#Shes a fallen angel because I really like em :3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uhohwhathaveidone · 1 year

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Hello, I was wondering if I could request a fluffy Ominis x fem (Hufflepuff) MC? (Maybe post game, but like everyone lives happily au?)

Like where Ominis has a “Secret admirer” who leaves him adorable braille notes shortly after their sixth year starts.. saying stuff like “your bright lovely soul makes the stars envious of your splendor” “your heart is so beautiful, it must’ve been made by angels” and “your kind and gentle heart is lovable beyond words”

He’s so confused, and utterly flustered that someone out there is doing all this for him.. it’s obvious this’s no meer crush. It takes dedication to learn a whole new language, especially one as difficult as braille. What baffles him though is HOW his admirer is leaving these notes for him??? Even in his commen room? (The answer is Seb.. the cheeky little co-conspirator. Mc passes him a few now and then to specifically put them where Ominis can’t help but find them.)

He can also tell that his secret admirer is getting better and better at making the notes, he can tell by the texture alone the quality is always increasing.. eventually he starts looking forward to finding the hidden treasures made specifically for him~ eventually he bumps into MC (perhaps in his distracted mind trying to figure out who his admirer really is, he just trips over and lands on top of MC) the two are are both so flustered that MC gets up in a hurry but before she could escape, Ominis picks up a piece of paper that she dropped in order to hand it back to her.. and he freezes.

Because #1 it’s a Note. #2 this means his admirer is MC, the girl he’s been utterly infatuated with since he first met her. #3 the texture tells him this must’ve been one of the first ones she made. And finally #4 the words on the note. “I believe I’ve fallen deeply and irrevocably in-love with you, Ominis.” He’s grinning like an lovesick idiot~

My brain hurts trying to come up with romantic notes.

Secret Admirer (O.G)

My hair curled up and now it's the opposite of what it was when it got cut, which I knew was going to happen. Still cute though. Obviously, this is a Hufflepuff/Fem/Reader. Ominis is such a sweet boy like I love him. Sebastian is the best wingman, of course. He just has a problem with having a poker face, or lack thereof. I hope you enjoy <3

Ominis sighed as he walked into the common room, making his way to where his dorm was. Sebastian walked beside him, rambling on about how classes seemed to have gotten harder since they started their sixth year. “It’s going to get harder, Sebastian. That’s how it works.” Ominis said, opening the door and walking in. Sebastian groaned as he plopped himself onto the bed, kicking off his shoes. “I know it’s going to get harder, but I can’t be the only one having a hard time already.” Ominis shook his head, placing his bag down next to his bed as he sat on its edge. “I bet y/n has been having a hard time, and she’s brilliant! You can’t tell me that you’re the only one doing well.” Sighing, Ominis reached for his bag and took out a book. “I doubt she’s having any problems. She’s a fast learner.” Sebastian chuckled, speaking quietly. “She sure is.” “What?” “Nothing.”

A week had passed since the three of you had started your sixth year, and after Sebastian had complained enough to the two of you, a study group was created. “Sebastian, do you even remember what you learned last year?” You asked, staring at the parchment he had handed you. He shrugged as he frowned. “Sure, I do! I remember Accio, that’s important, right?” Ominis shook his head as he sighed, flipping through the pages of the charms book. You handed the page back to him, pulling out a piece of parchment from your bag and glaring at it instead. Ominis sat across from you, trailing his fingers down the page. You exchanged glances with Sebastian, who raised his eyebrow and smirked at you. You shook your head as you glared at him, reluctantly handing the page to him. Sebastian grinned at you as he stuffed it into his pocket, returning to his book as he read out a sentence.

Ominis exchanged goodbyes with you as you parted ways by the Hufflepuff common room, walking with Sebastian back to their own dorm. Sebastian continued up to where the two of them slept, leaving Ominis to take a seat on the couch as he pondered about what he had done that day. Sebastian returned shortly after, a sly smirk on his face that he didn’t even try to hide, taking a seat next to Ominis. “Did you know about the spell we learned about today?” He asked, referring to what they had been studying in the library. Ominis nodded as he stretched his arms. “Of course. It’s a simple fire spell; my mother uses it every now and then to light one of her candles.” Sebastian groaned in response. “Well, that certainly isn’t fair.”

The two boys talked for another hour before they decided to retreat for the night. Ominis quickly changed into his night clothes and prepared for bed, while Sebastian sat on his bed, grinning as he waited for Ominis to get into bed. “You sure do take a long time to get ready for bed, you know.” He said, growing impatient. Ominis shook his head as he set his wand on the table, “You seem awfully worried about my routine tonight, I have half the mind to think you were planning something.” Sebastian shrugged as he laid back on his bed. “I’m not planning anything, but it’s late, and you haven’t put all your papers away yet.” Ominis furrowed his brows as he turned to Sebastian, confused. “What do you mean?” Sebastian sighed, slipping under the covers, still smiling. “You have paper on your bed. I assume you meant to put it away?” Ominis huffed in response, grazing his hand over the sheets in search of the paper Sebastian had claimed was on his bed. Sure enough, Ominis’ fingers grazed parchment and he picked it up. He ran his fingers over its surface, reading it to see what class it was for.

The raised bumps were crude, in a way, rather different from Ominis’ normal reading material. He furrowed his brows and frowned as he tried to make sense of it; it was clear that someone unfamiliar with Braille had tried their hand at it, and he felt his cheeks heat up as he began to understand what was being said. “I have been captivated by the stars on your face, each one a testament to your unique beauty. They lead me towards the depths of your soul, and I am constantly in awe of the universe that you contain within you.” Some of the words were misspelled, but they were easy to decode. The note continued. “Let me be your stargazer; let me bask in the light of your beauty, even if it’s only from afar. For as long as you have those stars on your face, I will continue to be your devoted admirer.” Ominis stood there, stunned, as he read through the note again. Sebastian’s shoulders shook in silent laughter as he watched Ominis’ face turn red, smiling as he continued to stand there as he read it.

“What’s the matter? An old worksheet from last year?” Sebastian asked, breaking Ominis from his trance. He stuttered as he turned to Sebastian, eyes wide. “Oh, uh, yes. I believe it is.” Sebastian smiled as he watched Ominis fold the note and place it under his wand. Ominis quickly slipped into bed, telling Sebastian good night as he turned away. He could hear soft snores escape Sebastian as he quickly fell asleep, while he was kept up by his fast-paced heart and thoughts. As he tried to calm his mind, his thoughts went back to the note; the braille wasn’t the best, but it was still impressive if someone didn’t understand the language, and Ominis smiled to himself as he thought about someone potentially learning braille just for him.

He found himself frowning, however, as he thought more about it. How did it find its way to his bed? It was possible that the note was from someone in Slytherin, but the note had found its home on his bed, and Ominis didn’t think anyone would walk into his dorm to place a note like that. He sighed to himself as he shook the thought from his mind, opting to go over the words that had been on the note instead, falling asleep with a smile on his face.

Sebastian had left early the next morning, telling Ominis that he would meet him in class as he took his bag and walked out of the common room. He quickly made his way down the halls and waited near the Hufflepuff common room, spooking you as you turned the corner. “Sebastian! It’s too early for your theatrics.” You said, hand to your chest as you tried to calm your heart. He laughed as he took your arm, leading you down the hall to where your class would be in under an hour. “I took the note you gave me and put it on his bed last night.” Sebastian started, smiling as you blushed slightly. “Did he see it?” He nodded, telling you in detail how Ominis stood, frozen like a statue, for what felt like ages, and how he ran his fingers over the page multiple times, reading it over and over. “Did he say anything about it?” You asked, Sebastian shaking his head. “He seemed rather happy, though. I don’t think he would talk about it so soon after receiving it.” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “What was in that note, anyway?” Sebastian asked, quirking his eyebrow as he smirked at you. You quickly shook your head as you swatted at him. “Just some practice braille, nothing more.” “Sure, it was.” “Shut up.”

Ominis kept the note he had received in the pocket of his robe, neatly folded to avoid any damage to the braille. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even you or Sebastian, who smiled as you watched Ominis graze over the pages of his book. Sebastian nudged you while walking down the hall, smirking at you as you tried to work on your next note as you walked. While you were a fast learner, braille was a whole other language, and you desperately wanted it to be perfect for Ominis, who walked next to you, oblivious. You frowned, glancing over at him, huffing in frustration. “Is there something wrong, y/n?” Ominis asked, causing you to jump slightly. Sebastian chuckled, watching you shake your head as you stuffed the parchment into your bag. “No! Nothing is wrong. I was just…thinking about when we can go to Hogsmeade. It’s been so long!” You fibbed, forcing a smile as you looked at your feet. Ominis nodded in agreement, smiling. “It has been a while, perhaps next week we can take a trip.” You nodded as you swatted at Sebastian again, who had begun to mimic your embarrassment. “Sounds like the perfect plan.” You said through gritted teeth.

A few days later, Ominis arrived at the common room later than normal. The study session had taken longer than expected, even after Sebastian had excused himself, leaving the two of you to go over the potions you had learned that day. You discussed, in depth, how each potion was supposed to look, something that you didn’t really need to know, but still went over. Sebastian quickly left the session after you handed him another note, explaining that he needed to speak with a professor before they closed their doors. Sebastian did not, however, speak to a professor. He had quickly hurried to the common room and looked around, searching for a spot to put the note where Ominis would find it, opting for the seat that he normally sat at. No one really sat in that seat except Ominis, who found it rather comfortable so close to the fire. Once the note was placed, Sebastian sat down in his normal spot, occupying himself with a book until Ominis showed up.

Ominis sighed as he walked in, taking his normal route to his seat by the fire. Sebastian coughed, causing him to jump. “Sebastian? I thought you went to speak to a professor?” He asked, looking in his direction. Sebastian shrugged, “I didn’t get there in time, so I decided to wait for you here.” Ominis nodded as he put his bag down, sifting through it for a book. “Did you walk Y/n back to her dorm?” Ominis nodded, a slight pink tint reaching his cheeks. “I did, in fact. Why wouldn’t I?” “I was just making sure.” Sebastian watched as Ominis took a seat, almost knocking the note over that had been placed on the arm of the chair. It rustled slightly as Ominis’ sleeve brushed it, catching his attention. He picked it up, a slight smile on his face as he felt the bumps through the folded paper.

He unfolded it, running his fingers down the pages as he felt the braille, which had gotten remarkably better in what felt like a week since the last note. “Though you cannot see with your physical eyes, I am in awe of the way you see the world. Your inner vision is a light that shines brighter than any star in the sky, guiding you towards the most beautiful aspects of life.” Stars. Each note had mentioned stars in them, and flustered Ominis as the notes continued to compare him to one. Whoever had written these notes saw Ominis the same way they saw the stars in the night sky; beautiful, something that Ominis never thought about himself. He felt his cheeks grow hotter as he continued. “Let me be your eyes; let me guide you towards the beauty that you so rightfully deserve. For as long as I am by your side, I will be your faithful companion on this journey through life.”

Sebastian had to cover his mouth as he watched Ominis as he sat there, eyes wide and face burning. He watched Ominis’ mouth open and close like a fish as he read through it again, quickly reaching into his pocket. Sebastian’s smile grew as he recognized the paper that Ominis took out of his pocket, watching as he went through both notes now. What had you written this time to make him so flustered? Sebastian shook his head, enjoying the moment as Ominis was left speechless. When you had asked Sebastian if he could give Ominis your little notes, discreetly of course, he never imagined he’d get such a kick out of watching Ominis freak out. “Are you ok? You look like you’ve been hit with a freezing spell.” Sebastian asked, trying to keep his voice calm as his shoulders continued to shake. Ominis didn’t respond, only nodding as he continued to read the notes.

The following weeks went by quickly as Ominis spent each day searching around him for the small notes. He had even asked the two of you to keep an eye out for notes in braille, excited that he had something that only he could truly see. You both agreed, of course, and Sebastian smiled at you when you realized that you had to hand the notes to him in person, your face draining of colour as you thought about it. After Charms, you quickly handed Ominis the fifth note, claiming that he left it at his desk. He accepted it quickly and thanked you, an excited smile on his lips as his cheeks grew pink. You watched him unfold the page and trace his finger over it, finally able to see what Sebastian had talked about.

You didn’t write anything special in the note this time around, opting to speak in a more friendly manner. “It warms my heart that you continue to read my notes. I hope that my braille isn’t as choppy as it was originally, I had been practicing all break to make sure you were able to read it. I am grateful for the time we have spent together, and I look forward to continuing to explore the universe that you contain within you. With you by my side, I know that anything is possible.” Ominis felt giddy as he folded it back up and placed it in his pocket with the rest of them, thanking you once again as you walked together down the hall.

“You don’t normally leave your notes laying around, Ominis. But so far, you’ve had five come into your possession?” You asked, trying to make conversation as well as trying to get a better picture as to how Ominis felt about the notes. He shook his head as he continued to walk, smiling. “It’s rather amazing, actually! I’m the only one who understands braille, yet there is someone writing me notes, for my eyes only.” You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips. “So, you’re not leaving notes lying around?” He shook his head. “Someone is writing to me. At first, I thought it was just a one-time thing, someone just letting me know that there was someone out there with a crush.” You furrowed your brows, “But?” Ominis turned to you, his face turning red as he continued to talk. “They’re love letters, y/n! And from what I’ve read, especially from the one you found, I know them. It’s rather exciting, really.” You chuckled as you turned down the hall to the Hufflepuff common room. Stopping at the entrance, you gave Ominis a final smile. “I’m glad you’re finding a universe in those notes, Star Boy.” With that, you walked into the common room, leaving Ominis on the other side of the wall.

Ominis laid in bed that night as his thoughts raced. He read through the notes again and again, his mind drifting around as he thought back to earlier. You called him Star Boy, and mentioned a universe, just like the notes beside him said. He racked his brain as he searched for a moment where he might have mentioned the contents of the notes, unable to find any as he stared at the ceiling, sighing quietly. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, letting his mind roam without restraints. A few moments later, Ominis found himself staring at the ceiling again, wide-eyed as his mind began piecing things together. Were you the one writing the notes? You had been close friends for some time now, and Ominis would be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for you, even when he read the first note, his heart skipped a beat at the thought that perhaps you wrote it. Even as he thought about the possibility that you had basically hand-delivered the last note to him, his heart skipped. Ominis could hardly sleep that night.

You sat beside Sebastian in Potions, yawning lightly as you rested your head in your palm. Ominis sat on the other side of Sebastian, going over the peptalk he had given himself that morning before heading over to class. You greeted him as he walked into the room, and he stuttered a hello back before quickly taking out his book and hiding his face in it. You and Sebastian exchanged confused glances before the professor began class, leading to where you were now, slowly falling asleep as Sharp’s voice dragged on. You tapped your fingers on the table, earning a few glances from Ominis as he continued to think about what to say to you once the class was over, unsure if he should just ask you flat-out if you were the one writing the notes or not.

When Sharp dismissed the class, you stayed in your seat, unaware that the class had finished. Sebastian grabbed Ominis’ sleeve as he tried to walk away, chuckling as he whispered that you were asleep. Ominis furrowed his brows as he stood there, listening to Sebastian as he told him to wait. He hovered over you as you dozed, unaware about the assault that he was about to unleash on you to wake you up. Sebastian quickly jabbed his fingers into your sides, causing you to yelp and nearly fall out of your seat as you tried to get away. “Sebastian! What in Merlin’s beard?” You shouted, swatting at him. Ominis chuckled, smiling as he listened to you scold Sebastian. “Well then don’t fall asleep, you’ll be late for your next class.” Your eyes widened as you looked around the room, seeing that only the three of you were left. You quickly grabbed your bag as you shoved your book inside, rushing to the door.

Ominis grabbed your arm as you passed him, hoping to talk to you before you ran off. He took you by surprise, however, and you tripped over the legs of the chair beside you. Ominis quickly grabbed for you as you fell, cursing lightly under his breath as he went down with you. Sebastian smiled as he quickly snuck off, not bothering to help you from the ground. “Are you ok? You didn’t hit your head, did you?” Ominis asked, as he hovered over you. You looked around, finding the contents of your bag sprawled everywhere. “Yes, I’m ok, thank you.” You breathed, eyes wide as you stared up at Ominis, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to take you down with me, I’m sorry, Ominis.” You continued, unable to get up as you laid on your back. Ominis shook his head as he slowly lifted himself off you, taking your hand and helping you gather your things.

“I was hoping I could have a word with you, actually.” Ominis said, handing you a book. You thanked him, putting it back into your bag as you stood. “Perhaps later? Sebastian was right, if I don’t hurry, I’ll be late.” You gave Ominis an apologetic look as he nodded, telling him goodbye as you quickly made your way out of the room. Ominis sighed as he reached down to gather his wand and book, his hand making contact with a piece of old parchment. He furrowed his brows as he picked it up, unfolding it and inspecting it. His eyes widened as he felt the paper, crude braille on its surface. It was rough, far more than the note he had gotten weeks ago. He furrowed his brows as he tried to decipher it. “I believe I’ve fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with you, my dear Ominis.”

Ominis felt his heart skip a beat once again as he held the note, one that no doubt had fallen from your bag when the two of you had tumbled to the ground. He smiled to himself as he held the note, his theory proven correct; you had been the writer. He put the note into his pocket as he walked out of the classroom, grinning. You spent the whole break learning braille for him. You shared the same feelings that he had for you, too, and you called him beautiful, claiming that you wanted to be by his side. He met with Sebastian, who smirked at Ominis when he saw the grin on his face. “Someone’s happy.” Ominis nodded, his smile growing bigger as he glanced toward Sebastian. “Y/n really is a fast leaner.”

#ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt #hufflepuff reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #ominis gaunt fluff #fluff #sebastian sallow

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sixofravens-reads · 5 months

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re: 2023 new releases. hope you're ready for a long message because there were a lot.

hot new releases/things that were relatively popular

He Who Drowned The World, Shelley Parker Chan (Chinese mythological historical, very gay, very stabby a la Baru Cormorant. Book 2 of 2. A particular favorite of mine from this year)

Witch King, Martha Wells (New fantasy book by author of murderbot fame. I didn't actually click with this one but I'd be remiss to leave it off)

House With Good Bones, T Kingfisher (Southern gothic rose horror by the very talented Ursula Vernon)

Translation State, Ann Leckie (high sf alien horror regency romance. Wheeeeee. I had a lot of fun reading this. You can read it as a standalone, but you get deeper context if you've read the ancillary justice series, also highly recommended)

Will of the Many, James Islington (futuristic roman empire aesthetic rigged murder school. Not precisely good but appallingly catchy, I read all six hundred pages in pretty much one sitting. If you liked red rising you'll like this, if you hated red rising you will Not)

OH YEAH THE ACTUAL NEW MURDEBOT NOVEL (System Collapse)

A Power Unbound, Freya Marske (book 3 of 3, magic alt edwardian romances with murder. This is more romance proper but it's about equal with the action plot and Marske is very good. I don't think you've read these so you'd have to start at book 1)

Some Desperate Glory, Emily Tesh (The book that absolutely knocked my socks off, my pick for the best sff release of the year. I forget if I've already told you about this one)

Starling House, Alix Harrow (Southern gothic house drama. Similar feel to Ninth House or The Book of Night)

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, Shannon Chakraborty (Divorced lady pirate adventure-drama a la Arabian Nights.)

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries, Heather Fawcett (Charming, heavily fairy tale trope themed, vaguely reminiscent of the Lady Trent books)

more obscure new releases from this year that I thought were cool, but not in the Hot New Reads You Can't Miss Because Everyone's Read Them category

Under Fortunate Stars, Ren Hutchings (sf timey wimey space shenanigans with aliens. Immensely cool premise.)

Small Miracles, Olivia Atwater (fallen angel sent to tempt a too good mortal. Extremely charming)

The King Is Dead, Naomi Libicki (vaguely persian flavored fealty romance, very heavy to the fealty. Original, thorny, and intriguing)

The Deep Sky, Yume Kitasei (What if we terribly traumatized everyone going on a generation ship by making them go to viciously competitive boarding school together and then act surprised when a murder mystery occurs. Heads up that it's more interested in the human drama than the SF worldbuilding)

The Saint of Bright Doors, Vajra Chandrasekera (early modern fantasy world anti-imperialism fever dream narrated by a cult survivor. Brilliantly written, spectacularly original, one of the best books I read this year)

Things for 2024, content warning for being (obviously) things I haven't read and thus without quality control

The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden

The Familiar, Leigh Bardugo

The Dead Cat Tail Assassins, P Djeli Clark

Long Live Evil, Sarah Rees Brennan

Goddess of the River, Vaishnavi Patel

The Woods All Black, Lee Mandelo

Exordia, Seth Dickinson

A Sorceress Comes To Call, T Kingfisher

Running Close To The Wind, Alexandra Rowland

Wow tumblr just lets me keep writing words. I didn't think they let me have this many in asks. Oh, and pro tip-- keep an eye out for tordotcom's most anticipated upcoming books for the first six months of 2024. They should be publishing it within the next week or so and I always add masses of books to my tbr from there.

oh holy crap, thanks!! I'll have to check these out!

thoughts on a few of em:

He Who Drowned The World - still have to read She Who Became the Sun lol but hopefully I'll get to em next year!

