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gravityglitch-blog · 3 days

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The Amazing Digital Circus, as seen by a Murder Drones fan

("Candy Carrier Chaos" inspired me to write this. Fair warning, it's a long one. Potential spoilers ahead)

I stumbled into the indie animation scene on YouTube by accident. It was like finding hidden treasure. I have no hate for the big-name studios, but everything I'd been seeing up until then seemed...homogenized...over-processed, somehow? It's hard to describe. Like eating fast food when you want a home cooked meal.

Now here were stories that were all wonderfully different, in subject matter and style. I started with "Lackadaisy", which was so beautiful, it left me stunned.

(The only reason you don't see more Lackadaisy fanart from me is because it's difficult drawing cats. I'm practicing, though.)

A few more clicks brought me to "Murder Drones", and it was love at first sight.

I connected to Uzi's character within her first minutes on-screen. Despite the dark tone of the story, I still hold out hope for a good ending.

Then I started seeing teasers for a new series, "The Amazing Digital Circus".

The art style and bright colors weren't my usual speed, but I decided to check it out anyway.

Personal confession, "Digital Circus" scares me more than "Murder Drones". While "Murder Drones" wears its horror inspirations on its sleeve, to me, it's more the "cool" kind of horror that I would scribble on my notebooks between classes.

Vampires, monsters, battling the forces of darkness while jamming to nightcore, you get the idea.

I have legitimately had nightmares that look like the "Digital Circus". Strange worlds of twisted colors and shapes, people I don't know, doors and staircases that lead nowhere.

All that said, I did enjoy the pilot, I found the setup and the characters interesting, and wanted to see more.

Side note, I know the studio sometimes seems to favor "Digital Circus", and it causes some resentment between the fandoms.

For myself, I see our fandoms as siblings. Let us watch our faves (hopefully) triumph over the horrors together.

This brings me to "Candy Carrier Chaos".

It happened to debut on one of my bad days, when I was feeling down, to put it mildly.

Like I didn't matter. Like no one would notice or remember me if I were gone.

And so that opening scene of Pomni's nightmare hit me like a punch in the gut.

I won't go into the episode's plot too much, as I'm sure others here have already done that and better than I ever could. The whole reason I'm writing this is because of that ending.

The members of the Circus take the time and care to remember the friend they lost in the pilot, apparently the latest of many.

They all feel the pain of loss, of being trapped in this strange world. But they still have each other. For now, at least.

The look on Pomni's face when she realizes she's not alone. When her vision replays, it has changed.

Now, there are helping hands to take hold of her. To pull her back up out of the darkness.

I honestly became a little teary-eyed at that scene. It got me thinking, "maybe the bad days are liars. Maybe I would be missed, after all."

The power of storytelling through animation. With all my heart, I hope this medium continues to grow and flourish. To any aspiring animators and artists out there, this random Tumblr person asks, please don't give up the dream. There are people out there that need to hear your stories.

In the meantime, Pomni remains where she is...and so do I. Thank you so much if you've read this whole thing. I really appreciate it.

#the amazing digital circus #murder drones #lackadaisy #fandom thoughts #indie animation #long may it shine #tracy j butler #liam vickers animation #gooseworx #thank you for sending your stories out into the world

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doomatix · 2 years

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A drawing I did in July for my good friend @ dixon_digital (also regrettably not a hellsite user, though that's her username on Instagram if any of you want to take a look!) for artfight!

An illustration of her Phoenix Soul Sorcerer dnd character who is probably burning down a village. Again.

#doom's doodles #I have attempted to post this many times and tunglr rejects me everytime lmao RIP #digital art #artfight2022 #dnd character #not my character #please go check out my friend's blog her art is amazing #anyways!#this little maniac is an arsonist with golden retriever energy and honestly good for him

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safetypinxtales · 3 months

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400 years | Azriel

summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.

words: 3.2k

warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description

notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍

masterlist

Thud.

The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either.

But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel.

The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks.

“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”

Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles.

That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries.

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.

Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.

It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites.

Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.

You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy.

The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.

It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.

“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes.

“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about?

“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.

“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”

Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room.

The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic.

Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.

“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands.

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.

“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”

“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.

Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…

You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–

“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is that Rhysand?!”

At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you.

The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord.

You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics.

“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!”

The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.

And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….

“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.

The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look.

“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.

His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.

“Oh, please.”

The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.

“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”

Nothing?

From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.

“What? Like you can do better?”

Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours.

He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.

