Ernest

Ernie

Esryn

Estelle

Ethan

Eugene

Eva / Eve / Evie

Evan

Evangeline

Fae / Fee

Faith

Fawn

Fawke

Felix

Fenris

Fergus

Ferris

Fig / Figgy

Finbar

Fizz

Fletcher

Fleur

Flint

Flora / Florence

Forrest

Fox

Frankie

Freya

Gage

Gaia

Gavin

Gemma

Gene / Genesis / Genevieve

Gigi

Gil

Giselle

Gladys

Gloom

Gloria / Glory

Goldie

Grace / Gracie

Greta

Griffin

Gus

Hadley

Hailey

Hana

Harlow

Harmony

Harper

Hawk

Hayden

Hazel

Hector

Henley

Henry

Hera / Hero

Honey / Honeydew

Hope

Hunter

Ian / Ion

Idris

Ieni

Iesha

Illori

Ilya

Imelda

Imogen

Imp

India

Indira

Ingrid

Irina

Iris

Isaac

Isara

Isla

Ivory / Ivy

Izzy

Jack / Jackie

Jade

Jake

Janice / Janis

Jason

Jasper

Jay / Joy

Jenan

Jericho

Jerry

Jibo

Jill

Jinx

Joan

Jude / Judith

Juleka

Juli / Julip

June / Juno

Juniper

Jupiter

Justice

Kaiven

Kale

Kappa

Kayla

Kellen

Kelly

Kes

Kimber

Kitana

Kitty

Kiwi

Knox

Kris

Kristy / Kirsty

Krull

Kumo

Laken

Lana

Lapse

Lark

Laurel

Lavender

Lemon

Lenka

Leo / Leon / Leonie

Levitt

Liberty

Lilac

Lilith

Lima

Lindsey

Locus / Lotus

Lottie

Luca / Luka

Lucia / Lucie / Lucy

Lucille

Lucky

Luis

Luna / Louna

Luther

Lux

Lynn

Mabel / Mable / Maple

Madison

Mae / May

Maeve

Magnolia

Mango

Mantis

March

Marcia / Marcy

Margaux / Margo / Margot

Marina

Marion

Marley

Marmalade

Mars

Martha

Mary

Mason

Maude

Maura

Maxine

Maya

Meadow

Medea

Melancholia

Melba

Memphis

Mercedes

Mercy

Mick

Milan

Milla

Millenia

Milo

Mina / Mona

Minerva

Minnie

Minnow

Miron

Misery

Mona

Monday

Montgomery

Monty

Morrigan

Morwenna

Myrtle

Nana

Nancy

Nasira

Nate

Nathaniel

Naveed

Navy

Ned

Nefarian

Ness

Nestor

Never

Newt

Nikki

Noah

Nora

Norma

Nova

Nutmeg

Nye

Nyx

Octa

October

Odessa

Olive / Olivia

Ollie

Omega

Omen

Onyx

Opal

Ophelia

Oriana / Orion

Oscar / Oskar

Otis

Owen

Ozzy / Ozzie

Paige

Paisley

Parker

Pat / Pattie

Paula / Paola

Pea / Peach

Pebble

Penelope

Pepper

Pepsi

Percy

Petrichor

Philippa

Philomena

Phoebe

Phoenix

Piccolo

Pip / Piper

Pixie

Poe

Pollux

Pomeline

Poppy

Portia

Primrose

Queen

Quentin

Quibble

Quincy

Quinn

Rachel

Radian

Ransom

Raven

Ray

Razzia

Rebus / Remus

Reverie

Rhubarb

Rick

Rider / Ryder

Rigby

Rilla

Roach

Robin

Rory

Rosa / Rosalie

Rose

Roux

Rowan

Roxanne / Roxie / Roxy

Ruben

Ruby

Rune

Sabina / Sabine / Sabrina

Sable

Sadie

Saffron

Sage / Saige

Salem

Sam / Samantha / Sammie

Savant

Savian

Scarlett

Scotty

Scout

Sean

Sesame

Shea

Skye / Skylar

Sloane

Solomon

Spencer

Sprout

Star

Stella

Sunny

Sybil

Syc

Symphony

Tabea

Tabitha / Tabs

Tali / Talia

Tasha

Tate

Tau

Temper

Tharan

Theodora / Theodosia

Theros

Thimble

Thirteen

Thorn

Tia

Tilda

Tina

Topaz

Tora / Torian

Trinity

Trixie

Trope

Tulip

Turnip

Twig

Ukiyo

Umara

Umbra

Ursa

Valentin

Valerie

Valora

Vargas

Vaughn

Vector

Vega / Vegas

Velvet

Venus

Vera

Vernon

Vesper

Vinette

Violet

Vivek

Volt

Waverly

Wednesday

Wendy

Wes

Whisper

William

Willow

Winnie

Winona

Winter

Wish

Wren

X + Y + Z

Xena / Xenia

Xeno / Xenos

Yuki

Yuri

Zafira

Zaria

Zephyr

Zero

Zoe / Zoelle

Zona

Zyra

LAST NAMES

Abbot

Abernathy

Alton

Arcanum

Ashe

Astor

Badger

Balker

Bass

Bennett

Benton

Blake

Bleu

Blunt

Blythe

Cable

Cabot

Cain

Carter

Carver

Castillo

Choi

Clemonte

Coldwell

Collins

Colt

Craft

Craven

Crimson

Croft

Dabney

Danvers

Dayholt

Delpy

Driver

Dyer

Eades

Edge

Epithet

Epps

Evert

Farley

Fell

Fenner

Fig

Finch

Findlay

Fletcher

Foley

Fowler

Fray

Freud

Frost

Geller

Gill

Guest

Hale

Hapley

Harp

Hart

Hearst

Hooper

Hunt

Hyde

Ivy

Jinx

Keller

Kersey

Kingsley

Knight

Knox

Kraft

Krav

Laveau

Lecter

Lock / Lockwood

Lowell

Lush

Marr

Mills

Mist

Morgan

Morrison

Murray

Myers

Oaks

Patel

Pierce

Pike

Powell

Price

Pruitt

Quint

Quiver

Random

Ripley

Ryder

Sears

Sloane

Sparks

Stele

Strom