Witch King - Martha Wells has been recced by like All my sci-fi mutuals now lmao I REALLY gotta get into her!

House With Good Bones - THIS ONE IS ACTUALLY ON MY SHELF!! I just didn't fucking read it this year whoops. Very excited for new Kingfisher

Starling House - I was on the fence about this one since I really didn't like Once and Future Witches, but those comparisons give me hope! I'll add it to the library list!

Some Desperate Glory and Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries are 2/3 of the books published in 2023 that I actually managed to read (the 3rd is The Woman in Me lmao), I can't remember if you recc'd Some Desperate Glory, but it was SOOOOOOOO GOOD OMFG

Small Miracles - my aunt has been trying to convince me to read Atwater for quite a while, I'll have to give this one a try!

The Saint of Bright Doors - I have this one on hold!! Saw a post for it a week or so ago and it sounds absolutely delightful!

The Familiar - SO SO EXCITED for this one! I hope Bardugo is maybe...slowly....extricating herself from the Grishaverse and going to write more books not related to it... (not that they're all bad, I loved the Six of Crows duology, I'm just not into it anymore and I reeeealllly like her adult books lol)

Running Close To The Wind - oh yay new Rowland! I still haven't read her last book (the one with the guy on the cover who looked EXACTLY like my boss to the point where it became an Office Meme that [Boss] Is A Gay Romance Cover Model, still meaning to get a UK version of it but haven't yet) but I'll have to look this one up!

#seriously this is SO MANY RECS THANK YOU!!

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handgiven · 7 months

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name. emmanuel / immanuel

name meaning. god is with us

alias.( ses ). em, emmy, hen-heart, turncoat, god’s oldest wind-up toy, bird of paradise, touch-me-not & patron saint of all things miniscule and unimportant

two picture's you like of your character. first choice would have been the two drawings my friend did but you can see those anywhere around my blog s o imma just put some gifs, and imma make it four, cos i never get to use anyway <3

three headcanons you never told anyone. (oh my-- that'd require me to not post everything i ever think of and then not not recall what's out and what's not)

i : being created out of guilt, the first emotion he's known had been shame. he learnt to turn shame into love and thus gain his footing. still, compared to other angels, he wasn't created with his chin up high and never quite saw eye-to-eye with them. it's not that he feels less than them so much as some of them feel better than him. he's spent most of his time back in the garden tending to the flora and fauna for this reason, because in spite of all that love of his family he preaches, he found it easier to communicate with the other creations.

ii : the first words he's spoken to many of the other angels have been during the war between heaven and hell. this absurd violence was what finally forced him to make the choice and break out of his self-imposed solitude, and actually enact the love he claims to have for all angels, fallen and not alike. many of them didn't even know he existed when he brought them from the brink of death. many of them would forget him after, memory lost in the dust of the battle.

iii : overall, considering how lovingly he does speak about his family, one would imagine he sees them much more than he really does. he speaks more to fallen angels than the ones still in heaven, mostly because he feels that they are the ones more in need of love and grace, but also a bit because he worries that should heaven pick up on what he's doing on his own, they might object. and as much as he believes in his cause, he would hate to get in conflict with heaven for it.

three things your character likes to do in their free time.

i : gardening ii : hiking & exploring iii : arts & crafts with friends

three people your character loves.

yeshua. a figure existing on a thin edge between humanity and holiness. a wandering philosopher preaching peace and forgiveness, looking to the stars for inspiration, yet unavoidably grounded by his own being human. he was the one that really taught emmanuel to want to talk to people.

éloa, sister of the angels. born out of yeshua's tear, she was a curious young thing that emmanuel took it upon himself to care for and protect. he failed, she fell, and he blames himself to this day.

thy neighbour. the 'your mom' of this very serious character sheet. a way for me to fit the whole planet into the 'three people' list and be funny about it.

two things your character regrets.

i. éloa.

ii: turning his back on heaven's violence unto humanity, divine punishment and all. any time he's faced with having to choose sides between the heavenly plan and any slight segment of humanity, he always ends up secondguessing and possibly regretting his choice, simply because his very nature makes him very conflicted in terms of what is expected of him. that which is expected of him is what he lives for, after all.

three phobia's your character has.

i. deep cold waters. ii. losing control of the holy light inside him. iii. failure.

TAGGED BY. @void-foxy thank you !! <3

TAGGING. anyone feeling intrigued <3 do tag me so i may see it !!

#▻ 𝐸𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑁𝑈𝐸𝐿 、musings ⁽ ˡᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵖᵒᵘʳˢ ᶦᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁾#▻ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐸𝑅𝐴𝐿 、dashboard games ⁽ ᵖᵃˢˢ ᶦᵗ ᵒⁿ ⁾#teehee i was gonna go sleep but then i got way into this. s o here <3 hope anyone cares #comment 'ur mom' if you saw & found the thy neighbour joke funny <3 #long post cw

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al3x1ss · 4 years

Text

Cheerleader Captain {HCs}

Includes: Terushima, Oikawa

THIS IS WRITTEN WITH A GENDER NEUTRAL READER!

Authors Note: This is a sort of collab with @lexysclubhouse based on our conversations LMAO, but seriously go check hers out!

If a part 2 is wanted, leave an ask!

Warnings: Cursing

Terushima

aLRIGHT KIDS LETS GET TO IT

also hello go check out Lexy’s part of this (collab? Idfk)

you two probably met while he was in practice, but since you’re the cheer captain, you needed to get the last jacket for one of your competitions coming up

so they’re on a water break and they just see a random person come in like

👀

are you lost baby gorl 😏

ANYWHO

Terushima comes up to you smirk and all

“Hey gorgeous, you lookin for me?”

You just look up at this man

Bored as hell

And you’re just SILENT

sO HES JUST LOSING CONFIDENCE LMAO

“No.”

YOU JUST SHOVE PAST HIM

HOMEBOY LOOKS LIKE A LOST PUPPY

so you go to your coach, and immediately a smile comes of your face

and he’s like oh my god

Angel 🥺

so you talk with your coach, get the jacket and say goodbye to her

jacket w a v i n g in the wind behind you like there’s literally a fan on but there’s not?

you’re just so cool to him

so he has already fallen like

IMMEDIATELY

was trying to find you but he can’t

He’s over here thinking you’re a 3rd year from how mature you were

(You’re a second year hehehehe)

so the next time he sees you, YOURE at practice!

His team wasn’t told that their gym was gonna be used for a little before practice

So his team got their early and saw your team doing a routine to “Livin’ La Vida Loca”

ONCE AGAIN HE HAS FALLEN IN LOVE AND CANT GET OUT

DUDE

YOU WITH YOUR POM POMS?

YOUR HIPS

MF ALMOST GOT A NOSEBLEED SHIT

LIKE IT WASN EVEN EROTIC

YOJ WERE JUST SO STUNNING AND COOL LIKE SHIT

HE FELT LIKE A LITERAL NERD

the words “I don’t deserve their oxygen” full on came out from his mouth

ONE OF HIS TEAMMATES JUST STARTED WHEEZING LIKE

OH MY GOD

THEIR CAPTAIN?

W I M P

Like you’re practicing in sweats but shit I mean I’d simp 😳

About 2 weeks later he hears about you guys winning your competition

At this point you kind of know him? Like after that small interaction the cheer team and volleyball team were introduced to eachother

Especially since you were going to be cheering at prelims in 2 months

So the next day he pulls you aside and confesses

Stuttering and ALL

HE GOT YOU FLOWERS

LIKE HE GOT ROSES CUZ HES A BASIC BITCH

BUT LEAVE HIM ALONE HES TRYING 🥺

Shit I’d KILL to get flowers from someone

especially him

okay lex not the time

HE TAKES YOU ON A DATE TO THIS REALLY CUTE DINER

YOU KISS HIS CHEEK AT THE END OF THE NIGHT EIRHHTHTYN

YOU LUCKY MF I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

literally the first conversation was about his tongue piercing

And he got REALLY self conscious

BUT

YOU HAD ONE TOO?

WHICH WAS SUPER COOL

LIKE OMG TWINSIES

like of course you took it out for comps and stuff but for just hanging out you had it in

You look so hot with it to him

so two weeks pass and it’s pre-lims!

At this point you’re one of Johzenji’s favorite couples

Like why didn’t y’all get together sooner you cute as FUCK

So you guys are doing a small routine while Terushima goes up to serve

ITS THE SAME LIVIN LA VIDA LOCA ROUTINE LMAO

MANS IS JUST HOLDING THE BALL STARING AT YOU

NOT KNOWING THAT THE WHISTLE BLEW ALREADY

AND THEN HE SNAPS OUT IF IT REALIZING HIS 8 SECONDS WERE UP

HE LITERALLY G A V E A POINT TO THE OTHER TEAM BECAUSE YOU WERE SO PRETTY

Now between switching sides after losing the 1st set, you walk up to him

He’s just staring at you smirking

“So, you wanna talk about that serve?”

“OH IM SOOOOORY, my pretty baby was just so beautiful, I couldn’t look away.”

THIS MAN DOESNT WALK AWAY

HE MF S K I P S

YOURE RED AS HELL

PRETTY BABY?

BEAUTIFUL?

UGH

Oikawa

heheh HES WEARINT MY NUMBER I ALWAYS SCREAM AT THIS

OKAY SO I HAD A DRESM AB THIS

AND I LOVED IT

SO ITS HAPPENING

ENJOY

OKAY

here’s what I’m thinking

Terushima HAS a cheerleading partner?

Oikawa HAD a cheerleading partner

Your schedules just never lined up and it was a mutual break up!!

You guys broke up about 3 months ago so the awkwardness is basically gone?

Like y’all are friends ya know

And yeah both of you do both still think about it randomly

mostly oikawa 👀

So they’re at practice and you come in SPRINTING

LIKE BOYS ARE ABOUT TO BLOW THE WHISTLE TO START A GAME AND THEY JUST SEE YOU ZOOM

SO EVERYONES JUST KINDA WATCHING LMAO

you don’t come out of the office for a while so they end up starting the game

you wanna know who’d up to serve

Oikawa :)

boy serves RIGHT when you come out

Like the universe was like “oh? let’s scare the mother loving SHIT out of ‘em!”

literally hits the wall next to you

“OIKAWA TOORU GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

MAN FREEZES

like shit

He was already gonna get scolded by iwa

but you?

he comes up to you with his arms behind his back, his eyes obviously terrified

“Do you know what you just did?”

“Yes.” 🥺

“And do you realize what you’re gonna do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Homeboy has never eeen this side of you so he’s terrified.

And when you go to walk away he realizes you’re wearing a captains jacket

“Wait, Y/N, you got promoted?”

“Oh, yeah, I tried for it like a month ago.”

“Congratulations.”

he kinda just stares at you walk out like

Me?

oIKawA tOoRU

missing my ex?

n e v e r

okay maybe sometimes

so the next time he sees you they’re at the prelims against date tech

And he seems you come in in your uniform

wOOSH 🥰

So you guys lock eyes and y’all wave at eachother

you can see his face is r e d so you’re smiling

the game starts, you guys doing simple cheers, but as they get to the transition to the second set, you guys start doing a cheer to “Idol” by BTS that you choreographed

And seeing you as a captain?

H I T THIS MAN

HIT IT TIL IT BREAKS TYPE BEAT

he literally paused to stare at you, iwa was like

“GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND DROOL AFTER THE GAME”

stan iwa honestly y’all would make fun of him together whenever you guys had time to hang out

So, end of prelims, they lost to Karasuno

And you’ve been to his house maybe a few times when you guys were dating?

so you remember where it is

his mom?

kinda shocked to see you?

especially in a cheerleading uniform since she never realized you did that?

but you were talking about how you just wanted to see him

so you go upstairs and into his room and he’s just in the corner with his alien plushy sobbing

Your heart is breaking at this point for this man

You go and sit beside him, him not really acknowledging you

“Tooru, I’m really really proud of you and what you’ve become. That will not be the last time you’re on a court, and I will make sure it that as long as I live.”.

he turns to you and turns his alien pushy, instead clinging onto you

You can feel your uniform getting soaked, but you run your fingers through his hair anyway, giving him forehead kisses

after a while of crying, he lifts his head to look at you, eyes still very puffy

You look at him back and you give him a small smile

And he puts his hand on your chin

Gotta get that kiss kiss after missing you for so long

SOFT MAKEOUTS WITH OIKAWA OKAY

so here you guys are at about 2am

Talking about how you missed eachother

“Y/N, I really want to get back together with you.”

😳

“Who would I be to say no to an offer like that?”

You guys go to school the next day

Give the rest of Seijoh 4 sQUEEZES

cuz they deserve it I love them dearly

on Saturday you guys actually went on a date!!

you wanna know what song came on the radio

MF IDOL

HE TURNS TO YOU GRINNING AND GOES

“Ya know you looked really cute doing this cheer, might want to see it again~”“OIKAWA TOORU I WILL NOT HESITATE TO CRASH THIS CAR”

End note: “Just a Friend to You” begins in two days and I’m v excited! (Once again thank you for 100 notes!) (self promotion ✨) But in all seriousness, please go check out Lexy’s stuff! She’s a great writer and is so sweet ❤️

~ Lex 🖤🤍

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #terushima headcanons #terushima yūji #terushima x reader #terushima yuji x reader #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu terushima #Royal Flush

219 notes · View notes

scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth

270 notes · View notes

adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.”

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?”

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken.

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.”

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”

“Have fun.”

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents.

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more.

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it.

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all.

It doesn’t look like Cas.

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay.

Castiel is not okay.

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before.

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.”

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!”

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone.

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again.

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man?

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him-

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets.

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place.

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?”

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!”

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death.

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?”

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?”

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.”

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face.

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little.

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.”

Tag list: @dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

#fanfic #my writing #destiel #deancas #15x20 coda #coda #fix it fic #sunset sound #sunset sound: stairway to heaven #runnin' on empty #chapter 1 #dean winchester #ash #castiel #charlie bradbury #bobby singer

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hoaqins-funk-house · 4 years

Text

Hoaqin/White

Yandere

Part 3

Walking through the halls, the other Hoaqin stays at your side. It seemed he had also gotten attached. “Y/N. I’m hungry.”

“You’re very similar to the other you. As for food, I’d ask the two behind us.”

He nods, looking over his shoulder. “Hey… I’m a bit hungry. Do either of you have something to eat?”

They freeze. “Wh-what do you mean by that...?”

“Like snacks.”

Yihwa pauses to look through her bag as Wangnan breathes a sigh of relief. “We have some snacks here.”

She hands him banana chips, you raising an eyebrow.

“Banana-shaped chips? Aren’t those for children?”

“Try them.” She urges, him shrugging and doing so.

“Oh, not bad. Thank you.” Holding the bag, he continues on down the hall, looking back at you in order to spur you into movement once more.

Loud rumbling fills the hall as you walk along, the Hoaqin at your side looking in the direction of its origin. “It’s not another me. Let’s go check it out.”

You crack your neck, looking in the same direction as him. “Sure.”

Wangnan and Yihwa look at each other, worried, soon running to catch up to you and Hoaqin.

“It isn’t the smartest decision to have such a loud fight on this dangerous train, is it?”

You look around at the group, seeing the angel lady and dog guy near two women and a small crocodilian.

“Mr. Crocodile!” Yihwa shouts. “Where’s Bam?!”

Hoaqin turns. “You’re their acquaintances?”

The dog guy turns to face your new group and Wangnan stutters out an answer.

“Is it possible that you’re another Hoaqin, sir?” He asks, the boy at your side confirming it.

“If you both know who I am, you must know the other me. Why are you fighting?”

Your eyes met with the crocodilian, him tilting his head at you. You both look away at the same time, seeing as a gargantuan sword made of white energy floated above Hoaqin. Your eyebrows raise, impressed. “Woah.”

“The ones who fed me are who I will side with. This situation may be unknown to me, but if you’re an enemy of theirs, I will not hesitate to slice you with this.” He threatens, the angel lady stammering as the blade gets pointed her way. “So, tell me. Are you an enemy? Or an ally?”

Before she can answer, the familiar voice of Hoaqin breaks the tense silence.

“Vicente!” He shouts, eyes widening before shifting into a glare at the sight of you next to him. “So, you’re the second one. It’s been a while! The first time seeing each other since we were one.” His grin was unnerving, not matching the anger that filled his eyes. “We need to become one.”

Vicente hums. “Right now?”

“Yes, a new Slayer Nominee has appeared, and everything has fallen apart. His name is Jue Viole Grace. We have to compete for the title of Slayer Nominee! Now, let’s become one, so we can defeat that bastard!”

Looking at the ground, Vicente stays quiet for a moment. “Okay. But if we do… who’s going to vanish?”

Hoaqin hesitates. “H-huh? What do you mean by that? We’re one, but many! It’s not like one lives and the other disappears! All we want is to be the perfect sword!”

“No.” Vicente states. “It’s only been you. You were the one living as a perfect sword. More than one soul cannot be awake in one body, so the others were asleep.”

Hoaqin’s lips twitch into a snarl, eyes glancing over to you, who was now next to the crocodile. By the time he was looking back to Vicente, he had continued to speak. “After we split, and got sealed in that unstable condition, I realized. I wasn’t awake for all of the years you climbed. It was only you, claiming the throne, and using our powers.”

Hoaqin grits his teeth.

“It’s my turn now, Hoaqin. I’ll be the next slayer, and I’ll cut off our father’s head, and make him look back at me.”

“So, if you want to be awake, do you plan on eating me or something?!” Hoaqin laughs, jumping into the air. “Cut the crap!”

“Daniel, take out the small fry!” He orders, Daniel readying his abilities as the crocodile by your side rushes forward, meeting him in the middle.

A large explosion rings out in the center, Hoaqin and Vicente having struck each other’s blades.

Hoaqin begins to shout at the other boy, you watching passively as Wangnan rushes forward with the knife he had threatened you with, striking Vicente through the heart. He vanishes right after, Hoaqin’s eyes wide. “He vanished? What the hell did you do, blondie?!”

“Yihwa, burn ‘em all!” He shouts, charging away as the flames explode. He was followed by the others, you slightly disappointed by not being able to get the crocodile’s name. He seemed interesting.

Hoaqin cuts through the flame, bolting forwards before getting stopped as the path shifts, obscuring the retreating group from view.

“Damn it! I was so close!” Hoaqin shouts, slashing at the new wall and scarring it. Walking over, you place a hand on his shoulder, him looking back (and up) at you. “Y/N...“

He sighs angrily. “Well, at least I got you back. Still, I was so damn close! That yellow guy just took him and ran!” He grumbles, grabbing your hand as he steps away and striding forward, you following without resistance. He turns down a hall, trailed by the normal group of evil-doers that followed him. “At this rate, how can I become one?!”

“Calm down, Hoaqin. Let’s go to the test, we need to get to the next floor anyway.” Daniel suggests.

He clicks his tongue, continuing down the hall.

"Wait, Rachel." Her head perks up as Hoaqin speaks, him still holding your hand. "Do you happen to know where the other copies are?"

You glance back at the blonde woman, her nodding. "A-ah, Emily knows where they were sealed, but they all seem to have gotten out…"

He huffs. “So, locating them exactly is out of the question, huh?”

She nods again. “Unfortunately, it seems so…”

“Then who let them out…?” He mumbles, head lifting as a young girl’s voice calls his name. “What?”

You turn before he does, releasing his hand in order to approach her, tilting your head as you crouch down in front of her. You glance over your shoulder as Hoaqin jogs over, soon facing the girl again.

“Anna?! Is that you?” Hoaqin asks, her slowly nodding as she looks at him, soon refocusing on you.

“Who are you?”

“Me? Well… I’m Y/N.” You answer, mindlessly scratching your head as you stand up once more, looking down as Anna grabs the edge of your sleeve, her other arm still wrapped around her rabbit plushie.

Hmm… every Hoaqin piece seems to like you. You’re like a Hoaqin whisperer.

Hoaqin grabs your hand once more, pulling you and Anna along.

“Why does she get to ride on your back?” Hoaqin pouts, you sending him an amused glance.

“She asked.”

Anna was on your back as you continued your trek, sound asleep while you carried her bunny for her. Looking around the group, you noticed the missing man, saying nothing.

“Any idea of how close we are to the match?” You ask, Rachel answering.

“About a week away. We still have a bit of traveling to do, so we’ll probably make it just in time.”

You hum. “That’s good to hear.”