“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.”

The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa.

No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating.

You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement.

He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…

You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield.

His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours.

“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.

You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”

With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks.

“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away.

With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…

You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him.

Let me be your muse.

His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…

Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking.

The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing.

A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother.

The reality?

Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him.

Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.

Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment.

You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers.

You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.

It made it annoyingly hard to focus.

The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped.

“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his.

Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”

400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes.

“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist.

That is a very long time.

Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl.

“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before.

It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong?

You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.”

Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat.

Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye.

The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes.

It took your breath away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head.

His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet.

“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.”

That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face.

“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.

His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.

That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.

There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you.

So dangerously close.

He was your friend.

Right?

“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.”

You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.

“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.

“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”

You froze.

The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.

Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian��s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth.

Azriel loved you?

Azriel loved you.

The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his.

The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage.

He was everywhere.

The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible.

You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air.

You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest.

“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness.

He swallowed, “It is.”

“So is mine,” you revealed.

“Yes, I can hear it.”

Oh.

“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out.

Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his.

This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.

Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.

This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.

It was claiming.

And so you let him claim you.

Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.

A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.

Want to be added to my taglist?

tags: @missus-shadowsinger

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine

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avis-writeshq · 7 months

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02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

***

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

***

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

***

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

***

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks.

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

***

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

***

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen.

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

***

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.

“Yes?” You need something. Anything.

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

***

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers.

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

***

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

***

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

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olsenmyolsen · 3 months

Text

A Sokovian Flower

master list

dark master list

Post Age of Ultron MCU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Wanda wanted a tattoo, which led her to you.

Word Count: 4.1K

Content: Mentions of Sokovia, Wanda's Parents, and dead Pietro. But fluff!

Wanda Maximoff was nervous.

She had never done something like this before.

Her stomach was in knots, and she had no one to blame but herself. Well, she could blame Petiro, but that would be unfair. She could blame Natasha, but that would only end up with her ass hitting the floor. So that wasn't an option.

Anyways, like stated before... Wanda had no one to blame but herself.

But Wanda really, really, really wanted THIS tattoo!

She had thought about it for the last four months since the fall of her home country and relocation to the States. She wanted something that was her own. Something that would pay tribute.

Wanda eventually decided on the national flower of Sokovia.

For her parents and brother.

But as Wanda bites her lip and waits for you to come out from the back, does she now realize that she has to go through with it.

This is going to be on my body forever. But that's what I want, right?

Wanda keeps going back and forth in her own mind. Her eyebrows scrunching and lifting up. Her fingers crossing over one another.

Wanda closes her eyes and breathes out. She calms herself down.

Yep, I can't do this!

Wanda picks up her ID and goes to turn around just when you come out from the back.

Wanda barely made eye contact with you before, but now she sees you and feels her mouth go dry.

The first place her eyes go to are your ears. Full of silver. Very reminiscent of Natasha. Wanda's eyes then travel down your sharp jawline to the holes in your black shirt, exposing your soft skin before they land on the art covering your arms.

Wanda loves the stars and hearts filling the space between your larger pieces.

Wanda brings her eyes back up to you as she realizes that you're speaking to her. Your voice is gentle.

"Are you having second thoughts?" You ask, making Wanda open and close her mouth.

You're not an idiot. You can see the worry and nerves dancing over the face across from you. It's clearly her first time, and you feel bad that she has no friend or anyone else here with her.

You also noticed her checking you out, but it happens, so you let it slide.

"Ummm, yeah. I'm sorry." Her soft voice quietly speaks up. And you're not sure how you missed it earlier, but you hear her accent.

You love it.

You smile at her words and nod your head before turning around to grab your tablet. Wanda watches you turn back and lay it next to the blank form she had yet to fill out.

"Wanda, right?" You ask as you look up from the email she had written a few days prior. She nods her green eyes at you before crossing her arms over her body.

Black nail polish catches your eye. It goes well with her black hoodie, skirt, and thigh-high socks.

You look back down as she steps closer to the counter. "Ah, the flower... here it is." Wanda watches you fly from the email to a saved folder of your drawings. There, she watches you move your pen to three different versions of the flower. Each one having more detail than the last.

You turn the tablet over to show her.

"I hope you don't mind, but I added more detail. I think it looks very pretty with the shading and linework in the leaves." You point to the second drawing as Wanda smiles. Her green eyes dance from one to the next.