Sutton

Talbot

Tate

Thorne

Twig

Twist

Tycho

Utley

Valentine

Vance

Vaughn

Vos

Walker

Wallow

Weaver

Webb

Wiley

Wilkes

Winston

Wreath

Wright

Wrong

York

Zella

Zepeda

#text #list #names #reference #inspo

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dokruk-blog · 7 years

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designer2017fashion-blog · 7 years

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keanureevesisbae · 11 months

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 03. kiss in the rain

Spencer Reid x Elodie Price (asian/pacific islander/moluccan OFC)

Summary: Elodie's birthday is coming up!

Serie warnings: Mention of murder, blood. Mention of rape (not described). Eventual smut.

Chapter warnings: Mention of nightmares, of Rowan Rancher.

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist // Beyond Words Masterlist

When I fall in love, it will be forever - Jane Austen

■□■□■□■□■□■

Her

I made the mistake of suggesting an audio tourguide when we stepped foot into this museum. We as in Spencer and I. After exchanging phone numbers and that call before I fell asleep, we’ve been consistently calling. Even when he has a case. He puts his phone in his front pocket and starts rambling, even when he’s talking to others. And ever since we do that, ever since his voice is the last one I hear before I fall asleep, I don’t have nightmares.

Because I don’t have an eidetic memory like he does, I barely remember a word he said when we were in the museum, looking at different paintings. All I remember was the smile on my face, was the lingering of my eyes on his tall and lanky physique and how he’s so passionate about anything really, expressively talking with his hands.

The two of us are now sitting at the cafe close to the museum. Him with an americano (and not only poured his own sugar packet in it, but also mine), me with a cappuccino.

‘Why do you have tattoos?’ Spencer asks.

I stare at the dots on my hand. I wonder if he knows how many tattoos I’m hiding underneath my clothes. I’ve got a lot of them. On my arms, my legs, my back, underneath my breasts.

‘My father hated them,’ I say, ‘so when I was eighteen, the first thing I did was scheduling a tattoo appointment, so I could get inked. Whenever dad—‘ I realize quickly I’m outside. Talking about Rowan Rancher as my father could possibly fall onto the wrong ears. ‘Whenever he dated a woman prior to you know, he always checked whether or not she had tattoos.’

‘If she did, was it worse?’

I nod. ‘If she did, they found her. If she didn’t, I helped them find her.’

Spencer takes a sip of his coffee. With zero tact—and I absolutely think it’s adorable—he says: ‘Your birthday is in three days.’

‘True.’

‘What is the perfect way for you to spend your birthday?’

‘Honestly, I just want to browse for hours on end at Barnes and Nobles, no rush, just me and books. That’s all.’

‘Do you have anything to do in three days?’ Spencer asks. ‘I could take you to Barnes and Nobles. I find it soothing to spend my time around books too. Besides, I have to buy this newest book about quantum physics and corpus linguistics and hopefully I can find it there.’

I offer him a smile. ‘Do you want to spend your day with me, Spencer?’ I ask.

‘It’s your birthday,’ he states. ‘I…’ I watch how he fidgets with his hands, tension in each of his fingers. ‘I know how it is to spend your birthdays alone. I don’t want you to spend it alone.’

Thank the stars for russet brown skin, because I would’ve been a blushing mess if I favored my father with his paler skin and blue eyes. I run my fingers through my black hair and say: ‘I’d like to spend my birthday with you. Especially in Barnes and Nobles.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Them

‘Reid,’ Garcia says, almost dragging Spencer out of his thoughts and concentration. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m trying to create an understandable map of the local Barnes and Nobles.’