Hoaqin glances up at your peaceful face, wondering. You seemed more expressive since getting out of that room. It was still rather rare for you to show emotion, but you seemed less lifeless and more just unemotional. It wasn’t as worrisome to see your expression never move, as the face it never moved from was warmer.

That was another thing he noticed…

You were a rather warm person.

When describing how you were in your past, you portrayed yourself as a workaholic who was cold and uncaring, but this present view of you seemed to be diverging from that path. Now, even if only through your eyes, you showed something. Before, you had slept so much it felt like he never got to see your eyes, but now you were awake. You were doing something, you were tagging along with him, you were helping one of his pieces. Quite frankly, he couldn’t wait to become whole once again, because as he had told you countless times, you would be his.

He wants your smile, your frown, your expressions, your emotion. He wants to see it all, He wants to have it all.

He wants you.

Every bit of you.

He just needs to become one.

Approaching a sudden drop to an arena with Anna still practically attached to your hip, Hoaqin was… also practically attached to your hip. He wasn’t holding your hand, though.

“It seems like Jue Viole Grace has yet to show himself.” Hoaqin states. “Let’s hope he doesn’t chicken out.”

You yawn, rubbing your neck with your free hand as you observe the large arena

“Did that bastard really run?”

“Hah! As if Viole would be afraid of a kid like you. Watch what you say.” Wangnan calls, from another entrance. “Even if it’s not Viole, we’ll beat you!”

Hoaqin gawks at the other team. “Vicente! Seriously?! You teamed up with those weaklings?! How far are you willing to go to beat me?!”

Your eyes fall to the girl at your side, who seems slightly conflicted as she stares at another one of her brothers.

Suddenly, you look up, feeling a surge in Shinsu a moment before it strikes down onto the center platform like lightning. A small group of people appears, including that red guide you had met a bit ago before Hoaqin dragged you away from her.

“That’s Viole…” Hoaqin mumbles… a frown on his face.

“Is Viole the black-haired one?” You ask, Hoaqin nodding.

“Now Anna; that guy, Viole? He’s our enemy.”

Anna finally separates from you as she follows Hoaqin’s lead in standing at the edge of the hall, looking down at them. “As always, a loud entrance, Jue Viole Grace.” He laughs. “I almost thought you were chickening out! I can respect your courage. Still, you’ll soon regret your decision to stay.”

Right as he finished, Vicente’s group began to shout at the new arrivals, filled with 'welcome back's and a shout of betrayal from the crocodile.

Everyone went quiet as the man floating above the arena where Viole stood began to speak. He seemed to be the moderator.

"Now that the participating Regulars have gathered, we'll begin the event." He pauses for a moment, seemingly gathering his voice. "Hell Train Stage 4! The fight for the title of Slayer Nominee! A deathmatch! The test for this floor will be-"

The screen behind him shows a golden coin, the words 'Dallar Show!' scrawled beneath in a swirly handwriting. "The Dallar Show!" He finishes.

You stare up as he continues explaining the game, uncaring to its history and relation to the 10 Great Families. In your experience, most of their kin were stuck-up and snobbish. They were the ones you gave up on approaching to form teams.

The Arie in front of you was… not prideful in his family so much as his own abilities, which, to be fair, did hold up.

"This test will have 3 rounds, with each consecutive round needing you to use the Dallars you earned in the previous! You can see this as a point-saving type of game!"

You hum, looking at Viole's group. Viole himself seemed to be the strongest of them, if his entrance meant anything, but he had a serious case of baby face that made you doubt his ability to kill.

“Every regular will have Dallars given to them, and their teams sum will equal the opposing team's. Wangnan and Viole's groups will be merged and counted as one. The first round will take place here."

You continue to ignore him, still uncaring of the rules, only zoning back in as the Dallar on screen began to spin, glowing a bright white that blotted out your vision. Falling coins then came to your sight, and you got one marked with a 2.

"Let's begin the first round! The reward for this is 15 Dallars, and due to it being the first round, only two from each team will participate! If you have 10 Dallars, step up!"

You obviously didn't have it, but it appears Rachel and the dog guy did. You never really spoke to him enough to care about learning his name, but Rachel seemed to want to talk to you a lot. Thankfully, Hoaqin was there to be jealous and pull you away from her.

There was just… something off about that girl.

“Let’s begin the first round! 10 Dallar Regulars, please get down to the stadium!”

As they do so, Anna steps back to pull you forward, sitting down on the edge with her legs swinging over it, you joining her. Hoaqin sits on your other side, looking over the roster for the battle.

“We aren’t going to win this one.” You proclaim, Hoaqin raising an eyebrow.

“What makes you say so?”

“The woman with candy; look at how she’s muttering and glaring at the dog guy. She’ll go after him, and I doubt this battle will just be as simple as catching a little fish, which Rachel doesn’t seem to realize. I can sense its Shinsu, and it's compressed. The blue guy knows what he’s doing; he’s probably the second most dangerous after Viole, just based on his intelligence. His posture is completely relaxed, confident. Even if Rachel knows that the fish isn’t just a guppy, she’ll have no chance to catch it; her lighthouses aren’t strong enough.” You explain, Hoaqin’s expression growing impressed.

“Hmm… you make a strong point. Let’s see how this goes.”

The moment the battle begins, the candy lady launches at the dog guy, and the blue guy begins to speak to Rachel, allowing her a chance to catch the fish. You gently shake your head, laying back. “This battle was over before it even started.”

Hoaqin would admit; he was impressed. Your quick, accurate deductions weren’t something that just anyone could do. You were smart, that much was clear.

“Hmph. Pathetic.” He watches as the suddenly enlarged fish flies up, its roar echoing as it focuses on the one who fished it out, beginning its descent in order to swallow her whole.

It was stopped by the Khun, whose lighthouses swung around it, catching it in an invisible prison. He says a few words to her collapsed form, her fists clenching against the floor.

“Khun Aguero Agnes caught the Sweetfish! The round goes to Viole Grace’s team! All participating Regulars, please return to your teams!”

After a brief pause, the participants returned to the hall, you having stood up with your Hoaqins doing the same. Hoaqin’s eyes trail after Rachel as she passes, ignoring the dog guy. “It was an interesting match. You’ve shown how pathetic you are, and it really makes me wonder… just how did you get up here? I suppose I should’ve been more careful when designating you as a useful one.”

His vague smile grows more into a sneer, one only she could see. “Don’t even think of participating in any more matches. You won’t be anywhere near me in battle unless you want to be missing a limb.” The threat was clear. He was trying to keep her from the one person Hoaqin had been around for so long, someone whose abilities she was doing her best to gauge.

You.

Her golden eyes meet yours for a moment, quickly looking away. Your eyebrow raises as you stare at her back, your gaze then shifting to the white boy at your side, his normal cocky grin on his lips.

Your attention is drawn back to the arena momentarily as a 20 minute break is announced, you taking the chance to lean against the wall and sit down. Your group broke off into smaller pairs, Hoaqin’s pieces gravitating in your direction. You close your eyes as Anna sits down next to you, leaning into your side. You don’t react any further as Hoaqin joins you both, laying his head in your lap.

And with that, you took a small nap, at least until the platform you were on started to move. You got the Hoaqins off of you and stood up as the floor slid away from the walls, everything beginning to shift as a cage with hostages came into view, hanging above you. Pipes filled the area, twisting and coiling around the empty space, surrounding a brightly glowing core that seemingly beat, thrumming with life.

“Welcome!” The announcer, moderator guy calls out. “This is the stage for the second round!”

You peeked over the edge, watching the core with dull fascination. It reminded you much of a human heart, its steady pulses copying the rhythm. Mesmerizing…

You lift your head as you end up in a pipe. “Huh. That was sudden.”

Looking around, you don’t see anyone near you. “Well. This blows.”

Sighing, you begin to walk in the direction of where you sensed Hoaqin and Anna’s Shinsu.

Then you sensed Vicente’s Shinsu.

Then you sensed another signature, similar to the other pieces of the whole.

It was weird, to be fully honest, and you didn’t think about it too much as you flipped and spun your Dallar, continuing to walk. Staring at the ceiling as you meander forwards, you come to a stop as the pieces’ Shinsu vanishes, the hair on the back of your neck standing as a cold wave of power hits you, its center being Hoaqin.

“Did he actually…?” You mumble, looking down the dark pipe. “I should probably pick up my pace…” Humming, you begin to run, brows furrowed. “It doesn’t seem like he’s fully one, as his power isn’t too overwhelming, but I could guess he got the three that I sensed.” You speak, organizing your thoughts. “Then where’s the last-” You come to a stop as a girl floats in front of you.

“-one. Are you the last sibling?” You ask, her floating in a circle around you, observing.

“I’m impressed you figured it out so quick. Yes, I am.” She smiles, moving closer to you. “I can see why Hoaqin and the others found you so interesting.”

“Really, because I can’t.” You sigh. “It’s been nice meeting you, but Hoaqin just ate his other siblings and I doubt it’ll be long ‘til he sees you. You seem strong though.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you. But I’m afraid it wouldn’t be wise to leave just yet. Hoaqin and Jue Viole Grace have just met again. It’s not safe for you.”

You stretch your neck. “If I’m confident in one thing, it’s my defense. Nothing has been able to penetrate it since the 20th floor, but if you say it’s unsafe, I suppose I’ll listen.” You sit down again, her landing in front of you and sitting on her knees.

“This battle won’t last for very long, but I’ll bring you straight to the core afterwards.”

“Oh, good. Hoaqin probably wouldn’t be too happy if I up and disappeared again. Well, if I stayed gone.”

“Are you ever gonna call him his Slayer name?” She asks, tilting her head.

“Did he ever mention his Slayer name…? I can’t remember. I’ll probably just call him Hoaqin until he tells me to call him otherwise.”

“Do you even know it?”

“Can’t remember, so I guess no.”

“It’s White.”

“White, huh? I guess it fits him, considering his Arie heritage and freakishly pale skin.”

She giggles, standing up. “Alright, It’s time to go.”

“Already? I guess sitting down was useless then…” You sigh, getting up.

She dusts off her skirt, holding her hand out. “Do I just, uh…” You mumble, her rolling her eyes and grabbing your hand as your vision gets enveloped by a bright light.

The next thing you knew, you were standing in front of a large group, with Jue Viole Grace walking in as everyone turns to face you, alarmed. “Huh. She moved me to the wrong place I guess.”

The Khun walks up to you, lighthouses menacingly floating behind him as he stares you down. “Who are you, and what are you doing in our area?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N. I met Hoaqin’s last piece and she moved me here instead of to the other place. I’m not here to cause a fight, I never really wanted to be part of this entire thing anyway.” You drawl. “Before you ask, I was with Hoaqin because I was sealed in the same room before him, so I got to know him over the 600 years we were in there.”

Khun hums, beginning to do some digging.

“White’s last clone?” Viole asks, running up.

“Yep. She seemed pretty powerful.”

“You are the blank turtle I saw!” The crocodile shouts.

“And you’re the compressed dragon-lookin’ guy.”

He huffs happily. “Dragon! That’s what they should call me! I like you, Blank Turtle!”

“Hm? Did you say something, crocodile?” Khun asks, looking up.

“Blue Turtle, one day I will hunt you down and kill you!”

Your lips twitch up, a small smile on your face as you watch Viole try to calm down his squabbling team. Khun’s eyes widen as he finishes his searches, your face already back to its blank slate as he looks up.

“You’re known as Y/N, the Cursed.”

“Sounds about right.” You sigh, sitting down.

“It’s believed that you made a pact with a demon in order to gain the ultimate defense, and it kills all your teammates as a sacrifice.”

“Now that’s wrong. If I had a pact with a demon that killed my teammates, Hoaqin would be dead.” You bluntly refute.

“Well now I kinda wish you did.” Khun shrugs, ignoring Rak's complaints about how cool your nickname sounded.

“This last match will be a one-on-one, so I doubt my team-killer status will be of much effect. Actually, I want to test something; Dragon, that spear of yours is a special throwing spear, right?”

Khun’s eyes stay on you. How did you figure that out?

“Well… decompress and throw it at me as hard as you can. I want to see how much my defenses have improved.”

You could sense the flow of Shinsu in that spear, with its main flow points being from the grip and from the bottom, with a more concentrated amount at the bottom as compared to normal throwing spears.

“Yes! I will do my best to annihilate you!” He cheers, decompressing and jumping back as Khun holds Viole back from getting involved. The other group members make the wise decision to not interfere at all.

Reeling his arm back, Rak soon launches it towards you, the spear flying at you at an impressive speed. Dust kicks up around it as it flies at you, obscuring you from view as it impacts with the sound of something ripping.

It goes silent for a few seconds, only to be interrupted by your monotone voice. “Damnit. I wasn’t thinking about how it would affect my clothes.”

You sigh, stepping back into view with a top that was essentially a crop top, and a small one at that. You toss the spear back over to Rak, thanking him and ignoring everyone else’s stares as you begin to converse with the rather dumb lizard.

Your torso was littered with scars from before you became an impenetrable shield, still having done your best to block attacks from hitting any of your teammates. It didn’t matter in the end, they all died anyway, but you still tried as hard as you could to protect them, even as fate clawed their souls to the afterlife.

You knew it was useless, and that they would die, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to either betray the promise to the Lightbearer or give up on trying to defend those who joined you.

It was a pitiful existence, really.

Getting sealed was the first time that you felt as if maybe, just maybe, you had helped your team. You really did hope they survived, and yet you couldn’t help but doubt. If they were your teammates, were they truly cursed to die early?

You didn’t know.

#hoaqin #hoaqin x reader #tower of god #tower of god x reader #arie hoaqin #hoaquin #white x reader #white #tog #yandere tower of god #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral #khun #rak #jue viole grace

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basilships · 3 years

Text

i missed my anniversary with billy (it was jan 26) so here's an old bit of writing for your favourite ghosts! four (billy) is from the netflix movie 6 underground

765 words, fluff (slight angst) under the cut <3

“You know what I noticed?” Billy asked, and when Matty only hummed, he rolled onto his side to see Matty’s eyes closed. “Blaine sounds like his grandma would've said shit like ‘crick’. That type of American accent. I’ve never heard him say ‘creek’, though, so I’m not proven wrong. D’you think he’d say crick or creek?”

“Mhm,” Matty nodded. Billy moved a little closer to him, wrapping his arm around his waist.

“You’re not listening are you?” He smiled and kissed Matty’s forehead. Matty tried to protest, but it faded into soft mumbling and then quickly into silence. Billy shook his head. “It’s okay, peaches. Do you mind if I keep talking?”

Matty laughed, and Billy could just barely make out, “You called me peaches,” and he was dazzled by how soft his husband’s face was, how relaxed and at rest he was.

“I’ll do it again if you like it. I was also thinking about sweet pea, angel eyes, sugar lips,” he stared at Matty, studying his face careful. He had a soft, Mona Lisa smile, but nearly every line on his face was gone. He looked younger, certainly, and just… content. When he didn't respond, Billy just kept talking.

“You’ve gotta forgive me for staying up,” he mumbled, “I've been having bad dreams lately, about all sorts of things, but mostly my old crew. I know that the ghosts aren't anything like them, but…” he looked up at the ceiling, moving onto his back.

“I’m worried, I guess. I should've fallen to my death. She was letting me fall to my death, and One has left me for dead before. I’m scared. And it doesn't feel good to say these things out loud, I don’t like talking about my feelings,” he sighed. Matty had opened his eyes, forcing himself back to consciousness to listen to his husband.

“I’ve been sacrificed before. My first crew, only two of ‘em stuck around, but they let me get arrested twice. I’m a good guy, so I didn't give ‘em up, I’m not a narc, but… they left me. I needed help getting out of the window because it was poorly planned, and instead of taking my hand, they ran. All of ‘em,” Billy squeezed his eyes shut, “The crew I was with in Kiev, they did something like that. I didn't get caught, but they left me there. I should've fucking known she’d let me fall.”

Billy rubbed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop himself from tearing up, “And I get scared that you’ll do that. It's unfounded and selfish but I keep having dreams where you let me fall, and I’m begging for you to grab my hand, and you just stare at me. I have dreams where I’m trying to crawl to you and you let someone kick me and try to kill me. I hate it. I know you wouldn't— I hope you wouldn't. I love you and I don't want to be a clown for it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just anxious and sad, or some shit,” Billy rolled onto his side, staring into Matty’s blue eyes and then pausing. How embarrassing. He was awake.

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s okay, baby,” Matty whispered, “You’ve been through a lot. You've been betrayed before, it’s okay to be scared. I wouldn't ever do that. I promise you, I will always do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Billy smiled, knowing his eyes were filling with tears, and he let Matty hold him, playing with his hair sweetly, “That’s unfair. I thought you were asleep.”

“Well, I think I was, but I heard my husband talking and he didn't sound happy, so I woke up,” he kissed Billy’s forehead, “But I did hear you call me ‘peaches’.”

“Do you like it?” Billy asked, looking up at Matty again, studying his face; he looked different now than he did just moments ago.

“Yeah. I think it’s cute, it just doesn't have anything to do with us. I’m not from Georgia or something,” Matty shrugged and snuggled up with Billy in his arms, sighing as he got comfortable.

“Well, peaches are juicy and sweet and have soft skin and they're my favourite fruit. You’re juicy and sweet and you have soft skin and you're my favourite person,” Billy explained. He really thought it through.

“I thought you were going to say I was your favourite fruit for a second, and I was like, ‘come on, I know you listen to Elton John,’” Matty joked, kissing the top of Billy’s head, “It’s cute. I like it. I like you."

"I like you too," Billy grinned.

#four tag #my post #my writing #6 underground #// mutuals ok to reblog #we've been gay married for a year!!

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

Text

Shackled - Ch 12

Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.

WARNINGS CHANGE EACH CHAPTER, PLEASE CHECK EACH TIME.

Warning: implied loss of family, grieving, depression, cursing, mention of emotional manipulation/mind fuckery/psychological manipulation, emotional exhaustion, depression

Word Count: 2945

Author’s Note: You made it this far; thanks for sticking with me! I can’t tell you how lovely everyone has been throughout posting this story. I’m going to hopefully start posting my next story “Walk Me Home” sometime within the next week, so if you’d like a tag, let me know. I’ll be posting the preview again tonight. Thank you all for lovely words and flailing, and here’s hoping I’ll see you again at the next story.

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 for all the flailing. It means so much to me, I don’t have enough or proper words. @cracksinthewalls , you kept me going, you kept this story going. Like. Babe. Seriously. @thoughtslikeaminefield , I would have no Dean stories without you, probably would not have even entered the fandom without you. This story was first and foremost for you, and it’s only right the last thanks on it be for you.

I love you all.

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

In case you missed it:

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11

Masterlist

Chapter 12

Miriam swam back to consciousness as gentle fingers probed her face. The pain flared once, a bright flame that consumed every cell of her body before extinguishing all at once. She gasped, her lungs unrestricted and easy, and grabbed at the closest thing she could reach. Her wrists were whole again, functional, and she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and wild as fear shot through her gut. Strong arms, for some reason clad in a tan trench coat, supported her as her head swam crazily.

“Miriam, I presume. I’ve got you, everything’s alright now. Dean is cured. You’re safe.” She looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity and strength there. She nodded slowly, willing her heart rate to calm. She took slow, measured breaths until the spinning stopped.

“Miriam!” Then Sam was in the doorway, rushing over to help her up, Dean following closely behind. What with Sam and the other man already pulling Miriam to her feet, Dean stood a safe distance away, unsure of his reception.

Miriam thought this wise of him.

She wobbled unsteadily long enough that Sam insisted on taking her back to her room to rest. She was too wiped out to argue and gladly accepted his support. She glanced back at Dean as Sam led her from the room, and she was startled at the depth of sorrow and pain she saw there.

Then she turned the corner with Sam and realized the pull she felt from Dean, that insatiable hunger for the darkness, was almost completely gone.

Almost.

…

Miriam lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, resolutely ignoring Sam’s instructions to sleep. Though she doubted she’d have any new visits from the demon, she could feel her other nightmares waiting at the edge of her consciousness, with a few new additions from her recent misadventures with the Winchesters to add a little spice to the mix.

A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her miserable reverie, and she sat up slowly. She wasn’t in pain, the angel (Castiel, Sam had explained) had healed her completely, but she was unsteady with exhaustion and shock.

“Come in, Dean,”

He entered hesitantly, still unsure of his welcome. He’d showered, shaved, and changed into a t-shirt, sweats, and a gray bathrobe. She had to admit he looked a lot better for it. Considering how appealing she thought he’d looked before, that was saying something.

They studied each other for a long moment, seeing each other as they really were for the first time in nearly a decade. Dean still stood tall and firm, wearing his “comfy clothes” better than most models wore a suit, but she could see the weight of the world dragging at his shoulders, staining his expression with grief and regret.