"They're amazing." She says with awe in her words without looking up. She lifts her hands over the third design. It has tiny stars and sparkles around the flower, as well as a diamond design behind the main piece.

Wanda lifts her head to you, and your eyes trace her face in a second.

She's gorgeous, and when she smiles, you smile.

"I- uh-" You pull your eyes away and turn the tablet around before you fumble and grab the form for her to sign. "I- um, if you want to go through with it." You lift your eyes and smile. "You'll need to sign this." Wanda reaches up and grabs the form. "And I'll need your ID to make a photocopy." Wanda looks up, and you see her decide her eyes. "Okay."

Wanda hands you her ID before she takes a seat at the couch near the counter to fill out the form. Before placing her ID in the printer, you take a glance at it.

She wears a pout in her photo that makes you hold back a laugh. She looks so cute. You then quickly glance around the ID before placing it down and hitting print.

When you turn around, you see Wanda finishing up her signature as she bites her lip. Her pretty pink lips.

You then look away and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the corner.

You had to get a hold of yourself.

She was a paying customer, not a random girl across the bar. However, it's not like that has worked out well for you before. Ex-girlfriends and all.

You shrug and return to grab the copy of Wanda's ID and her physical one.

"Here you go." She lays the form down on the counter as you hand back her ID. She quickly places it in her small red wallet before gazing at you. "I can show you to the table and let you get comfortable as I prepare the stencil."

Wanda nods, and you notice her hands pull at the end of her sleeves. "It'll be fine." You whisper and nod at her before leading her to your section of the shop.

It's a cute corner full of all your favorite photos, knickknacks, and collectibles from over the years.

The owner is your former mentor and teacher. And usually, on a Saturday morning, the shop would be busy, but for some reason, it's just you and Wanda.

Not that the brunette minded. Obviously. The fewer people around, the better.

So, as you slid into your chair and hit a few buttons on the machine, Wanda stood by the table with the sheet on it.

As the stencil finished printing, you turned back. "Oh shoot. I'm sorry." You got up with a laugh. "Would you like a water or soda or anything?" Wanda was about to shake her head before she looked over your face.

Yeah, she was thirsty.

"A water. Please." You smiled at her command. "Of course." You turned and bent down to the mini fridge at your feet. You pulled out a water bottle and got up before handing it to her. "Thank you." She replied as she took it.

"You can set it down right here." You pointed to a spot on the cart next to the table that Wanda would be laying on soon. "And anytime you need to take a break or have a sip of water. Whatever. During the tattoo, say something, and I'll stop." You made sure Wanda found your eyes. "Okay?" You asked again until she nodded. "Okay."

You closed your mouth and turned back to the stencil to hold in a "good girl."

Wanda's eyes went wide as she blushed.

She definitely didn't mean to hear that!

"Okay..." You cleared your throat and held up two different sizes. "We can place them, and then you can decide which size you want or-"

"That one." Wanda cut you off as she stepped closer to the one in your right hand. "This is perfect." She said under her breath, but you heard her, and it made you smile. "This one." She said as her eyes found yours.

You nodded. "Let's do it." You placed the smaller stencil down. "Okay, and placement... you didn't say on the from."

Wanda sheepishly nodded. "I was thinking my back..." You nodded. "Okay." But when Wanda didn't move, that's when you put two and two together. "Oh, sorry! I'll give you some space." You went to get up and walk away after drawing the curtain to your space close, but Wanda, without thinking, grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I wasn't thinking earlier and-" Wanda stopped herself with a sigh before she laughed.

Angelic.

Wanda's lips spread into a broader smile. You saw her begin to come out of her shell just a little more.

"I'm not wearing a bra." She said before she bit her bottom lip and looked away.

You could tell she was trying to hide her embarrassment. So you reached your hand to the one she had on your arm. "That's okay." You said before you moved your thumb over her knuckle.

Butterflies flew in both of your stomachs.

"May I?" You ask as you lifted your hand off of hers. Wanda nodded and watched your eyes lift themselves to her hoodie zipper. She felt your thumb brush the skin just below her neck.

Soft was her skin, but Wanda felt it burn once your touch left her.

And then you moved the zipper south just the tiniest bit before Wanda lifted her eyes to yours. "I-or- uh, you can unzip it a-and turn it around so the back of the hoodie covers your front."

Wanda heard you stumble and watched how your eyes looked her face up and down. She enjoyed it.

"I can do that." You smiled back and removed yourself from the room to give Wanda privacy.