‘For yourself?’ Prentiss asks, rolling her desk chair over to Spencer’s desk. ‘I thought you had an eidetic memory and know your way around.’

‘I do have an eidetic memory,’ he states, ‘however I am taking Elodie to Barnes and Nobles for her birthday and because she has never been there before, I want to make sure the experience isn’t too overwhelming for her.’

‘Elodie?’ Prentiss asks, her eyes widening in intrigue. ‘As in Elodie Price?’

‘Yes.’

Morgan joins them and says: ‘Pretty boy has taken a liking in Elodie. They call every night before she goes to sleep.’

‘Usually we call at nine o’clock and ninety five percent of the time, she’s asleep at nine forty five,’ Spencer says, thinking back about the times where he doesn’t hear her hums, but instead hears soft snores. He goes back to creating the map again and Garcia ruffles his hairs.

‘You’re so sweet when you’re in love with someone,’ she says. ‘Elodie sure is a lucky girl.’

‘Why do you like her so much?’ Prentiss asks curiously.

‘She’s intriguing,’ Spencer answers, continuing using the ruler to draw a straight line. ‘You know that whenever she talks, I feel like I never want to press pause. I just want to absorb every syllable.’ He looks up with a smile—a very telling one—and whispers: ‘And whenever I look at her, I don’t want to look away.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Her

Thankfully Spencer saved the happy birthday serenade for when he picked me up from my place, holding two cupcakes in his hands, one with a two and the other with a six. Once we’re in front of the Barnes and Nobles, he gives me a piece of paper. ‘What is it?’ I ask, folding it open. ‘A map?’

‘I created a map for you, since you told me you haven’t been to this Barnes and Nobles.’

Sometimes it’s hard not to smother this man with hugs.

The two of us make our way into the promised land, surrounded by books. Spencer follows me like a little duckling, though I think he knows better than anyone what’s the best route. Instead of berating me for taking a massive detour—it’s that massive I noticed it myself—he gives me all the precise measurements of this building.

We stop near the romance section and I fold the map, putting it into my pocket, before I look at the spines and all the beautiful book covers.

‘Romance novels generate over one point forty four billion dollars in revenue, making romance the highest earning genre of fiction,’ Spencer says. ‘Have you read Fifty Shades of Grey?’

I shake my head. ‘No, why would I?’

‘It’s the Best-Selling romance novel of all time,’ he answers. ‘Sold over one hundred fifty million copies, surpassing Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen with a good thirty million copies.’

‘I haven’t read Pride and Prejudice either,’ I say. ‘Though it’s a classic.’

Spencer nods. ‘Do you have a colleague degree, Elodie? Because approximately forty five percent of the romance readers have a college degree.’

It’s an odd way of conversing, sure, but I’m always curious to see what he’s gonna say next.

‘I’ve studied English in college,’ I say, ‘so yeah, I’ve got a degree.’

While Spencer provides me with tons of other facts about the building, the romance genre and certain authors, I put more and more books into my basket. Eventually we go towards his section of preferred books, with the help of the map. I watch him rhythmically pointing towards the bookshelves, almost like a conductor in front of an orchestra. While I am going to buy seven books, he is going to buy two he came for.

However, once we’re near the check out, he grabs my shopping basket from me and says: ‘Happy birthday, Elodie.’

It takes me a good five seconds before I catch up. ‘No,’ I say, trying to grab the basket from him. ‘No, no, no, you’re not gonna pay for my books.’

‘It’s your birthday,’ he says, ‘of course I am gonna pay for the books. That is my gift to you.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

We end up at my apartment and together we stare out of the window, watching the rain pour from the dark sky. ‘I love the rain,’ I admit.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. It gives off something cosy. Don’t you think?’

Spencer nods, standing behind me as he takes in the rain. I hear his fingers tapping on the phone and not long afterwards, his footsteps walk away from me. I look over my shoulder, when I see him putting on his coat, before grabbing mine.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask.

‘According to many romance movies and novels, the rain is considered highly romantic.’ He places my coat on my shoulders, before he tugs my hand.

‘Spencer, what are we doing?’

‘We’re going out in the rain,’ he tells me matter of factly. ‘Considering your favorite genre is romance, I think you deserve a romantic moment on your birthday.’

His fingers laced through mine and together we walk towards the exit. The raindrops fall on my head and my skin and I let out a juvenile squeal, delighted to be outside. I spread my arms and turn my face to the sky, closing my eyes, enjoying every single second of it.

‘Elodie.’

My eyes meet Spencer’s, before we offer each other a smile. Shit, I could look at his gorgeous face for eternity and never ever be tired of it. ‘Yes, Spencer?’

‘Have you ever kissed someone?’

I nod. ‘Yeah, when I was younger. Why?’

‘Do you want me to kiss you?’