But there was less ferocity to him now. He’d lost the feral hunger, the malevolence of his earlier presence that had drawn her in so strongly. She’d never call Dean Winchester soft, not in a thousand years, but this Dean, the real human Dean, was appealing to her in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite everything that had happened, he still exuded a sense of strength and confidence that had little to do with his appearance and more to do with a natural gravity that spoke of protection and safety rather than danger and oblivion.

Then again, she thought, maybe I can just see the light on the other side of the darkness now. Maybe that said something good for the both of them.

But it hurt, looking into that light. Looking away from the darkness without shielding herself meant admitting that life without Aaron wasn’t just possible, that it was necessary.

She’d taken care of him for so long, leaned on him without realizing she was doing so. Now her universe was off-balance in the worst way, vertigo without promise of reprieve. Every day felt like freefall, and she hated that swooping sensation that tore through her gut whenever she opened her eyes and realized he wasn’t just one bed over.

But he was gone. And she wasn’t.

And now she had to decide what she was going to do with those facts, because she couldn’t continue her dim, half-existence anymore, no matter how much easier it was than facing an Aaron-less life.

And right now, in this moment, that meant addressing her own personal ex-demon.

Miriam offered him a half-smile and indicated the chair by her bedside. He wavered, his jaw working as his frown deepened, but she let him have his internal debate without interruption. After a moment, he made up his mind and sat heavily in the chair, elbows resting on the arms, hands dangling over his lap. He glared down at his socked feet as if angry they weren’t supplying him with the right conversation starter.

“How are you feeling?”

He started at her question and turned incredulous eyes on her, mouth gaping.

“How am I feeling? I nearly killed you, and you’re worried about...Miriam, god, I...I…”

“I know,” she said. He dropped his face into his palms, fingers digging hard into his forehead. His hands strained, veins standing out starkly under his skin, and her heart broke for him.

Dean was a good hunter, a good brother, a good man. He’d been seized by a literal demon, and if anyone besides possession victims could understand that, maybe even forgive it, it was Miriam. And, miracle of miracles, for once she knew the right thing to do.

She arranged her pillow behind her and reclined. Then she lifted the covers, opened her arms, and cleared her throat.

“Come here.”

He looked up at her with red, confused eyes. He straightened up and opened his mouth, and she knew he was about to refuse, say something manly or defensive, or both. She beat him to the punch.

“We are both done, Dean. I’ve got nothing left. I hurt you, you hurt me, we both did horrible things. Now is not the time to make comparison lists of sins. We’ve got tomorrow to tear ourselves new ones. Answer me one question right now, and you’d damned well better tell me the truth.”

He nodded slowly, watching her with wary eyes.

“Aren’t you tired, Dean?”

He stared hard at her, waiting for something else, maybe a rebuke or an insult, but when he realized she was finished, he sat for a moment, thinking. Then his shoulders slumped, and he scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

“Exhausted,” he finally answered.

She nodded.

“Then take your damned robe off and get over here. And keep your hands where I can see them, sir.”

Turns out, Dean Winchester wasn’t too bad at following directions, once properly motivated.

Dean fit into her shoulder with the perfection of a worn-out child cradled in trusted arms. As his face relaxed, Miriam thought she saw the briefest glimpse of that sweet, carefree little boy in his smiling mother’s arms.

Something tugged loose in her chest, and she knew then she’d done the right thing by coming here, no matter the damage she’d sustained. She glanced across the room to see Aaron staring back from the mirror. A tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

“I love you,” she said. She meant so much more, and she knew Aaron understood that.

Dean shifted in her arms, murmuring something on the edge of dozing, and his frown returned. She moved automatically to smooth her thumb over his furrowed brow, massage the anxious crease that had formed between his eyes. Still drowsing, he nuzzled closer, his freshly shaven cheek sliding over her collarbone. Unable to resist, she pressed her nose to the crown of his head, inhaling softly.

Miriam had done a few hunting jobs in the Northwest, near the coast, and she’d fallen in love with the forests there. Unbelievably tall trees, disappearing upwards until you almost fell over backwards trying to see the tops. Damp and lush, there was a green, mossy smell that hung in the air and mingled with traces of fresh earth and mist.

Dean smelled as if he’d just stepped out from under those trees. Clean, a hint of cedar, and something warm and spicy. She hesitated, a new kind of want blooming in her chest as she held him close, reveling in his solid heat. She pressed a kiss to his temple and smiled when he curled tighter into her embrace.

“Hands where I can see ‘em, missy,” he murmured, eyes still closed. His arm slid under hers until it curled protectively around her back. “Sleep, Miri. I’ve got you.”

She took a deep breath, and settled into the exhale, resting her cheek against his damp hair.

Yeah, she thought, a welcome lethargy spreading through her thoughts. You do.

…

“Sure you don’t want to rest another day or two?” Sam asked. She didn’t have to look up from her packing to know his face was lined with concern. Dean leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, pretending he didn’t want to say the exact same thing.

“Sorry, Sam, another day of rabbit food, and I might starve. Gotta get some meat before I waste away. Dean, you’re welcome to come with if you aren’t worried about ruining your girlish figure.”

Dean barked a laugh from the doorway, and Miriam straightened up in time to see him wipe the smile off his face under the heat of Sam’s stern glare. She grinned, and Dean winked.

“Gonna go pull your car around. Meet you out front?” Without waiting for an answer, Dean straightened and nodded, disappearing from view.

“You really could stay a little longer,” Sam repeated, his voice low and earnest. For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed small, diminished by worry and uncertainty. Dark circles stood out starkly under his eyes, and his entreating smile was probably the weakest she’d ever seen it.

“Sam, I-” she paused, hesitating, then closed the space between them, reached up, and pulled him into a full hug. After a moment, Sam’s good arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her tight against his chest as his head bent down, his nose resting on top of her head. She held him close, waiting for Sam to pull away when he was ready.

“I can’t,” she murmured into his hair. “Not right now. It’s too fresh. I need to...deal with it. Actually deal with it,” she added as he leaned back far enough to give her a sharp look. She noticed he didn’t pull completely away from their embrace, though.

“I’m going to figure some things out, I promise. Again, you strong, heroic men didn’t magically fix my issues. But maybe you gave me the push I needed to do that for myself.”

“You’re welcome back here anytime,” Sam said. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and stepped back, releasing her. He gazed down at her face for a moment, and she could see he was choosing his next words carefully.

“I’m glad you’re going to...deal with it. I get what you’re working through. Not that I’m a paragon of mental health, but I’ve been there. A couple of times. If you ever want or need to talk about everything that happened, about anything at all, you can call me.”

Miriam felt a mischievous smile stretching across her face. “Everything? Well, Sam, when you were gone, there was this one thing that Dean did in one of my nightmares that-”

“Not everything!” Sam yelped, and she laughed, feeling the ever-present knot in her chest loosen just a little more. He chuckled, shaking his head, and squeezed her hand.

“Don’t lose my number, Miriam. I’ve...We’ve got your back.”

…

“Sure you don’t want to stay for another round of Sam’s ‘queen-wah’ salad?” Dean smirked. His green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and she was surprised at the pleasurable twinge she felt upon receiving that smile.

“Get your ass off my car, Winchester,” she ordered, feigning exasperation. He pushed up from the hood and opened the back door, lifting the duffel from her hands and tossing it in the back seat.

“Where ya headed?” Dean asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. He stared at the ground between them, and she couldn’t help but smile. After all they’d been through, even after chastely sharing a bed for the last three nights, she felt awkward around him, too, though both were too stubborn to admit it aloud.

“Maybe Washington state or Oregon, check out some of the rainforests. The couple of times we had jobs over that way, walking around under all those giant trees made my issues seem pretty small. Could help me put some things in perspective. Anyway, I’ve got some time off saved up. I think I’ve earned a real vacation.”

He finally met her eyes, and the corner of his mouth turned up. He took a step closer.

“Yeah? Sounds pretty...majestic.” He dodged her blow easily, grinning. “I’m kidding. Some time off sounds pretty damn good, come to think of it. Don’t really remember what that’s like. It’s one disaster after another around here.”

“I kinda got that feeling,” Miriam said, pushing the back door shut. She stepped up to him, holding her arms open in invitation. Though he still hesitated, in the end, he relented and allowed her to pull him into a close hug that sent little flutters through her stomach. Just as she started to pull back, Dean’s arms tightened, holding her against his chest.

“We both need to take some time,” she said quietly. He nodded, turning his face inwards, pressing his lips to her temple. “We’ve got a lot of baggage to sort through and shit to deal with and other metaphors about mentally healing. Darkness to yank out by the roots and all that.”

He pulled back, his face drawn with concern. “Miriam, I need you to know. Those dreams you had, I didn’t...I could see them all whenever you came inside the trap.” His complexion darkened, and if she didn’t know better, Miriam would have thought Dean was actually blushing.

“But I didn’t send them to you. When you were outside the dungeon, outside the devil’s trap, I couldn’t do that.”

She nodded slowly, feeling some of the sunlight's warmth leeching away. She’d come to that conclusion herself, after listening to some conversations over the last couple of days between the boys and their guardian angel.

“I know. And that’s something I’m going to have to work through. There’s darkness in me, and it really, really liked the darkness I found in you.”

They both glanced significantly down at his right arm, their eyes drawn to the dark, ugly mark, before looking up again.

“I just...wanted it to be easy, like you, the demon you, said. I was, I am so tired, and I just wanted to be done.” She could say the words now, as she couldn’t say them only days ago.

Such a simple thing to say, she thought, and I had to nearly die to admit it.

“Awfully strong drug for any hunter,” Dean agreed, and though she hated that he knew the feeling well enough to understand, part of her was not-so-secretly glad that for the first time in months, she no longer felt alone in her pain.

“But I can work through it. And I think you can, too. I have no clue how, for either of us, but I’m willing to work on it if you are.”

He nodded slowly, and his eyes flicked to her lips for just a moment before his eyebrows raised questioningly. He looked ready to be rejected, braced for her dismissal, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a single decent reason to do so.

This time, the only pull she felt was Dean’s arms drawing her closer.

The kiss was soft, simple, and sweet. His hands, scarred and so gentle, slid over her jaw, threading into her hair. He tilted her face to the side, finding a better angle for both of them, and her hands found their way to his waist, tugging him further into her space. After a moment, they broke apart. Dean’s eyes were still closed as she stretched up to kiss his forehead.

“We can work on that, too,” Miriam said. Dean licked his lips, swallowed, and nodded as he straightened. They released their hold on each other reluctantly, and Miriam slid into the driver’s seat before she did something irrational like change her mind.

She cranked the car, stared out the windshield, and sighed. She had to go, needed some time and space to work through her thankfully no-longer-literal demons, but…

She really wanted to come back.

“Hey, Dean,” she said suddenly. He dropped a hand to the hood of her car, leaning down so he could see her through the open window. “You like cowboy movies?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You ever seen The Quick and the Dead?”

His face transformed from sad to wondering to glee in less than a second. “Wild West shootout, Sharon Stone at her hottest, Gene Hackman at his bad ass-est?”

Miriam giggled. “That’s not a word, but yeah. Got a copy?”

“No, but I can get one.”

She smiled, feeling warm and light down to her toes. “Give me a month or two, try to take some time off yourself. Call me when you’ve got a copy of the movie, and maybe we can have a movie night. I’ll bring the popcorn.”

The warmth of the kiss he brushed across her cheek lingered for hours.

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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 9 - "stay"

Season 9, episodes 23/24 "Angels" and "Demons" (the ones where Reid gets shot in the neck *cries*, while the team are chasing a guy - a preacher, to be precise - who was framed by the unsub. In the episode they will eventually find the real unsub)

Long ass one. Idk what nerve drives me to call these fics "shots" when most of em are +4000 words. Note: Reid always has long hair in my fics, regardless of the season I took inspiration from

As per usual: edited this months after I first wrote it. My fics are perennial works in progress

Read it on AO3

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

"Blake!! " Morgan screamed with all his voice, running toward her and Reid as fast as he could - considering he got shot - pressing a hand on his wounded bicep.

One of his ears was beeping because of the gun shots - 3 out of 4 bullets hit his vest - and he was feeling light-headed from the fall. Not to mention the pain his arm was causing him. But in that moment, it was like his body had forgotten about the soreness and discomfort because his mind was only focused on Reid- no, Spencer. His Spencer.

"Blake-" he called her again, now that he'd got just a few feet from them.

He quickly fell down to his knees and put his hand on Spencer's neck, replacing Alex's. She moved aside without protesting, still sitting on the ground.

"I- I'm- I'm so sorry." she hiccuped on the verge of crying, shaking her head to dizziness while she looked down at her bloody hand; not sure if she was apologizing to Spencer or to Derek.

Morgan didn't answer, but not because he thought it was her fault: how could he? They all would take a bullet - and had taken bullets - to save each other. There was simply no time for apologies in that moment.

"We need an ambulance!" she repeated to her radio transceiver, even though at least 10 minutes had passed since she had first called for help.

"Alright- kid, you gotta stay with me now" Derek ordered, breathing heavily.

Despite the other's pleads, Spencer had almost completely lost consciousness; his mouth hung open, his eyes suddenly rolled back.

"No, nonono no" Derek panted loudly. "Baby please don't-"

His pupils desperately roamed his peripherals, searching for something with which he could pat Spencer's wound to minimize the blood loss, since clearly his hand wasn't enough.

"W-what do you need?" Alex asked, seeing Derek looking around aimlessly; but he seemed too spaced out to answer. "Talk to me Morgan, how can I help?!"

"I-I need something to pat the wound, I don't know some kind of cloth-" he said, panic possessing him.

The only thing Alex could think of, without having to go too far and waste anymore time, was Spencer's tie. She messily reached over, managing to snatch it from underneath his vest - though not without struggling - and untying it. She then slid it out of the collar of Spencer's button-up and folded it, having the hardest time accomplishing even such simple tasks with how bad her hands were shaking. She handed it to Morgan who, without complaining or questioning, placed it on the wound and started pressing again.

Spencer was slowly slipping on the ground from his half-sitting position, with his back leaning on one of the SUVs. Derek wrapped his free, not injured arm around him from under his armpit as securely as he could, and tried to lift him up a little, to help him breathe. He did his best, straining against his own pain and the pressure he had to keep applying on the other man's wound.

Luckily, that was enough to bring him back. Spencer swallowed intensely and gasped, before starting to mumble incomprehensibly. Derek kept both his hands firmly wrapped around his neck, to try and keep his head from hanging on either side.

"Ok this is good, keep your eyes on m- hey, eyes on me" he kept saying, trying to keep him awake; once, twice, dozens of times again and again and again like a mantra; only rearranging the words slightly each time; calling his name - Spencer, kid, baby, stay with me, don't, please, I need you here, come on-

Wait. Stop. Spencer looked like he was trying to say something.

"What? What is it, kid? Talk to me, say whatever- just whatever stay awake for me please" Derek begged him, his voice starting to get too shaky to handle. The ambulance hadn't arrived yet but, even though he had lost a lot of blood, Reid managed to stay somewhat conscious, which must have been a good sign: Morgan thought, trying not to let his mind go to dark places.

"I-" Spencer started to say something, then coughed.

He coughed blood. Everything Derek had been thinking to try and keep his hopes high went to nothing.

Derek started to feel sick. Sick like all the organs in his body were stuck in a million tight knots; and his lungs seemed slowly filling up with cement; and his eyes felt as if an uncountable number of needles were piercing through them; and his limbs were being crushed into ash by a hammer.

"Oh God..." Alex whispered; her brain was like electrocuted and rendered unable to come up with anything more to keep Reid awake than she'd already come up with earlier, while Morgan was still chasing the preacher before coming to help.

Spencer reached for Derek's arm with his weak hand.

"I- I love you-" he finally managed to murmur with a hint of a lopsided smile, as if relief had washed over him the second he'd let out those words. His eyes were open in mere slits, looking at somewhere around Derek's face with an odd glimmer that the other man couldn't quite place because he'd never seen before.

"No, don't- don't say that, c'mon yo-" Derek barely said, choking halfway. "-you can say that to me later, Spencer..." his words faded away, as he shook his head in denial and the first of many tears to come fell down his cheek. He shut his eyes close in the attempt to avoid that, pressing his forehead against Spencer's while trying not to lose the grip on his neck.

"Please stay awake, please, please, please..." he begged through gritted teeth, once his sobs had somehow managed to slightly quiet down.

Suddenly, from far away, the sirens of an ambulance could be perceived amongst a million other noises, seeped out by the two agent's ears because they weren't the ones that mattered in that moment.

Alex quickly hopped on her feet and jogged toward the side of the street, waving and screaming like a maniac at the ambulance to make it quicker for the medics to find them.

"You hear that?? The ambulance is here kid, you gotta resist just a little more alright? Can you- can you do that for me??" Derek straightened up a little and said, well aware that he wasn't quite talking to Spencer anymore.

The other man mumbled something, not as a sign that he understood what was going on, rather that he was hearing Derek telling him things, saying words, making sounds.

He saw the figures of two medics along with Alex walking fast toward them, carrying a gurney. One of them got down and took Derek's place in soccurring Spencer; the former couldn't find a valid reason to protest when he was frantically shoved away off of him.

"Agent, are you injured?" the other one asked, gathering that the blood splattered on his bicep was most likely his own and not the other man's.

"I-I'm fine, the bullet didn't even hit me it just scratched me- I'm not the one who needs help, please! And- wait he- he doesn't take narcotics, please that's REALLY important-" Morgan yelped in response, still in shock, finding difficult to even put his words together clearly.

She only seemingly ignored his continuous whining - albeit rightful - but in actuality took in all that information, quickly examining his injury.

"I see what you mean, you got lucky. Still, it could get infected, so you're coming with us right now." she concluded in a rush, immediately turning around to help her colleague lay Spencer on the gurney.

While hurrying toward the ambulance, Derek saw Alex getting back to Hotch and Rossi. Aaron turned around, his eyes met Derek's.

He nodded at him from afar, a look on his face that said: "do what you have to do."

- later at the hospital

Derek had been sitting on that uncomfortable chair for at least 2 hours, in the waiting room of the hospital.

As soon as they'd got off the ambulance, they had rushed Spencer to surgery: during the drive he'd lost consciousness completely and started mumbling things that made no sense, nearing aphasia. From the second they'd taken him to the OR, Morgan hadn't been able to say anything, shell-shocked and numbed down by his brain as a defense mechanism.

Earlier, while the nurse was bandaging his arm in the Emergency Room and kept asking if he felt any pain, if he had fallen and hit his head when he'd got shot, if he was feeling dizzy; he just nodded or responded "I don't know". She'd even asked him what had happened to "his friend" at a certain point, to try and catch his attention: was she even aware that she was talking to a profiler? He couldn't even remember if he'd effectively shown her his badge.

It was probably more than 2 hours, he thought when he saw Hotch coming in.

Morgan looked up at him, finally shifting his eyes away from the floor. He didn't say anything, barely able to stare at him with a confused expression.

"I can't stay long." Hotch stated.

Silence.

"...what do you mean?" that was probably the first actual, sensible phrase Derek had pronounced since he'd got into that damned hospital.

Aaron sighed. "The others wanted to come, but I can't let them get distracted from the case, so I came here to check on you in person. It's the only way I got them to agree to stay at the station and keep working."

Derek finally understood what he meant; the cogs in his brain processing the situation with a concerning delay. He arched his eyebrows and rubbed his face with his palm, as if something Hotch said had awakened him all of a sudden.

"I thought you were here because the case was over" Derek snorted, shaking his head in a silent self-scolding.

"I- I don't know how I could think that..." he added, hunching on himself with his elbows dug in his sore knees.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Aaron asked after a few seconds, shooting him a concerned and squinting glance.

Derek briefly checked his wristwatch. "Since midnight, I think."

It was almost 3 am.

Hotch knew he couldn't ask him to swap and go get some air while he stayed there; he would've never accepted and it was only understandable. Plus, it wouldn't do any of them any good: he would be stuck in the hospital while the team needed him on the case. But he couldn't just leave him like that, what kind of teammate would he be?

"Alright." he sighed deeply. "I'm gonna wait here with you." he asserted, sitting down next to him and picking out the phone from his pocket, to inform the others by text.

Morgan scowled, as his head shot up. "No Hotch c'mon, it's already bad that I'm not working, you- you gotta get back, I'm gonna call you whenever I know something anyway-"

"I'm gonna stay until he's out of surgery and I know you both are ok." Hotch cut him off, without an inch of reconsideration in his voice. "Cause you're clearly not thinking straight right now." he concluded, searching deep in the other man's eyes for some sort of outraged reaction to his accusation, even being well aware that Derek had to be told by someone. And Hotch always seemed to be the one designated for that role.

Morgan faced down to stare at the blue linoleum floor again. After some seconds, he nodded silently, gulping to try and make that lump in his throat go away.