Less than a minute later, she called you back in. She had her arms over her body as she held the hoodie close to her front. Meanwhile, Wanda's back was exposed to you, and you could see a faint tan line and several moles and beautiful tiny freckles along her body.

"You okay?" You asked as you put a pair of new gloves on before getting the spray and stencil ready. "Yeah," Wanda replied. "Just a little cold."

You stopped and looked around the room. In the winter, you had a heater in here, but with it being late spring, that was long gone. But your eyes did find something else.

"I have this." You pointed to a corner with a large hand-knitted red blanket that your friend Darcy made one semester in college before you dropped out. "You could bunch up under you, or I can place it on your lower back once you're on the table."

Wanda loved how kind you were being and thought about your suggestion. "Would it get in your way?" You shook your head. "Not at all." Wanda believed you. "Okay. Thanks." She smiled and grabbed the blanket. You watched her wrap around her lower back. "I guess I shouldn't have worn a skirt today." Wanda gave a laugh that made your heart skip, and your mouth said words before you could stop it.

"I think you look beautiful."

Wanda's face turned red like your blanket, and the stencil went still in your hand.

"Oh shit!"

Wanda heard your thoughts and said something before you could. "Thank you..." She bit her bottom lip and turned around so you could place the stencil on her back.

A couple of seconds when you came back to Earth, you did.

"Okay." You took a step away. "See how it looks." Wanda turned her head to the right and found the mirror beside you.

It was perfect.

She knew the process was going to hurt, but in this moment, Wanda would do anything to feel closer to the ones she lost.

"I love it." She said after clearing her throat.

That's when you realized that this wasn't just a random flower. This meant something.

"Perfect." You smiled at her green eyes. "Here." You took your gloves off. "Get comfortable, and I'll adjust the blanket however you want." Wanda let you take it from her and noticed as you turned around to give her a little privacy as she laid onto the table.

She smiled at that. "Okay." She said, and from her 90-degree angle, she watched you turn around. She then felt the blanket cover her entire lower body. It was nice and warm. The act and the care behind it.

"Good?" You bent forward, making Wanda nod. "Awesome." You said. "Remember, if at any point you need to stop, let me know." Wanda nodded once again before parting her lips. "Should we come up with a safe word?"

Your glove snapped as it went around your hand when you stopped at her words. You weren't sure if Wanda was joking, but when you saw her pearly whites, you once again got to see her leaving her shell.

You smiled back.

"Wow, Wanda, take a girl to dinner first." You said back as you picked up the tattoo gun and tested it. Wanda laughed over the noise that scared her just slightly before saying: "Pancake."

You knew what she meant. Even if her accent made the word sound exotic. "Pancake." You repeat. She nodded, getting hair into her eyesight that she blew away. "Pancake, it is Wanda." You then rolled the stool closer to her. "I'm about to start. Don't be afraid to bunch your hands and scream or whatever. You'd be surprised what people do."

"I'll be sure to do all of those things." Wanda joked with a wide smile before she felt your arm rest on her back. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps over her body once again. "Are you still cold?" You asked with the needle inches from her.

"I'll be fine." Wanda lied. "Remember Pancake." You said, earning a thumbs up from the brunette.

Seconds later, Wanda was receiving her first tattoo.

Time passed as Wanda did her best not to let the tears in her eyes fall. She knew you were being careful and cautious. Gentle and light. But god, this hurt.

As you moved further down the flower, your eyes briefly looked at Wanda's, and you saw the water filling them. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to..." You were going to talk to her to distract her from the droning buzz of the gun and the pain that came with it. "But." You continued. "I'm always curious about people's first tattoos." Wanda sniffled as her green eyes looked at you. "So why this one?"

Wanda let out a breath. She appreciated that you wanted to know more. "It's the national flower of Sokovia." She said, and you stopped shading as you looked down to her face. She was looking down at you. "Sokovia?" You asked, making her nod.

You knew of Sokovia.

You saw the news reports and watched the footage of buildings falling from the face of the earth. You knew about Ultron and the Avengers. And now how the once Eastern European country was slowly being washed from the world maps.

"You're Sokovian?" You asked. "I am," Wanda replied with her accent heavy. You gave a weak smile and paused before saying. "I'm sorry for what happened."

Wanda swallowed the tears in her throat.

You weren't the first person to apologize for the actions based upon others, but you were the first person who probably meant it.

"Thank you." She quietly replied before letting out a breath and some words of truth. "I was there."

You now leaned back in your stool. Maybe this was a good time for a break.