I’ve been yearning for a true kiss from you ever since you stepped foot into my life, Spencer Reid. Yes, I want you to kiss me and once you start, I don’t want you to stop. Instead of spilling those words, I simply nod.

Spencer’s hair is stuck to his face and with a brute gesture, he pushes the locks from his face, before his large hands cup my face. He bridges the distance between us. His lips clash on mine and while it definitely could use some work, I take him in with everything I’ve got. His lips, his scent, his touch. I cling onto his jacket, parting my lips.

‘Happy birthday, Elodie,’ he whispers against me.

I don’t want to let go. Not yet at least. I want to savor this moment. Savor the moment of him kissing me, of me having a normal birthday for the first time since I can remember. My body curves towards his, as we kiss again.

■□■□■□■□■□■

Them

The elevator is crowded. Rossi, Morgan, JJ and Prentiss all join Spencer in the small and confined space. ‘How was Elodie’s birthday?’ Prentiss asks.

‘It was fun, after I gave her her birthday cupcake, we went to the bookstore, had a coffee and then went back to her place. We then spend some time in the rain.’

‘The rain?’ JJ lets out a low whistle. ‘Romantic.’

‘You know what I always want to do at least once in my life?’ Prentiss asks. ‘Kiss in the rain.’ She lets out a deep sigh, while staring lovingly ahead of her.

‘Elodie and I kissed in the rain.’

Everyone in the elevator simultaneously turns around and looks at Spencer. ‘You did what?’ JJ asks.

‘So unfair, you kissed in the rain?’ Prentiss whines.

Rossi pats him on the shoulder, while Morgan starts to laugh and say: ‘I knew something was different about you, kid.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Beyond Words Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @beenthroughalot // @chickensarentcheap //

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid x asian ofc #spencer x elodie price #asian ofc #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #beyond words #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic

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keanureevesisbae · 11 months

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 02. the mattress

Spencer Reid x Elodie Price (asian/pacific islander/moluccan OFC)

Summary: Weeks have gone by and Elodie bumps into a certain someone at a cafe.

Serie warnings: Mention of murder, blood. Mention of rape (not described). Eventual smut.

Chapter warnings: Nightmares, monsters under the bed, stuff like that.

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist // Beyond Words Masterlist

The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep - E. Joseph Cossman

■□■□■□■□■□■

Her

Rowan Rancher has been incarcerated for up to three weeks now and in those three weeks my nightmares have become more frequent. More daunting. Everywhere I go, I suspect he’s there. Rowan Rancher watching me, but according to mister Rossi—who does daily check ins again, almost like I’m seventeen still—he’s incarcerated and will remain incarcerated.

I don’t have to worry about him.

With a book in tow, I settle down at the cafe. Not the Starbucks, because I solely use that place for coffee to go. This is the place I go to for some reading. It’s never too loud here, yet there is enough background noise for me to realize I’m not alone.

‘The name cappuccino comes from the Capuchin friars.’

That can only be one person. I smile when I look up and see it’s Spencer, wearing a sweater vest over a blouse, his bag pressed against his stomach while his fingers are wrapped around the strap. For a second or two I’m staring at the veins in his hands, the long fingers and the disgusting scenarios that creates in my brain.

I’ve been reading too much smut lately.

‘Hi there,’ I say. ‘Did you order a cappuccino too?’

‘No, I personally drink my coffee as an americano.’ He doesn’t ask if he can sit down with me. Instead, he just plops down, placing his bag near his feet. ’The drink consists of a single shot of espresso brewed with added water. Caffè Americano specifically is Italian for American coffee. According to a popular belief, the name has its origins in World War II, when American G.I.s in Italy diluted espresso with hot water to approximate the coffee to which they were accustomed to back in the USA.’

‘Hence the name Americano.’

‘Exactly.’ The smile on Spencer’s face causes me to mimic him. His enthusiasm is so infectious. When I spend my days at Quantico for the manhunt of my father, the moments where he rambled on, info dumping whenever he could made the time there bearable.

I am grateful that Spencer was able to look passed me being Elodie Rowan Rancher. He just saw me as Elodie.

‘What brings you here?’

‘It’s my day off,’ Spencer tells me, ‘and I was actually planning on watching a new documentary at the movie theater. It’s about the influence of trade interactions on the cultures of Ancient Greece and Ancient Egypt.’

‘I see,’ I say. ‘Sounds,’—horrendously dull—‘interesting.’

‘We could see the movie together. It’s said that they use Ancient Greek for certain texts, however I can translate that for you.’

Who has the heart to say no to something so endearing? I honestly would rather gauge my eyes out, than going to that documentary voluntarily, however spending time with the Spencer Reid?

’When does it play?’

‘In three hours and four minutes.’

‘So… I can finish my cappuccino?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact—’

‘One americano,’ the barista interrupts us with a smile, ‘for the doctor.’