He realized that type of reaction wasn't normal for him. It almost never, ever happened to him to corner himself within his own head and turn to silent mode, in these kind of situations. He was usually the type to remain lucid - of course heating up and pacing around restlessly and punching things and cursing through clenched jaws; nonetheless lucid : interacting with the things and places and people surrounding him, letting himself feel whatever he had to feel and letting other people see it. Acting like he was acting in that moment, that just wasn't him. That could be JJ at times or...or Spencer. His Spencer.

After another 20 minutes of waiting in complete silence - which were nothing, compared to the 3 hours Derek had already waited - the doctor entered the crowded room. And Derek didn't even notice.

He was still sitting, eyeing blankly at the portion of floor in between his combat boots. He couldn't hear anything but his paranoid thoughts, not even the general noise and buzz of people's voices - let alone the doctor's footsteps.

Hotch instinctively stood up from the chair.

"Morgan-" he said, tapping on his shoulder.

Derek looked up at him distractedly, raising his brows. Aaron pointed at the doctor approaching them, right behind him.

He immediately got up as well and turned around; once again taking a second too many to process what was happening. He started to feel all the pressure again, heart pounding in his chest to deafness, palms oozing sweat, the knot in his larynx forming once again - for the fourth time at least that night, if one had to keep count.

"How is he?" he asked impatiently, taking for granted that he was even...alive.

"He got very lucky. The bullet didn't hit one of the major arteries just by half an inch or so." the doctor answered, calmly and reassuringly. "The excellent job you did at minimizing the blood loss on the scene was surely a determining factor." he spoke directly to Derek now, smiling widely.

Relief washed over the two agents, whose shoulders slumped and lungs released audible sighs.

"Can we see him right away?" Derek questioned further, hopeful.

"Yes, absolutely, but you have to consider that he's lost a lot of blood and stayed unconscious for quite a while. So it might take him some time to wake up from the anesthesia. Plus, he has to rest well, of course."

"Thank you." was all Derek managed to say, with watery eyes and trembling voice barely coming out of his mouth - but he really did mean it.

Aaron shook the doctor's hand, equally thankful, and quickly picked his phone out of his pocket.

"I'm calling the others right now. You go." Hotch ordered with his usual firmness and loyalty, which he maintained even in such tense situations; giving him a complicit look.

Derek simply nodded in response, infinitely grateful.

He opened the door of Spencer's room quietly, having acknowledged that he was still sleeping.

It was early morning; a faint, cold-hued light filtered through the blinds of the window. Derek couldn't see much, if not the outlines of some pieces of furniture and - most importantly - Spencer's shape lying on the bed. And that was more than enough for the moment being.

A gasp hitched halfway to his lungs, and his heart started beating with such intensity it could crack his sternum open, and his eyes prickled with tears of joy.

Morgan quietly grabbed the chair in the corner of the room and placed it beside the bed. He wanted to hug him so bad, but couldn't bring himself to wake him up; so he just sat there for a while, looking at him, at how the dim light enveloped his peacefully sleeping features and created weird shadows on his wrinkled hospital gown - for a second, he couldn't refrain from realizing that he looked beautiful even in that sloppy piece of clothing, with his tangled mop of hair sprawled all over the pillow.

Morgan reached out for the man's hand to lightly stroke his knuckles with the pads of his fingers. As soon as he did that, a single tear managed to part from the puddle heaped up before his pupils and trail down his cheek, falling down to sink into the cotton fabric of the blanket; not sure if that was due to the relief of being able to sense the warmth of Spencer's hand, or just because he was exhausted; or both.

Derek figured he wasn't gonna wake up any sooner if he stared at him for hours: he gave in to the impulse of resting his temple on his folded arms, over the bed, careful not to touch Spencer.

And he fell asleep.

- 4 hours later (7 am ca.)

Spencer opened his eyes. He felt wobbly, like he was caged in a glass bubble, and his neck hurt like hell, for lack of a term powerful enough.

He looked around and saw Derek, sitting beside the mattress with his head resting on the bed, sleeping. A disarmed smile played at the corners of his lips: of course he knew he would find him there, but quite frankly he didn't expect him to fall asleep like that.

He reached out to him with a hand, a little shaky from the weakness, and gently caressed his cheek, not sure if he wanted him to wake up or not. After all, he had no idea how much - or how little - sleep he managed to get; still: he needed to hear his voice and see that smile of his as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs.

Derek startled awake with a gasp, straightening up in his seat and checking his watch. It took him a while to notice that Spencer's hand was what had woken him up.

Then he saw him.

"Spencer-" he whispered and instantly stood up from the chair to sit on the bed beside him, stroking his forehead with a thumb.

Spencer suddenly realized Derek's arm was bandaged.

"W-what happened to you?" were his first words, hoarse and cracky; as he tried to prop himself up a little to half-sit on the bed.

"Nothing baby, bullet scratched me. How are YOU feeling? D'you want water or something? Jell-o?" the other asked, knowing exactly Spencer had a thing for Jell-o, not hesitating to brush off his unmotivated concern.

"No I'm fine, just...you should get back to the case, actually." Spencer said half-heartedly as reality hit him all of a sudden, making his smile fade away. He wanted him to stay, but on the other hand he knew keeping him there was only gonna slow down the team. They needed him more than he did - or at least, that's what he was trying to convince both himself AND Derek of.

"Nope. Not happening." the other dismissed, with a tone that left little to no space for protesting. He took Spencer's hand, lacing their fingers together.

His boyfriend gazed at him with puppy eyes. He should have expected that.

Derek sighed, cocking his head. "A'ight, look. They've probably already solved it by now. Best believe Hotch would've called me if it was necessary that I'd be there." he explained, reasonably. The point he was making was enough to ease down some of the guilt weighing on Spencer's chest for wishing he would stay.

"Plus," Derek continued, reaching his hand out to comb his fingers through Spencer's entangled curls. "I wouldn't be able to concentrate much right now anyway, pretty boy." he smiled at him.

Spencer giggled; the weight of his guilt now completely lifted off of his heart by Derek's smile - the brightest he'd ever seen, even being well aware of how much that whole chaos from last night must have drained him out. Only his Derek could.

"Come here" he then whispered, opening his arms, ready to melt into his hug.

Derek didn't wait another second to lean closer and wrap his strong arms around his boyfriend's skinny, temporarily fragile body; tight but not too tight, afraid to hurt him. He'd wanted to take him in his arms since the moment he opened the door and saw him, alive, 4 hours before. He released a content sigh, burying his face into Spencer's warm neck, where his nose was being slightly tickled by that soft hair - as per usual.

Spencer gently kissed Derek's temple, ignoring the fact that in doing so he would've inevitably had to tilt his neck in a hurtful way. Indeed:

"Shit-" he whispered as he pressed a hand on his bandaged neck, scrunching his muzzle in a grimace of pain but somewhat amused at the same time: he wondered if it was gonna feel like someone was twisting his throat everytime he tilted his head as little as an inch.

Derek carefully let go of the hug and placed his palm over Spencer's; his eyes revealing guilt and regret for having complied his request to hug him.

"Fuck- sorry about that, kid..."

While the other man's gaze was concentrated on his bandaged wound, Spencer's pupils fluttered around his features, displayed a few inches from his face.

"It's nothing, just kiss me." he murmured like he was in a rush, like he hadn't even thought for a second before spitting it out like that. Which was something he usually did only when he said awkward stuff - only to receive the "Reid, wtf" signature look in response.

He placed a hand behind Derek's head and pulled him closer impulsively, risking their teeth to collide.

Derek was definitely not expecting the man's warm tongue to push into his mouth like that, forcing him to part his lips way more widely than if it were just going to be the quick peck he was initially expecting it to be.

He wanted to draw Spencer even closer, but figured placing his hand on his jaw or - even worse - on his nape, would make him flinch in pain again, so he opted to wrap him back in his arms; one draped over his shoulders and the other tight around his waist.

Spencer gradually slowed down and eventually stopped, struggling to breathe evenly. He opened his eyes to stare dreamily into Derek's; still tied in each other's arms to keep their noses 3 inches apart at most.

He smiled in a sweet, silly way and laid a couple of quick kisses on both corners of Derek's mouth, making him helplessly smile too.

"I love you." Spencer murmured against the other's grinning lips. He had enough time to place on them only a couple more quick pecks, before his boyfriend managed to untangle from his limbs and pull back a little, laughing at how fucking adorable he was.

As he chuckled and put a few more inches between their faces, the memory of Spencer saying "I love you" the night before flashed back into his mind for a second. The jarring difference in how that same phrase was pronounced in those two diametrally opposed contexts made Derek feel things, not quite sure what things. Spencer most definitely couldn't remember saying it - his near unconscious state from last night overpowering his eidetic memory - though Derek recalled mumbling something among the lines of "you can say that to me later"... Anyway, he pushed those inconclusive thoughts away before they could ruin such a precious moment.

"Alright, alright, I would've gone to get you that Jell-o even without all this, you know?" he said, betraying his feigned indignation when he couldn't resist placing one last kiss on Spencer's Cupid's bow. "Or is this your apology for scaring the shit out of me and making me cry like a baby? Cause either way, it's working. You really ARE a magician, huh" he winked jokingly.

Spencer giggled and rolled his eyes. "Come on, it's not about the Jell-o!"

Derek let go of him altogether and stood up from the bed, before mocking him yet once more.

"Yeah, whatever. Imma go get that Jell-o, you stay here." as if he could actually get up and walk around the hospital, duh...

Spencer dropped his arms on the bed, as a sign of complaint. "Seriously though, I don't want Jell-o right now I- I want you ! Even if you bring it to me it's gonna stay exactly wherever you put it!" he tried to convince him not to leave the room, blushing as a result of having let "I want you" slip out like that.

Even if what Spencer said and the tone with which he said it and the face with which he said it were persuasive to say the least; Derek already had his hand on the door handle by then. He opened it and turned around toward Spencer one last time before getting out.

"I need an excuse to get out of here or Imma eat you alive, so you better thank me." he concluded with a glare and a smirk, playfully pointing a threatening finger at his boyfriend before finally closing the door behind him.

Spencer sighed in resignation, slowly returning to lie down on the mattress with his head on the pillow.

He stared at the ceiling and covered his eyes with his hand, smiling from ear to ear.

79 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

Text

✨ Unfiltered Joker thoughts ✨

I watched Joker with a bunch of lovely clowns on my Discord and while they werewolf’d in the chat, I typed out my thoughts here as they came to me. These are unedited, unfiltered, and exactly as they were in my head. I don’t know who’d be interested in this but 🤷‍♀️ who doesn’t love unfiltered thoughts about our man? NSFW ahead in places, lmao and some self-ship elements because it’s always on my mind.

There are Controversial Things within, I’m sure - be nice about it if you wanna comment, or unfollow/block etc. if it bothers you I won’t take it personally. I will take it personally if I’m sent a rude message, though. Fair warning. You curate your own online experience so scroll past silently if you gotta!🥰🥰🥰🥰

Tagging @arthurflecc @jokerownsmysoul @daincrediblegg @sweet-nothings04 bc they were in the chat and missed me there!!

Word count: 4, 597.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJO -

*Presses play*

OMG THERE HE IS BABYYYYYYYY ~

Ugh that white shirt... 🥵

“paint me like one of your french girls” 👀

oh, honey, no.

Don’t force yourself to smile, my love, it’s okay. you can be hurting.

sweet angel who can do no wrong asdfghjkl

wanna kiss that tear away...

CARNIVALCARNIVAL CARNIVAL *STARTS SWAYING IN MY SEAT*

jaunty piano to juxtapose his shitty mood

you spin me right round, baby, right round...

ohhh, baby 🥺🥺🥺

someone’s honky lmaoooooo ~

that cello

Ohhhh, darling man.... i’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

WOOPS CRYINGGGG ~

sweet angel love still tryna be funy with the flower squirting...

what else will squirt tonight???👀

ohhh, darling. deep breaths baby. it’s okay. you’re okay.

CRYINGGGGG

ohhhh baby boyyyy....

legit just cooed aloud

oh angel <3

“is it just me or is it getting crazier out there?”

it is my love... it is.

let me sit on your lap and still the shaking of your legs

ohhhh my love. you’re okay. just breathe.

Dr. Kane was doing her best but you’re beyond what she can handle

you deserve better, sweetheart.

my love, my life.

I JUMPED WHEN HE HIT HIS HEAD IN ARKHAM

“who knows?”

yeah me too, my love. me too.

“i just dont wanna feel so bad anymore”

oh baby.

i know, my love. i wish i could hold your hand and stroke your hair and kiss your cheeks 🥺🥺🥺

had a shitty day but wants to comfort a child on the bus. thats my manssss ~ <3 <3 <3

okay but his peekaboo makes me giggle please do that to me when im sad

“‘cuse you bitch?”

the greasepaint still on his face is endearing omg

GIVE HIM BACK HIS CARD OR IMMA RIOTTTT

CRYINGGGGG

ohhhh baby. no. deep breaths. i’m here, my love. not going anywhere

those fucking steps

me too, darling. i feel your exhaustion like it’s my own and i long to take it from you without changing a single thing about you.

my love, my life

the weariness of an unchanged routine is a paralysing one

wanna rub cream on your bruises

“yeah, mum” so soft im cry

“eat. you need to eat” i hear you in my head when i wanna skip meals and it helps me.

“oh yeah? who do you talk to?” YES SASS HER

“yay murray” ohhhhh angel you’re so cute I’m cry 🥺

murray you wankstain - old and crusty 🤮🤢🤮🤢

arthur’s laugh in his daydream 🥺🥺

“i love you murray” // “you’re awful murray” baby noooooo

“theres something special about you arthur” the only real thing murrat ever fuckin said AND IT WASNT EVEN A REAL THING IT WAS IN HIS HEAD

“I TAKE GOOD CARE OF MY MOTHER” YEEEES BABY YOU DO! SO PROUD OF YOU!!!

just wantin recognition in your daydreams bc you dont get it in your real life

YOU SWEET THING

HIS SWEET SMILE AND THE CELLO OH BABY 🥺😭

YOUR BACK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

shoes are too tight so you gotta stretch em

can you stretch me too???👀🥵💦🔥

“chuckletown” RANDALLS LEGACY AND WE TURNED IT INTO SMTHN LOVING AND NOT SARKY LIKE HE INTENDED LMAO FUCK YOU RANDALL YOU PIECE OF SHIIIIIIIIT

arthur’s hair in the sun omg like a halo

randall fuck off fucking fuck off go aWAY LEAVE MY ARTHUR ALONE

you asswipe

arthurs shy and nervous lil giggle omg baby say no give the gun back its not well intended

“my boy” AHA LMAO HE DOES PAY YOU BACK BUT NOT HOW YOU EXPECT LMAOOOO YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

THOSE CURLS

arthur’s sweet little lilting voice in front of his boss omggggg ~

HOYYYYYYT

his logic makes no sense wtffffff ~

RETAIL SMILE LMAO THATS A MOOD

brewing insanity.....

POUND ME LIKE THOSE TRASH BAGS

RUIN ME AND THEN REBUILD ME IN YOUR IMAGE

those mf stairs again

it’s the same old team since 1916... in your head, in your head...

never in my LIFE have i been aroused by a FOOT

lmao only Arthur istg that man is the exception to my every rule

Gigi is so CUTE 🥺

THAT SMIRK SIR CAN YOU NOT

“hey” omggg look at you tryna connect ugh so proud of youuu ~

the moon is a silver dollar...

THOSE CURLS

THOSE BARE FEET

THAT SOFT VOICE

ARTHURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

frances conroy is a goddess omg i love herrrr ~

espesh on ahs she’s a queen

but i digress lmao wrong fandom

“dont you have to be funny to be a comedian”

FUCK OFF PENNY

FUCK RIGHT OFF THEN FUCK OFF SOME MORE PLEASE

slap that bass....

FINGERSSS ON THE GUN ASDFGHJ PUT THEM ON ME INSTEADDDD

zoom zoom the world is in a mess

LMAO YEP

“psh” omg you sweet angel asdfghjk

THAT EYEBROW RAISE ASDFGHJK SASSY KINGGGGG

GET ITTTTTT

UGH THAT BODY WANNA COVER IT IN MARKS OF LOVE TO REPLACE THE VIOLENT MARKS

ARTHUR @ HIMSELF “YOURE A GOOD DANCER // I KNOW”

omggggg sweet clumsy babyyyy

lmaooo “old war movie” do you tell penny that when we get caught having sex on the sofa????

arthur honey following sophie isn’t.... the best way to get her attention asdfghjk

someone needs to teach you social interactions...

I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTTTTTE

that student/teacher roleplay comedian at pogos makes no sense to me???? i dont get his jokes at all

lmao bad comediannnnnn

arthur’s cute lil mistimed giggles ksksksksk

wanna kiss your cheeks every timmmme

you’re working so hard to achieve your goals im so so proud of you

ambidextroussss ~ (just like me omg we’re perfect for each otherrrrr)

“people expect you to behave as if you dont” YOU INTELLIGENT LIL SHIT OMG I LOVE YOU AND YOUR MIND

you know its a daydream if arthurs wearing a shirt at home

his shy “yeah” omggggg ~ angelllll

“i have a gun i can come by tomorrow” LMAOOOOOOOO

“youre so funny arthur” YES HE IS DREAM!SOPHIE

CARNIVAL CARNIVAL CARNIVAL

I ACTUALLY STOMP MY FEET HERE BC IM HAPPY FOR THE TIME HES ON SCREEN SWEET CLOWN

THE ONLY ONE IM NOT AFRAID OF

HES SO SO HAPPY OMGGG

BABY BOYYYY IN HIS ELEMENT

SAD THO BC KIDS ARE TERMINALLY ILL

bestest party clownnnn

“I love this job” oh baby 🥺🥺

aaaaaaaaand now the betrayal from randall lmao fuck that dude

NO BB YOUR FOREHEAD NO SMASHY GLASSY

LMAO THE FUCK ERIKA???

dudes 35 not a kid

throwing greasy chips into a girl’s hair isn’t how to flirt my dude lmao you’re gross???

EW EW EW WIGGLE YOUR CHIPS ELSEWHERE

ohhhh arthur, honey no omg breathe it’s okay

you wanna help but you dont know how

you sweet thing

send in the clowwwwwwwwwwwwwwns ~

IM CRYINGGGGG

“they couldnt carry a tune to save their lives”

JOEKR ITS NOT YOUR TIME YET GO AWAYYYY

lmao jokes stay you know im lost without you

HOW CAN YOUR HAIR LOOK SO GOOD AFTER BEING UNDER A WIG ALL DAY ?????

carnival with arthur’s hair is just 👌👌👌👌

WHERES HIS CARDDDDD

nooooooo omg baby no omg i wish i could take all those punches for you

i’d take it all in a heartbeat to save you

gritting his teeth not taking in anymore

YES BABY GET EEEEEEM

YES YES YES YES STAND UP FOR YOURSELF SO PROUD OF YOU

first 2 self defence, 3rd one unsure lmao but fuck it

no PUT THE GUN AWAY FROM YOUR FACE BABY ITS OKAY DONT FORGET YOUR BAG OR YOUR WIG ITS EVIDENCE

KILL THE 3RD COVER YOUR TRACKS

GOOD BOYYYYYY

carnival with blood on face = killing your insecurities

8 bullets from a 6 chamber????? mm-hm lmao i know @daincrediblegg wrote a thing on this once lmao bestest Egg is smart and i love her muchly 🥰🥰🥰🥰

run baby run, dont ever look backkk... (check yes juliet)

BATHROOM SCENE BATHROOM SCENE BATHROOM SCENE

fuck me against that dirty counter

joker’s waking uuuuuuuup....

that cello though unffff 👌

got me clenchinnnnn you fluidddd ~

and in his eyes, all the sadness of the world. those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore (phantom of the opera)

my brain is 90% song lyrics

hes so graceful and ethereal so full of pain and of love and of adventure and worth and need and yearning

my sweet boy

my wonderful angel

my fallen angel

T POSEEEEE

DAYDREAM KISSSSS

ugh push me against the wall and shove your hand down my panties and take whats yours

please and thanks

so confident

so smooth

so sure

unf

take me angel im all yours

and my name is carnival

SASSY BOYYYYY

I SAY BOY BUT YOURE A MAN LMAO

YESSSSSS TELL THEMMMMMMMM

LMAOOOOOO RANDALL SEEMS LEGIT CONFUSED PFFFT

TOUGH SHIIIIIIIT

LMAOOO PUNCH OUT

BUSTING A LUNNGGGGG

HE DOESNT KNOW HIS OWN STRENGTH

OR HIS OWN LIMITS

“DONT SMILE”

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

nothin worse than being told to smile when you really wanna bare your teeth and let rip

aka me every fuckin minute of my life

SHUSH ME SHUSH ME SHUSH ME

ILL CRY BUT DO IT

LMAOOOOO CHOKE ME WITH THOSE BICEPS

ILL GO OUT DOIN WHAT I LOVE

YOUUUUUUU

“gotham’s lost its way” ok trump

“thats not funny” SHUT UP PENNY YES IT IS

STOP SMOTHERING ARTHUR LET HIM BE FREE

“nobody ever saw me. even i didnt know if i really existed”

and

“you dont listen do you”

BOTH ARE MOODS

i feel them so hard

hes so sure of himself in this session

so angry and done and weary

“people are starting to notice” ALMOST A YEAR OF YOU BEING NOTICED

that green jumper omggg

good luck getting me out of it pfffft

“erika have you seen my - oh, there it is. never mind.”

want it back???? payment is kissessss

EW SEXIST COMEDIAN

arthur honey stop primping youre perfect <3 <3 <3

im so so proud of youuuuu

COLLARBONEEEEEES

OMG HE STUMBLES UP THE STEPS DARLINGGG

I wish i could hold your hand while youre on stage and comfort you while you deliver your jokes

just breathe, darling. it’s okay. i’m here, i promise. <3

every time you gag on your laughter my heart clenches

CRYINGGGGG

oh, my love, it’s okay. just breathe. dont fight it. dont fight yourself

you’re so good at imitating your ma pfffft

lmaoooo you’re so funny arthur

WOO BOI DONT FLASH YOUR PORN PAGES AT THE AUDIENCE

givin me ideas....