‘Thank you.’ He grabs the little packet of sugar, before he empties it completely in the americano. I place mine on his tray as well and with a gracious smile he empties that one too. ‘When Rossi and I came by your house, you said you listened to my seminars. Why?’

‘They help me sleep,’ I say. ‘There’s something about the way you talk that’s soothing. It’s not that you’re boring me, but… There something in the speed and tone that calms my brain and my nerves.’

Spencer takes in the information I provided him with. ‘Nightmares?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ve got them too.’

And he’s telling the truth.

Spencer takes a sip of his coffee and I lean back in the chair. ‘Is that why you have a mattress instead of a bed frame?’

For a few moments I want to be gobsmacked, because how did he know, however I realize he’s a profiler. He saw right over my tiny frame when I invited them in my house.

‘Yeah.’

He wants to say something, but his phone chimes and he looks at the screen. ‘I’ve gotta go.’ He takes two large sips of his coffee and says: ‘We have a case.’

‘Okay.’

He rummages through his bag and places a neat little card in front of me on the table. ’This is my phone number. If you ever want to call, don’t hesitate to dial the number.’

‘Oh,’ I say, ‘that’s sweet.’

‘If my seminars help you sleep,’ he continues, ‘I can provide you with tons of other information, maybe things that are more up your alley.’

It’s so incredibly sweet, my heart swells twice its size. ‘I’ll keep it in mind, Spencer. Thank you.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Them

‘Pretty boy,’ Derek says, causing Spencer to look up from his phone as they make their way to the precinct in New York City, ‘what is it that has gotten your attention?’

Spencer pushes the little device back in his pocket and says: ‘Nothing.’

‘Don’t lie to me.’

‘It’s not a lie. Nothing happens on my phone and that has gotten my attention,’ Spencer says. He opens his mouth, but Derek is faster.

‘Is it a girl?’

Sometimes he detests working with profilers. ‘Yes.’

‘Who is it? Where did you meet her?’

‘It’s Elodie. I gave her my number back in the cafe this morning.’

‘Elodie? The daughter of Rancher?’ Derek nods, taking in the information Spencer’s providing him with. ‘You like her?’

‘I’ve possibly taken an interest in her.’

Derek chuckles. ‘Look at that, genius got a crush.’

‘Not necessarily a crush, it’s more of a—’ Spencer starts, however Derek already speeds up and makes his way into the police office.

■□■□■□■□■□■

Her

Me: Can I give you a call? Elodie

Two whole minutes have passed by, before his name appears on my screen. Spencer Reid. A whole day and afternoon has gone by since he gave me his number and because I knew he was going to work on a case, I decided to withhold myself from immediately calling.

I pick up. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ His tone is soothing, soft in almost a marshmallow way.

‘Where are you?’

‘On the jet,’ he says. ‘We solved the case.’ Before I can ask how it went, he asks: ‘How are you?’

‘I can’t sleep.’

‘It’s nine where you are, correct?’

I feel like he knows exactly what time it is here and for the rest of the world for that matter, but formulates it like a question for me. ‘Correct.’

‘Why can’t you sleep?’ Spencer asks.

‘That just happens. Some nights I can, some nights I can’t.’ We don’t exchange a word for approximately five seconds, before I say: ‘It was my father’s idea. Mattresses on the floor instead of bed frames.’

‘How so?’

‘When my mom left, I was always afraid. When she was still with me, she’d sleep in my bed, protect me from the monsters, but then she wasn’t there and to me it felt like there was a hotbed underneath me for monsters. Finally, I told my father about it and… That night he slept in my bed and the next morning he broke apart all our bed frames, threw them out and said we only need mattresses anyway.’

‘I see,’ Spencer says. ‘And now you can’t sleep in a bed with a bed frame.’

‘Exactly. It’s irrational, I know. I’m twenty five, I should be able to sleep in a bed, like a true adult.’

‘Or,’ he says, ‘you can sleep in a bed with a bed frame when you’re not alone. Your mind has linked sleeping next to someone else to safety and considering you live by yourself and I assume sleep by yourself, you fall back to something you knew kept you safe when you were a child, even if you do it unknowingly. Because you listen to seminars to fall asleep, you create almost a false security that someone is there with you.’

I smile. ‘I guess I do.’

‘Do you feel safe now, Elodie?’

I close my eyes, only to see complete darkness. No bodies, no blood, no screams, no hushed whispers of my father telling me to just do it. To just mark them. It’s just peace and quiet. Just me and him. ‘Yes, Spencer,’ I whisper. ‘I feel safe now.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Beyond Words Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @beenthroughalot // @chickensarentcheap //

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keanureevesisbae · 11 months

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 01. jailbreak

Spencer Reid x Elodie Price (asian/pacific islander/moluccan OFC)

Summary: When serial killer Rowan Rancher escaped from prison, it's up to the BAU to not only find him, but also his daughter.

Serie warnings: Mention of murder, blood. Mention of rape (not described). Eventual smut.

Chapter warnings: Mention of murder and blood. Indirect mention of rape. Just a murderer in general already.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: So, believe it or not, but I am not a genius 🤷🏽‍♀️ So everything Spencer says is either literally copy paste from Wikipedia or I attempted to do math and calculate shit myself. So I hope you like 😘

Masterlist // Beyond Words Masterlist

Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were - Marcel Proust

■□■□■□■□■□■

Them

‘We’ve got a situation,’ agent Aaron Hotchner, unit chief of the Quantico’s Behavioral Analysis unit, says to his team, as they’ve all gathered for this case. ‘Rowan Rancher has escaped the prison facility in Texas.’

‘Rowan Rancher murdered twenty four women aged twenty seven to forty one—that we know of—over the course of seven years. His preference was for brunettes with blue eyes, which is a clear resemblance of his mother Megan Rancher. However, victim number twenty five was a man named Wendall Regal. It was actually the first murder he confessed after he was arrested and it was the only murder he didn’t deny.’ Spencer Reid’s eyes go through the file, absorbing the information he practically knew by heart already. ‘Rowan Rancher had a daughter. Rossi, weren’t you the one who interrogated her?’

SSA David Rossi leans back in his chair, looking at one of the pictures in the files. It was a graduation picture of Elodie Rancher, the daughter of Rowan Rancher. ‘I was,’ he answers. ‘She led us to the fifteen burial sites.’

Rossi remembers the pain and hurt he saw in the eyes of Elodie, a fragile seventeen year old, completely damaged by her serial killer father. Because Rowan and Elodie traveled a lot, the burial sites were scattered over the country. Some in Nevada, others in California, a few in Florida, one in Hawaii, more in Maine and the remaining ones in the Washington state, where Rancher finally was caught.

‘I helped her with a new identity,’ Rossi continues, ‘gave her a bit of a boost to start her life. Therapy, more counseling and eventually she stopped updating me I assumed it went well.’

‘Elodie Rancher now goes by Elodie Price,’ tech savvy Penelope Garcia says, pulling a newer picture of Elodie on the screen. She lost the innocent look, the deep dark circles under her eyes and the sunken cheeks. She grew her hair out, the shoulder length waves made way for long luscious locks of black hair. A septum piercing, a few hints of tattoos. While back when she still lived with Rowan Rancher she had almost a girly and angelic aura, she now looks tougher.

Broken.

‘Where do we think Rowan Rancher went?’ JJ asks. ‘Because judging from the enormous amounts of deranged fan mail this man receives, he has plenty of places to hide.’

Rossi shakes his head. ‘No, there was only one thing that set this man off. That made him irritable and that was the absence of his daughter. He’ll use the women who sent him those fan mails and were stupid enough to put their addresses on it to get him closer to who he truly wants.’

‘Elodie Price,’ Derek notes. ‘Baby girl, is she on a lot of social media?’

‘Nope,’ Garcia says. ’She has a tiny social media footprint. The only times facial rec got a hit was because she was partially in a picture of someone else, but this girl is practically a ghost.’

‘Where does she currently live?’ Emily Prentiss asks.

‘Right here in Quantico,’ Garcia answers. ‘She works from home as a translator. English to Dutch and vice versa.’

‘Dutch is a West Germanic language spoken by approximately twenty five million people as a first language and five million as a second language. Actually it’s one of the closest relatives of both German and English and, like the English language, hasn’t undergone the High German consonant shift, therefore it doesn’t use the Germanic umlaut, has largely abandoned the use of the subjunctive and has leveled much of its morphology, including most of its case system.’

While Spencer takes a deep breath to continue, agent Hotchner figures it’s the best moment to divide tasks. ‘I want Prentiss and JJ on the jet to Texas, to help out the local police departments and prison employees to communicate with the public. Rossi and Reid, go pay Elodie Price a visit. Morgan, you and I will stay here and set up a task force in order to locate Rowan Rancher. Garcia?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘I want you to try and trace Rancher’s steps. I want an exact step by step track record of when he escaped, his route and where he can possibly reside.’

■□■□■□■□■□■

Her

Sometimes I am not too sure whether or not my ability to spot lies from miles away is a blessing or a curse. I’m one hundred percent certain the Starbucks barista who just wished me a nice day, rather wished me and every customer prior and after me would get hit by a bus. The slight tension in her jaw, the dark eyes.

She is not in an excellent mood.

With my Chai Latte with a pump of caramel, I make my way back to my place. I barely leave the safe walls of my apartment and when I do leave, it’s to do groceries, grab a coffee and go to the local independent bookstores.

My life is simple and simple is all I need.

Once back home in my studio apartment, I sit down at my dinner table that serves as my work space for the next upcoming three hours. I’ve finished a lot of my work already, meaning I can either work ahead or call it a day.

Becoming a translator is honestly not the job I thought I’d do for the rest of my life, but translating technical manuals, school texts books and other boring things requires very little interaction with others and for now, that is what I need.