SMILE THOUGH YOUR HEART IS ACHING

SMILE EVEN THOUGH IT’S BREAKING

WHEN THERE ARE CLOUDS IN THE SKY

YOU’LL GET BY

SMILE THROUGH YOUR FEAR AND SORROW

SMILE

AND MAYBE TOMORROW

YOULL SEE THE SUN COME SHINING THROUGH

arthur is my sunshine

EXCUSE ME HEART EYES OMGGGG

ME AND ARTHUR HEART EYESING AT EACH OTHER PFFFFFT

gonna put people off their food doin that

thats life

arthur’s imitations and those soft curls and the dancing and the -

erika.exe has stopped working

“come on dance with me”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

i prefer the horizontal dance myself...

“big date”

“deliver the letter”

NARCISSISM

ARTHUR YOU DESERVE BETTERRRRRRRRRR

IS IT BAD HIS EYEBROWS TURN ME ON?? SO THICK AND DARK AND STRONG I -

and those eyes

ugh fuck meeee ~

yes thats an invitation

penny “needs care” but her handwriting is that neat???? yeah fuck off

sorry i dont buy it

she was grooming him i think into some kinda husband role and its fucking gross as fuck she was abusing him and he just wanted her gone

CUTE LIL NOSTRIL FLARES BC SAD AND ANGRY

OMG

his quiet anger scares me but i admire how he calmed down so fast

angry penguinnnnn

HE CARRIES HIS CLOWN NOSE AROUND IN HIS POCKET

CUUUUUUUTE

the similar clothing colours of arthur and bruce is v def intentional

in another life, arthur....

i’m so sorry darling you deserved and deserve so much better

legit one small change in anything coulda prevented 80% of this film

your magic tricks are gorgeous ~

you’re so funny and soothing and comforting and so good with kids

you are the best party clown

I GASPED AT THE FLOWERS

like my server nameee ~

“hi” that soft noise 🥺

arthur’s hands on those bars omg 🥵🥵🥵

okay i’ll admit i still dont get the whole arthur/thomas thing lmao is he his dad???? ive seen this film 10000000 x and i still can’t decide.

i wanna say he is but like ??? idk ??

it’s tragic either way omg arthur’s wasted in gotham

ruuuun arthur run run runnnnnnnn

the bg music isss 👌👌👌👌

arthur accidentally caused penny’s stroke bc med w/drawal but all that abuse, like ????? i get why he kept her sedated lmao i’d want her knocked out or smthn too

7 meds between the two of them, probably.... that might be why he wanted an increase???

you gotta lie, angel.

you’re in way over your head but lie

yeeees good boy!!

“a clown thing?“ lmaoooo tell them!!!

NO ITS EXIT ONLY

KINDA LIKE MY ASS LMAO NO ANAL FOR YOU

he just wants love and comfort and for someone to stay omg you sweet thing

you deserve the world and all the forehead kisses

TURN THE TV OFF

TURN IT OFF

TURN IT -

OH TOO LATE

arthurrrrr ~

its like a car crash lmao you know its coming but you cant stop looking

fuck off murrat

FUCK OFF SOME MORE

oooooooh thats a danger face....

lowkey want it between my thighs lmao use me to work out your frustrations i can take it

“kill the rich” lmao relatable

this film revealed to me that i have a flexible morality ksksksk im all for it though

sleepy bb ~

“we are all clowns” ALSO RELATABLE

🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

arthurs thriving in the crowd omg yes baby looks so happy

flashes of joker comin throughhh...

sneaky baby...

quick on his feet, light on his sense...

tread lightly on my ground, (abba; andante)

THE RED THEATRE SUIT OMG FORESHADOWWWW

he looks good in red

he looks good out of red too 👀👀

that is the smile of the world’s most precious angel omg babyyyy ~

he makes me smile omg hes my sunshine

my love my life

you saved my soul do you know that??? do you feel me and how much i love you? do you see me and these tears?

do you feel me like i feel you?

ohhhhh boy here we go asdfdgfhgjhk arthur going to meet his dad, only asking for love and instead he gets punched in the face

i mean i get it bc of what arthur did to bruce with the whole hands in the mouth thing but bruce is barely mentioned, like an afterthought?

thomas has a nasty temper i wouldnt want him for a dad

thomas legit only mentions bruce after he’s punched arthur its like his only thought is really protecting himself and his rep with the whole penny thing

his son comes after; legit as he’s walking away he mentions bruce so hes obvs not that concerned????

shitty dad award lmao

not that what arthur did is okay im not excusing his admittedly misguided and lowkey creepy actions but like ????

lmao prob gonna get hate for this ^^ like i did last time i mentioned it but i dont care im allowed an opinion

too tired to care rn anyways pfffft its storming so bad outside and my wifi has dipped idk if this’ll save

c’mon wifi, for me...

yes

arthur didnt have an attack til he got called crazy, its a trigger word for him 😭

oh baby its okay, deep breaths.

dont fight your laughter, that’ll make it worse

the way he bounces back from that punch though - you know how to take it, dont you, my love?

you sweet thing.

i wish i could get you out of that fridge omg baby those old ones lock - how did you get out ????

meds are wearing off now.....

darling say no to the show lmao you dont wanna go

*facepalm*

every time i watch this i hope it turns out different

it never does

arthur honey dont ask questions you dont want the answers to

that clerk was protecting you not letting you see the file

that clerk and gary were the only ones nice to you

but it wasnt enough

you needed love and support and help and guidance

and instead you got literal and metaphorical punches and no break

the hand puppet omgggg ~

i want him to play peekaboo with me when im sad/upset/make a hand puppet over my shoulder aszdxfcghvjbkn

ohhhhhh darling stop reading stop reading stop reading

put it down.

this entire scene is confusing and heartbreaking

ive seen this film 10000000 x and im still not sure i fully understand

his laughing is so much like sobbing here

omg moonshine its okay you can cry. let it all out.

newspaper clips in a real file???? mmmm - unprofessional or arthur’s manifestation of news??

🤔

we love pathetic fallacy in this house

i wanna get you in the shower and wash you down and feed you and wrap you in my warm embrace “i had a bad day”

my dark angel, it’s okay. i’m here. i love you and im staying with you no matter what

sophie was his last hope, his last chance to reconnect

again im not excusing it lmao but im saying i understand him

hes touching everything to experience it for the first time

he knows shes a daydream

hes self-aware but he needs his coping mechanisms

we all do it

not the breaking in, i mean the daydreaming

“i had a bad day” shatters my black, shrivelled heart 💔💔💔💔💔💔

ohhh, darling.

istg you’re the only person i ever fucking coo at

finger-guns = reconnecting = remember me see me

but i guess to sophie it came across as ominous/creepy??

poor arthur trying so hard to reconnect to people and he just cant do it he doesnt have the social know-how bc no one bothered to ever teach him

again im not saying its okay im just saying

lmao i hate how i always feel like i have to justify myself even before thats called into question pffft the internet is cruel and prev times ive voiced myself ive been sent rude messages and once bitten twice shy

the sword forgets but the tree remembers

hes sobbign and laughing and its gut-wrenching

that neighbour yelling “shut up” better catch these hands imma square up

have some compassion dickwad

you never know what someones going through so be kind

always always be kind

^^^ film takeaway right there

if looks could kill penny would be 6 feet under

OH WAIT LMAOOOO 😂😂😂😂😂😂

in killing her he sets himself free. but the trauma and the damage done to him leaves him open to more of the same bc hes so vulnerable

that heart-rate monitor went quiet so quickly did he tune it out????

OMG THE WAY HE REHEARSES FOR THE SHOW YOU SWEET MAN OMG YOU DESERVE THE WORLD

sir thats my seat lmao my throne of red

“yeah? all of you? okay” 🤡🤡🤡

us lining up to fuck him into next week 😂

THATS LIFEEEEE ~

the fuck kinda hair dye you usin’???

CHOKE ME W THOSE BICEPS

DANCIN TOGETHER IN THE BATHROOM

THOSE HIPS DONT LIEEEEE 👀👀

scissors = pre-med murder but triggered by “my boy” - term used by abusers.

poor angel’s triggered by lots of things, i think. theres no telling what triggers his violence and thats what makes him dangerous

could be anything and theres also no telling what his “you wronged me” scale is so ???

he’s like a kicked dog... lashes out when hes had so much and wont/cant take anymore

“COMING” yeaaaaah i bet....👀

“i stopped taking my medication and i feel a lot better now” GET OUT GET OUT THATS A RED FLAG OUUUUUUUUUUT YOU GO

OOOOOH JOKER’S LAUGH IS OUT - HES MOCKING YOUUUU AND YOU DONT EVEN KNOW IT BOY’S SMARTICLES

this is why arthurs so dangerous. he looks lithe and weak and fragile but he takes down a man twice his size with scissors in one hit

do not underestimate him it’ll be the last thing you ever do

I WANNA LICK THE BLOOD OFF HIS FACE

BRITISH ACCENT ON POINT

LMAO he’d so mock me for mine 😂

“you were the only one who was ever really nice to me” a moral codeeee; flexible morality like meeee ~

okay but he so made gary jump bc he knew gary was too scared to move otherwise

loooooving the gallows humour with the door lock PFFFT

gotham slept on arthur dude’s hilarious

OH OMH OMG OMGOMOMGOMGOMGOMGOKMG JOKER JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY LOVE MY LIFE MY CLOWN MY HUSBAND OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

IM CRYINGGGGGGGG

JOKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER

I CANT BREATHE FUCK OMFFFFF LOOK AT HIIIIIIM

LOOOOOOOOOK LOOK LOOK ASZDXFCGVHJBKLKJHGFDSZDXFGHJHKJLKJHGFD

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

MY LOVE MY LIFE MY JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKER

JOKERJOKERJOKER

LMAO HE’D BE GIGGLING AT ME RIGHT NOW OMGGGG

lmao let randall rot there fuck hiiiiiiim (and not in the fun way)

i want Joker to touch my clit like he did the lift button 👀

ohhhhh look at you having fun on the stairrrs

happy babyyyy ~

dancing towards what you believe to be your death

so glad you changed your punchline at the last minute you didnt deserve to die

SWEET FLAWLESS ANGEL I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

his “oh” when the cops come lmaooooo ~

he does that when you grind down hard on him...👀

so used to pain he gets up from being hit by a car and carries on 😔

run baby run...

hes so agile and so quick on his feet

thinks fast too

arthur for fuck’s sake dont you dare stop

you’re almost there, my love.

im so so proud of you

SASSY DANCING ANGELLLL

i love that smug smirk he has and that chuckle omg lmaooooo ~

i’d do anything to see you look at me with such pride

ooof you look so angry in the subway but i’d happily cup your face in my hands and smother you in kisses

your eyes red rimmed with tears. youve been sweating and crying ohhhh ~

my love omg you didnt want this, you didnt want the riots and you dont know how it spun so outta control and you didnt choose this

i so desperately want to be with you right now

“i dont believe in anything” THATS OKAY I DIDNT NEED MY HEART ANYWAY

I MEAN ITS ALREADY YOURS BUT YOURE STANDING ON IT OUCH

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

“mm-hm” i love that little noise

“i love dr sally” BITCH YOU HAVE A WIFE AT HOMEEEE

“THATS WHAT YOU CALLED ME ON THE SHOW. A JOKER. DO YOU REMEMBER?” THATS SUCH A DANGEROUS LOOK ON HIS PERFECT FACE LMAO MURRAY HAD ONE CHANCE TO CHANGE HIS MIND AND APOLOGISE AND HE DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT LMAO

fuck ‘em, Joker.

You deserve better

GET

THAT

FUCKING

GUN

AWAY

FROM

YOUR

FACE

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

all that pain in his eyes....

oh, darling. how did no one see you????

his backstage dancing got me 💦💦💦

hes so ethereal and mysterious, so free yet so constrained, so beautiful and so himself

i love him i love him i love him i love him

smile playing as he comes out on stage lmao even now hes being told what to do and how to act

hes never free

spinny baby

you spin me right round...

he suits the stage so well

lmao woop sexual assault (kissing dr sally without consent) isnt a good move Joker but damn what a first kiss...

never thought i’d be jealous of an elderly woman but here we are 🤡

he looks so good under the lights omg so crisp....

wanna mess and smear it uuuuup

you’re all being mocked and none of you fucking know it lmao get wrecked

memory problems bcof the notebook + “get it right” - he really cares

ohhhhhh baby come on change your punchline, come on....

okay but that drunk driver joke does make me giggle lmao it’s so out there and honestly my sense of humour is just as dark as his is

i just sHIVERED 🥵

“arthur” HE SAID CALL HIM JOKER DONT BE RUDE

ohhhhh i’m cryingggg 😭😭😭😭😭😭

i cant watch this without crying ohhhh all that pain, all that suffering and all that anger, confusion and betrayal. a mental breakdown on nat tv and no one sees him. how the fuck are you all so blind?????

“mur-rray” LMAO YOU FUCK MY NAME I FUCK YOURS

SAY IT JOKER IM SO SO PROUD OF YOUUU

hes speaking facts

“they couldnt carry a tune to save their lives” and that eye roll and groan yes we stan a dramatic CLOWN

this is fucking heartbreaking omg “i dont care about anything” but then he rants in the next minute - so unpredictable and dangerous and untamed but so so pretty in his pain so beautiful and so free

but hes not free... not really

“werewolf” as a verb omg only you could make that work

im so fucking proud of you

“youre awful murray” ooooooooh....

LMAO JOKER’S JOKE BLEW MURRAT’S MIND

hes crying and shaking and no one ??? sees him ???? how????

i legit dont understand how people just dont see him? people see what they wanna see but it’s right there???

he seems almost surprised by the fact he killed him

YES GRAB MY FACE LIKE YOU DID THE CAMERA PLEASE

IN THE WHITE ROOOOOOOOOM

UGH I LOVE THIS SONG SO FUCKING MUCH ITS SUCH A FEEL GOOD SONG

GOTHAM IS SO PRETTY WHEN ITS ON FIRE OMG ITS SO ALIVE

I LOVE THE ENERGY THIS SCENE GIVES OFF

ITS LIKE HOW JOKER HIMSELF MAKES ME FEEL

ALIVE

his little “hi” like they can hear him 🥺🥺🥺🥺

his laughter omggg sweet angelllllll ~

“i know. isn’t it beautiful?” YES IT IIIIIS

AND SO ARE YOU

OH NO OMG NO NO NOPEEEE

this scene always scares me even though i know hes okay pffffft

the birth of joker lmao

be careful with him please hes precious cargo

omggg i wanna sit on that car and wipe his blood away and help him to get home so i can patch him up

lmao im a scaredy cat til my loved ones are threatened then i scare up this fawn bites

i wanna help Joker to get help and support

i wanna love him through it all, the good and the bad

his slow dancing always gets me omg it’s arthur, still there, still suffering, still unseen and unloved

hes crying and hes in pain

blood smile - my inside is on the outside now and it still hurts

he didnt want any of this. he chose his name ubt not what came with it

my poor clown......

CRYINGGGGGG AGAIN

HIS GENUINE LAUGHTER SENDS ME OMG ITS SO PRETTY

i wanna make him laugh like that

it always makes me smile omg those cute lil hiccups 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

THATS LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE

i love the audio muted during the scene he sings it omgg it’s so prettyyyy ~ i like to pretend hes singing to me sometimes asdfghjk

metaphorical or literal blood???

hes accepted who he is now.

hes free

dancing in the white light like an angel

i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love hiiiiiiiiiim ~ 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

~ THE END ~

#erileck #self-shipping #lmao this was fun

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years

Text

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 1

(This chapter has been rewritten/ edited since original post)

General Notice: I’m trying to get more works out during this time that is rough for all of us. That being said I am trying to keep it’s quality up.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux's 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

It had been years since you left Miss Robichaux's academy or spoken to your best friend from that place. How long it had been exactly was something you were unsure of. It felt like days, but it could have been decades. The school's exterior hadn't aged a day since you first stepped into that academy for extraordinary young ladies. To be fair, neither had you.

The two-story building towered over you as it did at 18. You tried to move on from those days alas your memory of the place remained in your stagnant life. You had ambitions once, now unsure of what they were. You weren't necessarily from New Orleans, but your ancestry was from Salem or at least from what the letter your mother sent you explaining your oddities.

Years on and you stood in front of the cast iron gates just as petrified as you were on your first day. You had nothing to lose except your old way of thinking. Now, there was her. You wouldn't expect someone to accept you as you are. There was no way to explain what has become of you because nothing has, you were the same person you were when you exited her life.

The chuckles of girls playing in the yard filled your ears on the fine summer's day. Break time, you thought to yourself as you tugged your cardigan closer to her frame. You used to spend all your free time in the greenhouse with your friend. Potions weren't your forte, but she loved it so acted like you did...for her. It wasn't until recently that you learned to appreciate the natural science of it.

Your friend was your main reason for your resurgence into the world of magic. Her passion to teach the next generation of witches fuelled your pilgrimage of discovery of the world. To teach the wonderous world of extraordinary beings to the youth of today. You excelled in the history of Salem witches and your passion extended across other magical beings. The two of you used to joke that after years you would be the only two to remain behind. You wished for nothing more than to be with her for all eternity. Some dreams never go as they're planned. Namely, her husband, Hank Foxx. It could have been because you spent years surrounded by women, but that man didn't sit right with you. Nor did he to your friends Mother, one of the few things you got on with that woman about.

Her mother was a vile woman, the supreme witch since she was 18. She rarely took interest in the coven unless it was for self-benefit. She was a distant mother to her daughter, shipping her off to the school at the early age of 7. Your friend sought out a mother figure elsewhere, finding it in Myrtle Snow who ended up working for the council and doing the work the supreme refused to do. Her mother, Fiona, was long since dead, four years to be exact. Her title ironically passed down to her daughter. The worlds changed since your school days. You'd heard the news from your local sources, discovering Fiona's death when news of witches was broadcasted to the world. There was no way in hell Fiona would allow that. You were tempted to go to the opening, say hello to your old friend. But what would you say? It's been years. You left her all alone for years. How were you going to forgive yourself?

With a flick of the wrist, the gates were open. Your heart pounded to the beat of your footsteps. Your breath stilled when you knocked on the door. Maybe this was a mistake, you contemplated leaving. No one was answering. It was probably for the best.

The truth was years ago you had the chance to return but you refused. The only reason you were here now was for purely selfish reasons. The balance of good and bad had shifted and in your trail to correct the scale, you wound up in a lot of trouble. You had nowhere to go. Your home was no longer your own and you were on were on the run.

You sighed, turning around, and heading down the concrete path. The iron gate closed before you could leave. Your ears register a voice a second later. You spun around to be greeted by a young woman. She was short (but compared to you most women where) with long straight brown hair.

"Good, I got your attention, I thought you were going to escape," the woman joked. You chuckled awkwardly in response. Now that you were leaving, you did not really want to be there. "You knocked on the school's door?"

"-Yeah." You didn't even imagine the possibility of it not being- of course, it wouldn't be her. She was supreme now, she had better things to do than answering the school's door. "Yeah, sorry. I'm slighting out of it, nerves and all."

"It's alright. Most girls are nervous when they first arrive."

You chuckled once again, awkwardly, "I bet."

The woman let you inside telling you she would lead you to the Headmistress to fill out all the paperwork.

"Crap, I forgot she's in a meeting right now," the young woman said. "And I have to teach a class in a minute."

"You're a teacher?" The woman was used to the question from how young she was. "What age range are you teaching?"

"Right now, Pre-teen years. They're usually the worst to deal with."

"I bet. I could sit in and watch you teach them while we wait for Cordelia. Hell, you might be able to teach me something." Zoe hadn't mentioned the Supreme's name, so she assumed you knew it from the television segment a while back.