The fear of someone recognizing me as Elodie Rancher is a fear I assume I will carry with me till the day I die.

Three knocks on my door and I stretch out my neck, as if that enhances my hearing. Thinking it’s my senile neighbor Dolores again, I stand up and look through the peephole, before deciding if I’ll be home to deal with her antics again.

But it’s not Dolores. It’s someone else.

Two people. Men. And they both look familiar.

When I open the door, I see David Rossi standing there, the man who helped me gain footing again after my father was arrested back in Washington. ‘Mister Rossi,’ I manage to choke out.

‘Elodie,’ he says, ‘how are you doing?’

All of the sudden, I am seventeen again. Traumatized, fearful and not too sure what to do with my life. ‘Something happened,’ I conclude, not answering the question. ‘Something involving my father.’

David Rossi lets out a deep sigh. ‘Elodie, can we come in?’

I take a step to the side, letting David Rossi and the man next to him inside. He’s tall—like, a lot taller than to my below average height—and says: ‘I’m Doctor Spencer Reid.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I listen to your seminars sometimes.’

That piques his interest. ‘Seriously?’

’Yeah,’ I answer, closing the door behind him. Seeing these agents standing in my living room, causes me to nearly shake with anxiety. ‘What happened?’

‘Rowan Rancher has escaped prison.’

Five words, but they are enough to knock all air out of my lungs. My father escaped prison? He’s been incarcerated for eight years, how on earth did he manage to do that? My father is smart, no doubt, but escapism appeared to be something that was part of fiction.

Not reality.

‘Oh,’ is the intelligent answer I manage to muster up.

‘We have reason to believe that you are in possible danger if he figures out where you are,’ David Rossi continues, ‘therefore we want to offer you a deal.’

‘Okay?’

‘You help us with an eventual profile, tracking his steps, since you are truly the only one who knows him better than anyone. We’ll make sure you are in safe hands, always flanked by an agent.’

Deep down I want to say no. I don’t want protection, but knowing the lengths my father goes through to finish what he started, I have to help them.

Otherwise the Rowan Rancher victim count will only increase again.

■□■□■□■□■□■

‘The Maluku Islands are an archipelago in the eastern part of Indonesia. Geographically they are located east of Sulawesi, west of New Guinea and north and east of Timor. The islands have been considered a geographical and cultural intersection of Asia and Oceania. Actually—fun fact—the islands were known as the Spice Islands, because of the nutmeg, mace and cloves that were exclusively found there.’

Believe it or not, I didn’t ask for this explanation about the Maluku Islands. However, when I said to Spencer Reid my mother was a Moluccan woman born in The Netherlands, it ignited something in him to tell me all about my heritage.

But honestly I am not complaining about said history lesson. While I told the doctor I sometimes listen to his seminars, little does anyone know I actually listen to his seminars to go to sleep. The tidal waves of information that rolls from his tongue in a fast pace, causes me to dive into a deep night sleep. Not because I’m bored, but because I’m calmed down.

‘Sorry, Elodie,’ the man who introduced himself as Derek Morgan says, ‘there isn’t an off switch on this kid.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘No need to turn him off.’

Back at the Quantico headquarters, I’m quickly adopted by their technical analyst Penelope Garcia, under the close supervision of David Rossi. I’m staring at the last picture of my father, one pulled from security footage ten miles away from the prison. Ever since that moment, it almost appears like he’s a ghost. Evaporated into thin air.

‘It had been my father and I since I was five,’ I whisper, but it’s loud enough for the other two to hear me. ’My mother ran off, unable to live with Rowan, because of his personality.’

Penelope turns to me. ‘And she just left you there?’

‘Yeah. When… When mister Rossi reached out to her after my father was caught, she hung up the phone after telling him I was doomed to fail anyway. She now lives in Australia, has three kids and is the stepmom of a girl who was my age. Who apparently wasn’t doomed to fail.’

Penelope places her hand on my shoulder and whispers: ‘I’m sorry.’

I quickly push aside the thoughts, before I tell them I have to use the restroom. Once done there, I walk passed the bullpen, witnessing Spencer bowed over a map. I push open the door and walk up to him. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask.

‘According to the traceable steps of Rowan Rancher pulled by Garcia, it occurred to me that he travels predominantly east.’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘That’s what he always said to me. When in doubt, go east. No idea why, but he just said that.’

‘It is essentially what you did,’ Spencer says. ‘Going from Washington state to Wyoming, then Iowa and then settling in Virginia, is traveling east.’ Spencer continues on to tell me about the landmarks Rowan Rancher will encounter when he continues to travel east, however I say: ‘He met my mother in Columbus, Ohio.’

When David Rossi first found me, I barely could muster up the energy nor the memories to tell him this information. Instead of talking about it, I pushed it down. My mother wasn’t a USA citizen and considering she at first was practically untraceable and then made it very clear she didn’t want to talk about Rowan Rancher, every bit of information about him came back to me.

But I was useless when I was seventeen.

I will not make the same mistake at the tender age of twenty five.

‘They met at the botanical gardens, if I remember correctly,’ I say.

Compared to Spencer Reid, my memory was severely lacking.

‘The Franklin Park Conservatory and Botanical Gardens,’ he recites.

’Yeah, somewhere near the Pacific Island part.’

‘Pacific Island Water Garden.’

‘I think so.’

Spencer Reid tilts his head. ‘We don’t know why exactly Rowan Rancher escaped. In the time he was incarcerated, he only received fanmail, had zero visitors and doesn’t interact with fellow prisoners.’

‘He escaped because he thinks he didn’t do anything wrong,’ I say. ‘Murdering Wendall Regal was different, but according to the way he would think, I only assume he’d think his sentence is done with the eight years.’

I did it for you, baby. No man can do what he did to you. Shivers run down my spine as I hear my father’s voice, covered in the blood of Wendall Regal.

‘I think he just wants to retrace the steps of happiness. When he met my mother, I guess he was happy. When I was born in Miami, Florida during a storm in a hotel room, I guess he was happy.’

‘Can you tell me all the places where you remember your father was happy?’ Spencer asks.

And all I can do is nod, before I go back deep into my memory, hopefully able to help the people catch my father.

■□■□■□■□■□■

Five days. It took them five days and one female victim before they caught my dad in Miami Florida, near the same hotel I was born. The female victim was one of his fans, one of the people who was stupid enough to write down her address on the fan mail, instead of a post office box. She wasn’t my father’s normal type—this woman was fifty years old, had died red hair and had brown eyes—but she also wasn’t murdered in a manner it would be recognized to be murdered by my father.

The only thing that gave away what he did, was the ERR carved in her skin. Elodie Rowan Rancher. My real name. The name he gave to me. It was him who named me Elodie. It was him who insisted on having a middle name identical to his own name. It was him who laughed at my mom for possibly thinking it would be okay I was gonna have my mom’s surname.

ERR.

I sometimes think he killed because of me. I wondered what I did to make him do that.

My time here at the BAU has come to an end. After saying my goodbyes to everyone, together with Spencer I step into the elevator. I accidentally told him how the 1994 movie Speed with Keanu Reeves is my favorite movie.

‘The movie premiered in Hollywood on June 7th 1994, only to be released to the rest of the United States three days later. It became critically and commercially successful and the fifth-highest-grossing movie of 1994.’

‘It won two Academy Awards,’ I interject. ‘For Best Sound Effects Editing and Best Sound.’

Spencer turns to the side, a wide smile toying on his lips. Those puppy eyes nearly glimmer, almost like he’s delighted that I’m adding information to it. ‘Exactly. The sequel Speed 2: Cruise Control was actually nominated for eight Golden Raspberry Awards, winning the Worst Remake or Sequel category. The Golden Raspberry Awards is a parody award show honoring the worst of cinematic failures. They say it’s due to the absence of Keanu Reeves, who decided not to reprise his role as Jack Traven.’

‘Who is the most awarded actor?’ I ask. ‘Of those awards?’

‘Sylvester Stallone. He was nominated thirty three times and won eleven Golden Raspberry Awards.’

The way to my place is filled with these types of conversations. Including Spencer Reid reciting a good ten minutes of the movie Speed. I knew his brain was mesmerizing, but there is something so endearing about seeing it in real life.

Once we’re standing in front of my door, I say: ‘Thank you, for making these odd couple of days bearable.’

‘Five days,’ he says, because he simply can’t help himself.

‘Five days,’ I repeat. I open the door of my place and say: ‘Thank you, Spencer.’

‘Thank you for your help. Thanks to you I could make a clear geographical map of important places for Rancher, meaning I could better pinpoint the spots he could be, thanks to Garcia’s sightings. Also, thank you for identifying the mark on the victim.’

‘Of course,’ I say, clenching my jaw, trying to push it down. ‘Well, you should go home. It’s been a rough few days.’

‘Actually, the best time for me to go to bed is either at eight in the evening or eleven. Considering it’s nine fifteen now, I have to wait one hour and forty-five minutes before I can fall asleep. However, it still is a thirty minute commute back to my place and if all goes well, I’ve got enough time to read the entire Harry Potter series and the first book of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I could then read approximately eighty percent of book two, the Two Towers.’

‘Right,’ I say, my head spinning a little because of this load of information. ‘Well, you better get going then.’

He smiles. ‘Yeah, I should.’ He awkwardly holds up his hand. ‘Bye.’

And I watch Spencer clutching onto his bag, making his way to the elevator and for the first time in a long time, I feel a smile on my face.

■□■□■□■□■□■

Beyond Words Taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @beenthroughalot // @chickensarentcheap //

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