"If it doesn't bother you."

"It's no problem at all."

The woman led you to the kitchen dining room where a bunch of restless girls were mucking about. They all stilled, taking their seats, a few still mucking about as they did so. All the girls stared at you, one asking why you were so tall. You laughed, saying "Platforms" showing your four-inch platforms that were hidden by your floor-length skirt before you stole one of the free seats moving it out of the way so the woman could teach.

As the lesson when on you noticed one of the girls was struggling with her work. You noticed how she seemed to be too shy to ask for help. The girl beside her flying head and boasting about her skills, most likely bringing the girl down (unintentionally), in the process. You stood up and quietly as to not disturb the class and moved over to the girl.

"Hi, my name's Y/N. What's yours?" You asked her quietly.

"Emily," she whispered.

"Nice to meet you, Emily. Do you need any help with your work?" She shook her head. "Can I help you with your work?" She looked at you hesitantly then up to Ms who was too busy to notice you had moved over to the girl.

"If you want."

"How about you tell me what you're learning?" You started with. She shrugged. "What's the title of your worksheet?"

"Types of Magic?"

"Yes, that's correct. Now, what are the two main types of magic?" She remained quiet. "Clue: what's above you?"

"A roof?"

You chuckled, "Technically, that is right, but I meant that-" you point to the light globe.

"Oh, a light. Light and dark!" She got excited, raising her voice from a whisper. This caught the attention of the teacher.

"Yes, that's correct. All magic users fall into one of those two. Us witches fall into the light magic, even the darkest, most evil witch still uses light magic. There are others who would also fall into this side such as angels."

"Angels exist?"

"Supposedly. I've never met one," You said. "Even though there is light and dark magic, the purpose a person uses it for can differ. You know who I mentioned a witch using her light magic for evil?" Emily nodded. "She would be using-"

You went on explaining to Emily. A few of the girls around her joined in listening to you explain the course to her. You added pointers their teacher hadn't mentioned and some you picked up from your years of living a magic-filled life. You only noticed you had stolen the attention of all the girls when the others began asking you questions. The teacher was gone from where you last saw her. You asked the girl what the teacher's name was. You had forgotten to ask earlier.

"I'm so sorry Zoe, I didn't mean to take over your class," you said when you finally spotted her. "I was only trying to help Em with her work."

"Em?" Emily repeated.

"I give all my friends and family nicknames. I didn't think-" She leapt up and gave your waist a hug before you got another word in. She repeated the word friend back to you excited by the prospect of gaining a new friend. You gathered she was new or had a hard time with people since she found the idea of you being her friend exciting. You chuckled, rustling her hair with your hand. "Okay, enough hugging. I better let you get back to class. I stole enough of your time."

"Actually, class is over," Zoe said.

"Oh~ I'm so-" You went to apologise when the woman cut you off.

"No, it's fine. It's better they understand the work then rushing ahead and then not knowing it correctly." She silently conferred that what you had said to them was correct. She would have interrupted, adding her two sense if something seemed off. The teacher found your allegory's to be helpful in explaining the content as well as refreshing.

"Zoe's right, it's better that they understand the work. One wrong preformed spell and it could be disastrous." You knew that voice anywhere. "I was informed that we had a new student, so I came down as soon as I-"

Your head perked up to look at the woman that owned your body and soul. Your eyes begged for her to recognise you, to pull you into her embrace. You smiled sweetly at her in the way only you could. She returned the gesture. Her face was warm and welcoming as ever but as she got a better look at you, you noticed the change in her expression. The shift was slight but noticeable solely because you sought it out. You pulled yourself away from Emily carefully. As soon as you were detached, you headed over to the headmistress offering your gloved hand to her.

"L/N." She accepted your offer of a handshake. Her grip was strong excuding confidence dissimilar to the woman you left behind years prior. You kept a natural level of eye contact to not seem suspicious. Giving your last name was a test. You didn't want to scare her off immediately nor face the slap she will most likely give you when she puts the pieces together. "I was actually here to offer to be a teacher if you needed one," you said. "I know you had a large incline of students recently as well as limited staff. I don't know if that has since changed. Even if you just need someone to mark homework or assessments, I don't mind. I have all the credentials I would need for a normal teaching job along with working with children's card. Everything's in my satchel." You didn't find in necessary to mention the repercussions of not being accepted. Stating your problems wasn't your way. They were yours, there was no need to share.

"We can discuss this further in my office." Cordelia gestured into the hallway. You waved bye to the girls and said goodbye to Zoe.

Before Cordelia left Zoe pulled her aside. She noticed the facial expression shift too.

"You alright Cordelia?"

"Yeah," She whispered back to her friend. "She looks like a friend, I had years back."

"She could be a relative. Sister, daughter, cousin-"

"She had no living family," Cordelia told Zoe. "The girl's too old to be a daughter." She sighed, "It's fine, it's a freaky coincidence."

"You don't need to hire her."

"It would be helpful to have some extra help around here. She seemed to be great with the younger ones and we know how much of a feat that is." They both chuckled. "I shouldn't keep her waiting."

Cordelia kept eyeing you occasionally when talking to Zoe. You gathered she was talking about you, but it wasn't your place to listen. It's not nice to eavesdrop.

You remained quiet, listening for her to talk as the two of you headed to her office. Upstairs, first room on the right, just as you remembered. "As you know, that is Zoe. We had another teacher but unfortunately, we lost her. You will occasionally see an older woman here named Myrtle; she doesn't teach the students, but she helps me with council work." You smiled knowing Myrtle was here and still a part of the council.

Cordelia opened her office allowing you to walk in first. You noticed the familiar redhead in the corner of Cordelia's office drinking. Cordelia told you to take a seat at her desk while she got the paperwork ready. You pulled out your documentation placing it on the table before drawing your attention to the older woman behind you. Myrtle was talking to Cordelia about something irrelevant to you when she stopped mid-sentence, something you had never seen her do.

Cordelia cleared her throat, earning your attention. You spun around slowly. Cordelia told you that your documentation would not be relevant since they had an unorthodox away of job selecting. The past isn't relevant to her as long as you weren't her to bring harm to her girls. You insisted she took a look to ease your mind and to make her away of your qualifications.

"Now Y/N-" She wasn't meant to say that. She quickly went to cover it up, "Sorry I mean-" She picked up your papers searching your name on them.

"No, you were right." You adjusted the wire framed glasses on your face. One of the few new things about you. "Y/N M/N L/N."

"Is Y/N a family name?" Cordelia asked. "Like how some men name their son's the same name but call them junior."

"I don't believe so," You said, acting oblivious. You already came off strong demanding a job. "I don't have much of a family."

Cordelia's eyes widened. It couldn't be?

"Can I see your ID?"

"Sure." You fish through your bag pulling out a worn-down purse that she gifted to you years ago. Cordelia went to say something but held herself back, instead looking over to Myrtle with a questioning look. The oldest woman in the room shared the same level of confusion. "I should warn you; I apparently look a lot younger than my age."

You handed over your card to Cordelia.

"Y/n, what had you want to become a teacher?"

"Well, that's a tough question. I mean, where to begin?" You laughed. "I've always had a knack for the history of the Salem coven and it transformed into a fascination with magic in general. I guess I want to put my knowledge to good use. There's no point allowing it to waste away up here and recording it down in a book never sounded as appealing as verbally communicating it." Cordelia nodded along keeping a hold of your identification. "One of my friends used to joke that we'd both be here teaching together. Things didn't go as planned."

"They never do." Cordelia said. "I hope you don't mind but I need a secondary opinion on your resume." She ushered over Myrtle and the two had a quick conversation. She didn't believe you, she had to be asking about if it was possible, Myrtle would probably suggested plastic surgery as a possibility as to your appearance or some other thing you couldn't do.

"Could she have done Tempus Infinituum or something similar? It would explain why I- we haven't heard anything from her." The two look at you sat there twiddling your thumbs.

You always assumed your ageless appearance was some genetic thing or something to do with your magic. You're still trying to figure that out and was hoping she could help you out with that, or someone here could. Obviously, that wasn't your purpose for coming back.

"Is it really you Y/N?"

You nodded. Her eyes teared up and a smile formed on her face. She shook her head not wanting to jump the gun or overstep her boundary. It had been years and she had no clue what you had been through. It would have to be hell in order for you to leave. The two of you were inseparable before you vanished.

"I can prove it. Ask me anything only I would know."

Your words were enough, the tale you told of your friend and how much of a history buff you were.

"I can do one better, give me your hand." She laid her hand out for you to grab. You didn't understand. "A lot has happened since you left, one being I got The Sight."

As soon as you heard that you grabbed her hand allowing the skin to skin contact to explain away everything it had to. It hit you a second later, you shouldn't have rushed it. There were things she didn't need to know that she may now have access too. She tore your glove from your hand allowing her fingers to slip between yours. She gasped watching your earlier twenties up until now flash through her mind.

She retracted from you, allowing herself a moment to get air in her lungs. "Y-y-you-" she stuttered. Her eyes flicked from you to her aunt. Shock covered her face. Her eyes settled on you and you expected her to say something about how this was unbelievable. "Why are your hands so cold?"

"What?" Not what you were expecting.

"You're freezing, I'm going to find you a blanket."

"You don't need to, I'm fine-" Her glare at you urged you to shut you up quickly. She used to do the same thing back in the day. "I'm serious, I'm always this cold. Why do you think I dress like this?"

You got up, following her down the corridor and up the stairs to a bedroom. You attempted to reason with her that you were fine, you were always ice cold which concerned her more. "That's not normal Y/N/N" 'Y/N/N?' You smiled upon hearing your nickname from long ago.

"You'll learn not a lot about me is-" You kidded.

"Sit down on the bed, I'm getting out the winter blankets."

"But it's summer-"

"And your freezing."

She headed into her closet only returning a few minutes later with the thickest blanket she owned. You were already dressed inappropriately for the weather, cloaked in long sleeved maxi length dress, thick woollen stockings, below the knee boots that were hidden by your dress. You also had a cardigan you removed upon entering the school grounds. Cordelia wrapped the blanket around before forcing you to lay down. You whined, using that you were wearing shoes as an excuse. She removed them, seeing how much big the sole was she asked, "How do you walk in these?"

"How do you walk in heels?"

"Touche."

The two of you started cackling. Soon you were swaddled up in a blanket, lying on what you assumed was Cordelia's bed telling stories and laughing at each other's misfortune like it was old times. You had learned the unfortunate events that led to her ex-husbands death. A witch hunter, you should have guessed.

"I missed you," Cordelia admitted. You remained quiet, wanting to say it back but not having the courage. Like the last time, you had seen her, her wedding. You, the maid of honour, left early. You knew you would have to explain it to her, but you couldn't. You didn't want to force your feelings onto her, that's why you never told her then and that's why you can't tell her you missed her now. You missed her more than she could ever believe. "I saw- I mean... I know. I know you miss me too." She moved closer to you, resting her head onto your shoulder. "I know you missed me too."

#cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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ssa-lesbian · 4 years

Text

this life is controlled confusion (2/3)

word count: 2.75k words

JJ’s relationship with blood and Emily.

-> read on AO3

I II III

(S5E3, Reckoner. Contains descriptions of gore and vomiting.)

because i craved this word: i want

-sappho

—

Henry has her blue eyes and golden locks, with only Will’s lankiness as the only similarity between the love of her life and the coward who left her.

Which isn’t a bad thing, she realizes, tucking her phone away after getting off a call with her son and Garcia, who was taking care of him during the overnight case. The New Orleans cop wasn’t in his (or her) life anymore, and for the best. Will, who had run away the moment she told him of the pregnancy; Will, who begrudgingly agreed to pay child support only when JJ threatened to take him to court with Hotch as her lawyer; Will, who she hadn’t seen since Henry’s birth— he didn’t deserve any bit of Henry.

JJ doesn’t know how to thank Garcia and Spence; they have been a blessing, taking their roles of godparents as seriously as possible. When out on overnight cases, Henry would stay over at Auntie Pen’s, who spoiled him rotten and made sure he had everything he could ever want, and on girls’ nights, Uncle Spence would take over and engross him in the world of whatever Middle Age books he had on hand. And sometimes, on the really long nights, JJ would call Emily, who’d be on her doorstep within minutes and stayed until the sun rose.

“Auntie Emmy,” Henry called her.

It always drew a broad grin from her, face glowing with happiness, and JJ would watch, standing beside her and smiling.

She didn’t know what they were, to be honest. What all the touches, the dancing, the looks meant. What it meant that Emily was always there for JJ and that JJ was always there for Emily. They’ve said “I love you,” definitely, but they also say that to the others.

After that night in Atlanta, JJ had found herself drawn to Emily. Something in the way her brows furrowed together in the BAU conference room, in the way the corners of her mouth tilted upwards when she caught JJ looking at her, in the way she held children with both the gentleness of a mother and the ferocity of a lion, and sometimes, JJ has wondered what it would be like if Emily were Henry’s mother as well.

But her little blond angel was all of theirs, with what Auntie Pen called his “gorgeous sapphires” and what Uncle Spence called “recessively inherited blond genes,” and in the really dark nights, he’s JJ’s light, illuminating her world.

Which may also be her weakness, she supposes. Because after coming back from maternity leave, it is so hard to not open the case files and see her Henry in the papers, so tiny and gray, and maybe it clouds her judgement when choosing cases for the team and in the field.

This case is no different. JJ is biased, obviously; Judge Schuller opting to hunt down those who had done wrong, especially to children? She understands. She really does, so maybe that’s why she stays so close to him, shielding him from the onslaught of reporters, vision distorted from the harsh sunlight and only following Morgan’s shouting so as to find the path to the waiting police vehicle. A swarm of reporters slithers in through the cracks, and JJ actually feels someone grab her arm. She turns on them, pulling together all of her liaison training to not slap the yelling frenzy confronting her.

There’s a harsh bang! and something wet splattering onto her, and JJ jerks back instinctively, hands flying to her face to wipe, but her fingers come away hot and heavy. There’s something in her mouth, a distinct metallic taste, and as she stares at the dark maroon dripping from her fingers and watches Judge Schuller crumple to the ground, she knows—

“Get down!” she hollers, hands flying down to her holster to draw her gun, but it’s like she’s screaming into nothing, there’s this empty plane of silence all around her and a sharp ringing in her ears. JJ can see mouths moving, can see Rossi’s horror as he clutches the fallen judge and Morgan’s twisted fury as he scans the perimeter, and maybe JJ should be thinking about what this means but it feels like acid, melting away at her face, and is this what Roz felt?

Morgan’s in front of her now, holding out a hand, mouth moving, and she stares at him, head pounding, chest heavy, the ringing only growing louder, and he stops moving, only looks at her.

“Morgan,” she tries to say, but she can’t hear herself, and when her mouth opens she can feel the blood all over her skin and where her muscles flex and she’s covered in someone else’s blood.

She doubles over, Morgan catching and holding her steady as she retches, and when she’s done, the ringing has died down but she still feels inexplicably dirty.

“It’s okay, JJ,” she hears someone say, rubbing her shoulders, “it’s okay. Rossi, I think she’s in shock.”

“No,” JJ tries to protest, but her lips are heavy, coated in her bile and his blood, and she retches again, shaking. It’s all over her, soaking into her shirt and dripping down her chest and she’s sinking into it, settled in a tub of nothing but his hot blood, and JJ reaches out to grab her—

It’s Morgan, Morgan’s firm hands who hold her as she comes back, gasping for air, and he’s saying something but JJ can’t hear because—

“Emily,” she says, “Emily, I need Emily.”

JJ’s completely topless when someone knocks on the door of the hospital’s bathroom, and she only barely stifles her yelp when through the door, “JJ, it’s Em.”

“I’m not wearing anything,” she says.

A pause, and then, “This isn’t the first time.”

JJ can hear the smile in her voice, and she goes to unlock it, her other arm going up to cover her chest. Emily slips in, quietly and stealthily, and she breaks into a smile, although JJ doesn’t miss the concern in her eyes.

“Hey,” she says quietly.

“Hey,” is JJ’s response. She reaches out, and Emily meets her halfway, taking her hand into hers and intertwining their fingers. Her soft touch stills JJ immediately, and somehow, for the first time in the past thirty minutes, she exhales easily.

They stay like that, hands locked and studying each other, and from how close they are, JJ can make out each individual eyelash and the little flecks of gold nestled in Emily’s eyes.

“I look awful,” JJ says.

They tried to wash her face in the ambulance ride to the hospital, some poor paramedic dabbing at her face with a wipe, but she was shaking and flinching too much, recoiling behind the shock blanket they gave her, and when they suggested a sedative, JJ almost said yes. Almost lost herself in that cloud of nothing, before she got the text from Emily that she would meet her at the hospital.

“I can do it,” she told them.

The paramedic raised their eyebrow at her and said nothing, only giving her the wipe.

At the hospital, they screened and gave her more wipes and a water bottle before sending her off to a bathroom, and the moment she locked herself in, she ripped off her blood-stained shirt. JJ was going to throw it away, burn it, whatever, there was no chance of the blood washing out, and when she saw her bra, bloodstained as well, she tore it off and threw it onto the ground with her shirt. Except the blood was still on her, and she took the wipes and started scrubbing and for a few horrible moments it was like the blood would not wash off of her and it was just spreading and she was covered in blood and she was dirty and disgusting and she was—

A hand cupping her cheek shocks JJ out of her memories, and she flinches at the touch before melting into it, closing her eyes and nestling into the softness of Emily’s hand, inhaling that lavender scent.

“I brought you your clothes,” Emily murmurs, hoisting up JJ’s go bag, and she hums as an answer, taking the arm at her chest to cover the hand on her cheek.

They’re standing close enough to each other that JJ can feel the gentle puffs of Emily’s breath on her and the warmth that only she has. Like in this bustling hospital, it is only the two of them. When she opens her eyes, it’s to meet the smokey brown ones of Emily, staring at her with a tenderness JJ has seen only when they’re together.

“Thank you,” JJ says finally, taking the bag and stepping back reluctantly, unwilling to leave the warmth of Emily.

The brunette smiles, still watching her, and JJ laughs as she turns around, reaching into the bag.

“What are you waiting for?” JJ asks, finding a soft piece of fabric and pulling it out before stopping herself. “Em—”

It’s a gray t-shirt. It’s Emily’s gray t-shirt, made from some incredibly soft cotton and ridiculously oversized, and JJ turns to Emily, gripping it in her hand.

“This isn’t mine,” JJ says.

Emily moves closer to her, reaching out to gently push the shirt towards JJ, a cheeky grin on her face.

“I know,” she says. “But I also know this is your favorite shirt of mine,” she adds, and JJ stares at her blankly until Emily sighs.

“Jayj, it’s for you.”

“What?”

“I thought you would want it.”

The way Emily looks, with her soft eyes and gentle smile and with so much love radiating from her, JJ wants her. She steps forward before wrapping her arms around Emily, pressing their bodies together and burying her face in her hair. Emily melts into the embrace, one arm going to JJ’s back, the other tangling in her hair, and JJ feels clean. Calm. Good.

Thank you, she tries to say.

JJ knows Emily understands.

And when they’re on the jet back home, when Emily slides into her seat and sets a mug of coffee (one cream, two sugars, just how JJ likes it) down in front of her before patting her knee, JJ thanks her with her eyes, watching Emily as she shifts in her seat for a moment before settling in and taking her novel to read. The initial adrenaline pumping through her body has thoroughly washed out of her, and she’s tired, with only enough energy to trace Emily’s body— the perfect arch of her neck, the slope of her nose, the curtains of her hair— with her eyes.

And she’s cold, despite the soft blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and JJ is tired enough that when she leans onto Emily, tucking her head underneath Emily’s jaw and resting on her collarbone, she doesn’t care that she’s in full view of her boss and that maybe this is breaking protocol. But when their eyes meet, Emily’s warmth gives JJ the energy to hold Hotch’s gaze, to not be afraid, and maybe she’s imagining things, but Hotch’s eyes soften almost minutely before he turns back to his papers.

Emily drops by JJ’s apartment after she puts Henry to sleep, a text notification from JJ’s phone alerting her of the brunette’s arrival, and when she goes to open the door, the sight of Emily, out of her work clothes and in casual jeans and a sweatshirt, causes a smile.

“Hey,” JJ says, stepping back to let her in. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to drop by,” Emily says, stepping into the apartment and out of her boots, and JJ raises her eyebrow.

There’s something else under there, she knows, that Emily won’t say out loud. It’s routine at this point, her coming over after any particularly hard case, and while JJ protested at first, she won’t deny that she enjoys waking up next to her. Or that Emily does keep her grounded.

And it goes both ways, she knows. Not that Emily would ever tell her, but if she ever sought JJ out, it was because she found peace in JJ.

“Wine?” she offers instead.

They end up on the couch in front of her TV, JJ curled up into Emily’s side, the brunette gently combing through JJ’s hair while rewatching Lilo and Stitch. It’s one of the many Disney movies JJ has for movie nights with Henry, and eventually Emily, when she realized how much Emily enjoyed animated films (not that she would ever tell Morgan or Penelope). Emily takes a sip from her wine glass, eyes never leaving the screen as Jumba and Pleakley dissolve into another mindless argument, and then asks her a question so quiet JJ has to ask her to repeat it.

“Do you ever wonder how Disney managed to sneak in a queer couple into a movie made in 2002?”

“What?”

Emily nods, the edges of her mouth curling up as she sneaks a teasing smile towards JJ. Over the course of the movie, they’ve shifted around to the point that JJ’s almost on top of Emily, her head nestled underneath her chin and her knee resting on Emily’s leg, JJ’s fingers tracing patterns over her jeans.

“Think about it,” Emily says. “Pleakley and Jumba are stuck together for the duration of the film, and they go undercover as a female-male couple, with Pleakley dressing and enjoying his female dress wear.”

JJ’s fingers still, resorting to only gently rubbing, and she listens to Emily’s heartbeat underneath Stitch’s shrieking. Truthfully, she hasn’t been listening for the past half hour, but she’s watching this enough times with Emily that she could recite it by heart.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” JJ says. “But nothing about this movie is conventional, so it’s not surprising.”

“Do you ever wish Will was a better man?”

JJ startles, lifting her head to stare at Emily, who flinches and shakes her head immediately.

“Sorry, that was so— wow, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, just—”

JJ has never seen Emily so panicked, which is saying something, considering she’s also seen Emily get smacked over the head with a wooden plank and, and instinctively, she reaches out to take Emily’s hand in her own.

“Where did that come from?” JJ asks.

Emily shakes her head, fingers fidgeting and eyes downcast, and JJ’s heart swells.

“Hey,” she whispers, raising her other hand to Emily’s head.

When she doesn’t flinch away, JJ gently cups her cheek and slowly brings her up to eye-level. There’s a rawness in her eyes that makes JJ want to hug her, take her, kiss her, anything to ease the pain.

“It’s just me,” she whispers instead. “You can tell me.”

Emily almost melts into her hand, eyes fluttering closed before opening, and she exhales.

“I just wondered if you’re happy,” she says quietly. “I’ve always wanted— but I can’t—”

Their fingers intertwine, but JJ doesn’t prompt Emily on. Lets her speak for herself.

“I don’t know if I could ever find someone to raise a family with,” Emily says at last, and there’s a raw desperation in her voice that sneaks past her usual compartmentalization.

JJ squeezes her hand.

“I don’t need Will to be happy,” she says. “I have Henry, and I have you.”

She wonders if Emily will understand in the silence that follows, her thumb rubbing JJ’s hand, in the way that Emily looks at her, gazes at her, cheek still cradled in her hand, like JJ is the night sky. Emily shifts her weight, and JJ pulls her hand away, but then she’s pulled into an embrace, her body pressed flushed against her co-worker’s. Emily’s arms are wrapped tightly around JJ, burying the blonde’s face into her shoulder, but their weight is uneven, and Emily falls back onto the armrest, JJ on top of her.

This is not how co-workers should be acting, she knows. Morgan did not call out Spence’s name when struggling with his own trauma, they did not spend so many nights in the same bed and wake up curled in each other’s arms, they did not wonder if they could raise a family together.

And yet here they are, JJ nestled on top of Emily and between her legs, arms holding them close, Emily clutching JJ in some desperate hold as though she is afraid of losing her, and JJ wants to hold her even tighter and revel in her lavender scent and tell her, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I love—

#oh the ANGST #the PINING #gaymers they are in LOVE #jemily #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #jemily fanfic #jemily fanfiction #my art #jj #jennifer jareau #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #YES i quote sappho #i'm a disaster gay what do you expect from me #tlicc

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stevebuckyfics · 5 years

Text

Endgame Fix-it Fics

Hello! So, it’s about a week in and I’ve read some fantastic post-endgame fix its, and I thought I’d share them. I’m sure there are more, but these are the ones I loved. I might make another post later on, when I’ve read more :)

Please heed author notes and tags for specific warnings, I will just link the fics with their summary!

born in fire (again and again) by defcontwo

Natasha lands, in dust and sand and light, in the middle of a great landscape of nothingness. She sits up, and touches one hand to the back of her head, and it comes away wet and sticky with blood.

There’s copper in the back of her mouth, and she spits it out into the sand, watching with satisfaction as the blood splatters into the otherwise pristine surface.

“Huh,” Natasha says. “So this is death.”

when we came home by augustbird ( @augustbird )

Fighting is hard. Rebuilding is harder. Post-Endgame AU.

like heaven stood up in you by napricot

“You said you were gonna miss him,” says Bruce slowly. “He was supposed to be back in five seconds, but you hugged him and said ‘I’m gonna miss you.’”

Bucky’s face is serene again now, and gives nothing away. “I know Steve,” he repeats. “You think you can hand him a time machine and some rocks of unspeakable power and he’s just gonna go put ‘em right back where they belong?”

Steve does put the Infinity Stones right back where they belong. He just does a couple other things too. Or: three timelines and a Reverse Time Heist.

picture it soft by midnightroom

When Steve lurches awake, his heart is pounding in his chest. His shirt, soaked in sweat, clings damply to his skin. One fist is clutching the sheets of the bed, and the other is clenched so hard he can feel his fingernails making little half-moons in his palm.

Thanos—

The Stones. Dust drifting through the air, ash so thick you could choke on it. Five endless, aching years of white noise. His team. The lunacy of time travel, the mind-bending, fuse-blowing reality of hand-to-hand combat with himself. The bruise blooming across his cheek to serve as proof. A soft jazz song playing on a record, a crackling hearth, red lipstick. Death, death, death—

Beside him, Bucky shifts in his sleep, turns over so he's facing Steve. His eyes are closed and his mouth is parted, and Steve can see the dark shadow of his hair spread across the pillow like an ink-stain.

(or, Steve and Bucky in the aftermath of Endgame, picking memories apart.)

Ever Mine, Ever Ours by hitlikehammers

Steve goes back to return the Stones, for the sake of the universe.

The extra Pym Particles he palms when Bruce isn't looking, though? Those are for the heart he has now and the heart he took into the ice; those are for the loves he's known and held and lost and found, those—

Those are for the sake of his soul.

Avengers: Endgame Fix-It.

Lichtenberg Figures by rustywrites

Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame

The scars take some getting used to.

(An ending re-work where everybody lives)

When People See Us by Brokenpitchpipe

Rumlow knocks his shoulder good-naturedly. “Hail HYDRA.” “Thanks,” Steve says automatically, “you too.”

Hearing “Bucky’s still alive” in his own voice might have been a little unexpected, sure. But Steve’s definitely not prepared for the entirety of STRIKE to suddenly and inexplicably think he’s a secret Nazi. (He’s not prepared to learn there are secret Nazis either, for the record.)

the epitaph of an old record player by celestialfics ( @liquidsaints )

Peggy, intelligent and adaptable as ever, takes the entirety of his story and mulls over it in her head for a time, sitting across from Steve and studying his face. Her eyes are set, eyebrows furrowed, chin sitting in her hands.

After a long while, she speaks.

“Go home, Steve,” she says, voice sure; she’s determined as she’s always been.

found a place to rest my head (never let me go) by bulletsandbutterflies

ENDGAME SPOILERS.

He tries not to dwell on the unfairness of it. How they had only just been reunited before he was taken away from Steve again. Dwelling makes it harder to move on.

But it’s hard to forget him when he comes to Steve in his dreams. Sometimes, they’re sixteen again, drinking glass after glass of cheap beer to forget the harsh reality that they were struggling to meet ends meet. Other times, they’re in the war, huddled together in the trenches to keep themselves warm from the unforgiving chills of winter.

And there are nights where Steve feels hands on his skin, warm and metal, soft lips against his own.

In which, Endgame decided to ignore Stucky completely so I've come here to fix it.

Part 3 of been waiting a hundred years (and I'd wait a million more)

I Drew a Line for You by Brokenpitchpipe

"What are you doing here, Steve?" Peggy asks.

"I'm," Steve says. "Living."

Peggy smiles. But it's a smile he recognizes, a smile that means she's guessed at the truth and she's guessed right. "No," she says, "you're not."

kingdoms have fallen, angels are calling (none of that could ever make me leave) by bornes

It’s been a long day. It’s been a long five years.

stay by birdjay

The platform buzzes, and suddenly goes quiet. The cycle has finished. Bucky doesn’t bother to look. There’s no way Steve’s coming back when he has the chance to stay. He moves to walk away, to move on with his life, somehow.

“Buck -- ?”

Bucky whirls around, hair flying.

Who I really am (not who I’m supposed to be) by JayPendragon

[SPOILER WARNING for Endgame]

“Don’t tell me it’s not what you want, buddy. I remember you talking about her. You still got her picture in your pocket. You saved the world, you’re supposed to get the girl.”

Yeah, that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Steve thinks but doesn’t say. Once upon a time, before he saw the changes he only ever dreamed of in the thirties come to life in all the colors of the rainbow, before learning that Bucky survived… Back then, he would have agreed.

The Rest of Our Lives by cleo4u2

SPOILERS STOP READING CHRIST

Fix if fic, picking up when Steve hops into the time machine at the end of the movie and telling what Steve really did for the rest of his life. Hint, it's not a she.

There's Only Now, There's Only Here by stevergrsno ( @stevergrsno )

“Steve,” Peggy says when she reaches him with quick, steady steps, her- husband and friend? friends? partners? following behind at a more sedate pace.

“Uh,” Steve says, and “Hi?” and “Would you mind telling me what the date is?”

1951. Steve aimed for home and ended up in fucking 1951.

Jesus christ.

---

In which Steve not showing up on the time pad wasn't exactly on purpose and we ignore 95% of that ending.

kiss me twice by espinosas

ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!

Hey. Still Endgame spoilers.

AU where Steve comes back for Bucky.

You'll see him soon. by JDHD

"Go," Bucky said to Sam, because the thought of having to face the man in front of him - the man he no longer knew - was so much more than Bucky could handle. He was like tinfoil, and he was being crushed gently in a fist, and he just wanted to come out without any rips.

He met Sam's eye, and the other man shook his head for a moment. "No. He looked for you for years, Barnes. Maybe he can explain."

----

BIG OL' ENDGAME SPOILERS.

End of Endgame fix it because we deserve better.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice by obsessivereader ( @yetanotherobsessivereader )

Staring at the empty platform where Steve had stood just a moment ago, Bucky experiences one of the longest five seconds of his life. Steve’s not coming back, he thinks, over and over, Steve’s not coming back.

“…two, one.”

A weird distortion shimmers in the air as Steve materializes on the platform. Bucky lets out his breath in a quiet rush. He was so sure. He said his goodbyes and convinced himself that he’d get by just fine, that he was happy that Steve could finally have the life he’d always wanted with Peggy. He knew enough about the machine to know that Steve had a chance to go back to the 40s and pick up the life that was lost to him when he crashed the Valkyrie. And yet, here’s Steve back again, looking tired, dusty, disheveled. Bucky can’t tell what Steve’s thinking as their eyes meet. He’s never seen Steve’s eyes look so blue.

Part 2 of Fix-its that my heart needed

i say your name by rohkeutta ( @rohkeutta )

Bucky’s sitting on the back porch steps, curled up against the chill, when the door opens and closes behind him. Sam, perhaps, awoken by Bucky’s nightmares that lurk in the corners of the rooms: shadows that no longer stand up, ghosts who have laid their rifles down.

Bucky doesn't turn. If it's Sam, he can stay. If it's someone else, they can keep the ghosts.

whatever a sun will always sing is you by onibi ( @canobic )

Steve comes back.

It's Been a Long, Long Time (Coming) by bangyababy ( @bangyababy )

He says it'll take five seconds.

Bucky hopes that he's made the right decision.

He counts.

Five.

lighting up in the shadows by buckyjerkbarnes ( @fypoedameron )

"Don't you know by now there's nothing in the world that could make me walk away from you?"

[Or: a fix-it for Endgame because it would seem I have to do everything around here.]

Another Life by Palebluedot ( @brightbluedot )

"Hey, you," he says as he sits.

~~~

Or, it's been a long, long time, indeed.

(ENDGAME SPOILERS)

#spoilers #endgame spoilers #post endgame #endgame fix it #stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic rec #steve rogers #bucky barnes #post endgame pack #*pack

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isagrimorie · 5 years

Text

The Doctor Who showrunner wars is still in full swing despite the three Doctor Who showrunners being friends IRL, and some things they’ve done and implemented can all boil down to preference.

I wanted to weigh in with my thoughts on this.

I like some things RTD did in his time in Doctor Who, I am very grateful to him for bringing the show back from the war but I also remember slowly getting disgruntled with his writing.

He is a drama writer, and one of the best; RTD has a way of turning a phrase that just fires up the imagination like:“Skaro Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child, the Could-Have-Been-King with his army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres.”

He has also written and help re-write my favorite two-parter of Revival!Who Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit, Midnight, Turn Left, and Children of Earth. The problem is as much as he loves both camp (sometimes the results can work, sometimes it doesn’t), RTD’s cynicism does leak through.

He tried to fight against those instincts in Doctor Who but you can see the strain show as he struggled to keep that cynicism away from the show.

There’s also the part where his frequent joke targets are middle aged women. And TBH, I was tired of Ten’s God Complex (“I am the final authority!”) and how the narrative rarely call him out on it. Unlike Nine, he started to believe his own press and the press of other people

I wasn’t keen on the way he joked about appearances of women above thirty, and tbh, I was tired of Ten’s God Complex (“I am the final authority.”) and how the narrative refused to call him out on it.

Ten believing his own press could have been interesting if the narrative didn’t think he was right. For example, The Water of Marscould have been interesting but I thought WoM resolved Ten’s Time Lord Victorious moment far too soon and easily.

I thought they could have explored more about the ‘Time Lord Victorious’ moment for at least another episode, or have The End of Time comment on it.

Apart from series 1, all of RTD’s series finales were heart-wrenching; each finale I ended up feeling like I was going twenty rounds against a meat grinder.

It was why I loved and will continue to love series 5 and how refreshingly happy the ending was.

No one was trapped in another dimension! No one had to single-handedly stop an apocalypse and have their family enslaved, or mind-wiped.

In the scheme of things, I think in certain aspects, Moffat’s storytelling style is more on line with my tastes. The fairytale seasons. Even Twelve becomes a fairytale Doctor, and I wager that his arc in series 8 is remembering the joy and becoming the fairytale Doctor again.

Another reason why I love series 5, coming directly from Ten’s Lonely God thing, was that a lot of people called out the Doctor on their God Complex and made their self-loathing a lot more text. I also loved the fairy tale aspect of his seasons.

But like with RTD not everything Moffat’s done is my favorite, there were some stories that had missteps, and one of those missteps was Moffat trying to out clever himself. Credit to him for swinging for the fences but he also started to spread himself too thin working on two shows, and the seams showed.

One of the criticisms about Moffat’s writing is character work, and he had no interest in the Companions’ families.

I’m in the middle. I have issues but also (especially after rewatching) I was more forgiving, as an example, in the end I didn’t care as much about the state of Amy’s parents.

No, that’s wrong, I did care.

I cared the first time I watched Angels Take Manhattan, I cared so much that when Amy and Rory disappeared I was so angry because all I could think about was Amy’s parents and Brian (Rory’s dad). I cared to the point that it was one of the reasons why I stopped watching.

On subsequent rewatches, I’ve reconciled with the idea that Companion families and family dynamics (the Companion’s parents) isn’t something Moffat was interested in. It took Chibnall to give Rory a dad (interesting that parent-child dynamic is really something Chibnall is drawn to).

Honestly, if family dynamics isn’t something he is interested in, that’s fair. Also, Amy’s parent’s weren’t a factor since series 6 and Amy’s parents might have well fallen back into the Crack for all we know.

Rewatching also helped me come to terms with some narrative choices I wasn’t fond of. Binge (re)watch tended to sand down any rough parts and I find rewatching can help me hold the shape of a story more.

Still, it took a while to realize Eleven acting big and bombastic was deliberate. Moffat needed Eleven to be big and loud, and full of himself so he can also go crashing down. It falls in line with what River describes the Doctor she knew: “Now my Doctor, I’ve seen whole armies turn and run away. And he’d just swagger off back to his Tardis and open the doors with a snap of his fingers.”

One of the things I wasn’t satisfied with Moffat’s writing (and there were plenty) was how series 6 dealt with child loss. Or, how s6 initially didn’t deal with child loss. The writing would eventually address it, and most prominently in The Wedding of River Song in a fantastically chilling scene between Amy and Kovarian.

But even then I felt it wasn’t enough. Emotional continuity during this time was very low.

This brings me to River. I loved her the moment she stepped on screen in Silence in the Library but my love for her character cooled because of series 6. My theory is Moffat wrote himself into a corner trying to out grand series 5.

For those taking notes at home, I watched Doctor Who sporadically during series 7 and then stopped watching at Angels Take Manhattan. I stopped watching until Day of the Doctor happened.

**DotD* reignited my love for Doctor Who! So much so that I went back and binged series 7.

I liked s7 well enough except for how Amy and Rory left, that still sticks in my craw. I would have been okay if the Ponds left at the end of the Power of Three. Unfortunately, for Revival!Who, there’s an expectation now that Leaving Stories should be hard and tragic, and breaks your heart. I don’t always need grand leaving stories.

TBH, with the exception of The Day of the Doctor, Series 7B is one of my least favorite Moffat seasons.

One of the many factors was the way the writers kept giving Matt Smith big speeches. The writers know he can do big speeches so they kept writing big speeches for him. It was their default.

Also, as one podcast speculated series 7B could have been where the writers realized (belatedly) that Smith was actually quite hunky. This and Moffat being too busy to manage the next half of the season because of The Day of the Doctor can explain the disaster that was the Time of the Doctor.

TotD remains as one of my least favorite Doctor Who episodes ever. (Well, not ever, there are some series 2 and 3 episodes that stand above it).

And then the Capaldi era.

This was the turn around where I started loving Moffat’s work again. It wasn’t easy to get to that point though, and like the previous series, there was a time I fell off the Doctor Who wagon because the first half of Capaldi’s season didn’t click with me.

I found him far too mean and unlikable which broke my heart since I loved Capaldi.

But a binge, again, sanded down all sins (well, notall) and now the difficult and prickly series 8 is something I really enjoy because knowing where Twelve ended up in his character journey helped.

This is why, I don’t mind getting spoiled about a show, as long I only get the broad strokes but not the details. I love finding out what his journey was and I don’t think I would have come back if I didn’t know where he ended up.

I think I saw snippets of Zygon Inversion speech on YouTube, and then I decided to give Husbands of River Song convinced me to finally watch all of Twelve’s run.

And now Twelve is my favorite Doctor.

Moffat’s writing didn’t magically become perfect (to me) but I loved the themes he chose to tackle for Twelve. Twelve is another PTSD!Doctor but unlike Nine, he had an opportunity to grow from that trauma. (And get fresh ones — thanks Time Lords!).

I love that Moffat used Twelve’s stories as a way to interrogate Ten’s stories culminating in Heaven Sent/Hell Bent.

IMO, Twelve’s relationship with Clara is similar to Rose and Donna. Twelve and Clara developed quite a co-dependent relationship by the time series 9 rolled around. They never quite achieved the height of smugness that was the first minutes of Impossible Planet nor have they ever been as obnoxious as Ten and Rose were in Tooth and Claw. Possibly because the Doctor’s older at this point and knows the perils, and similar to Donna because of how Donna kept Ten grounded. And, of course, because of the mindwipe argument that was definitely Moffat’s answer to the mindwiping of Donna, and as Moffat said in the War Games commentary, to the mindwipe of Zoe and Jamie.

And then we have Bill with Twelve, showing the very final form of the Twelfth Doctor. Twelve as a grown-up, feeling settled with himself, finally. He learned a lot of lessons and committed himself to stay in one place.

I love the relationship he built with Bill and while I do love, love, love Jodie Whittaker, I was sad to have only one season of Bill and Twelve. Especially since after Lie of the Land Missy’s story began to have more prominence over Bill’s.

(And there’s the whole Missy thing which tbh would make this a longer post than it already is!).

TLDR. Both showrunners aren’t perfect, sometimes their views don’t align with mine. I loved series 1 because it was my entry point into Doctor Who but there are also things about RTD’s run I wasn’t happy with. Same with Moffat there were things I adored and things that really didn’t sit well with me.

There were points during both showrunner’s time on the show I had to take time off.

Now with Chibnall, the same thread runs through: I like most of his stories in series 11 but it also isn’t perfect and has a lot of room for improvement.

/EDITED

#thinky thoughts #doctor who #moffat era #rtd era

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