"When it was lifted into the air?" You asked, earning a nod. And as opposed to asking why she was there or how she survived like Wanda would've expected, you instead asked: "Do you have any favorite memories of Sokovia before you left?"

Wanda took in your words and thought about it.

She nodded.

"Sokovia was always on the brink of Civil War and had an uneasiness to it." Wanda paused and lifted up to drink some water. As she moved, she felt the pain and warmth from the fresh art on her body. Nevertheless, she knew the two of you had a while to go. "But.." Wanda smiled as she laid back onto her stomach. "There was this park close to our apartment. Every day after school, I'd run to the swings and try and launch myself as high as possible." Wanda laughed. "I wanted to fly."

You smiled, and for some reason, it was like you could see the stories clearly in your head.

It was beautiful.

"Nights I loved. After schoolwork and chores when it was just my brother Pitero and our parents watching old American sitcoms and having meals, my Mama grew up with..." Wanda trailed off as her voice became soft. "Those nights I'd give anything to have again."

Wanda didn't even feel the tear slip from her eyes.

But you saw it glimmer in the light, and within a second, your gloves were off as you handed Wanda a tissue.

Her fingertips brushed yours as she took it. "I'm sorry." She patted under her eye. "This is so embarrassing." Wanda balled up the tissue before you reached out for it. "No, it's not." You said as Wanda placed the tissue in the palm of your hand. "I think it's sweet." You smiled at Wanda before getting up to quickly wash your hands.

"I'd love to hear more about Sokovia as long as you want to keep talking about it." You said as you slipped on a new pair of black gloves.

Wanda shook her head yes.

And once the needle made contact with Wanda's skin again, did she tell you stories about the bake shop down the block from her school. Or how her brother was almost kicked off the school's track team. She also recounted her favorite episodes of Bewitched once you teasingly pressured her.

The conversation flowed naturally, and by the end, Wanda didn't feel the pain in her back. She only felt it in her cheeks because she was smiling so damn much.

"Okay." You put the gun down and wiped down Wanda's tattoo one last time. "You're free." You joked with a smile as you tossed your gloves away.

"Oh god, I don't think I've ever been so stiff." Wanda cracked her neck before she moved her legs off the table. She wobbled once her feet hit the ground, but thankfully, you were quick to stabilize her. "Here." You handed Wanda her water. "Don't need you passing out or anything before you see it."

Wanda gladly took a few sips before handing it back.

She then took a few steps forward before turning her exposed back to the mirror on the wall. As her green eyes made contact with the black art, she gasped and let out a ragged breath.

"I love it." She whispered before glancing over at you. Your eyes instantly connected to hers. "I love it." She repeated. Her eyes went back. "It's perfect." Up and down, her eyes went before she turned around to grab her phone.

A smaller iPhone than you were used to seeing.

"Could you take a picture?" She asked you, to which you nodded and smiled like a dummy as Wanda turned her back to you.

"Okay." You said after you perfectly framed her body. "I took about fifteen." You laughed before remembering the phone in your pocket. "Wanda?" You looked up at her. "Hmm?" She lifted her face from her phone. "Could I take a few pictures for my Instagram and website?"

"Of course."

Normally, she would've said no. She hated getting her picture taken. But normally, Wanda didn't get tattoos or become this close to someone like this.

Like you.

You were special.

"Thank you." You nodded to her as you put your phone down and grabbed some hand sanitizer. "Okay, let's get the wrap on, and then I can go over the aftercare."

Wanda's focus was back on you, and she hung on your every word.

"Y/N?" Wanda spoke up as your hand slimmed out the clear wrapping on her tattoo. "Wanda?" You said in the same tone, making Wanda teasingly roll her head away from you.

"I was thinking..." She started as you lifted your touch away from her soft skin. "Yes?" You asked as Wanda turned her face back to you.

She cleared her throat and sat up on the table.

"Could I have the pictures you took?" You easily nodded. "Sure, I can DM you on your Instagram or-"

"You could text them," Wanda said with confidence clear in her voice.

You stopped. "Or I could text them." You smiled as you stood up and grabbed a pamphlet of the aftercare process for Wanda to follow. "Here is everything you need to know." Wanda took it gently from your fingers. "What lotions to use. What soaps to not use... I could also text you this information. If you'd like."

You said as Wanda looked up and handed you back the pamphlet.

"You can text me."

You nodded. "Then I'll text you." Wanda shyly looked away from you as you both wore pink on your faces.

You looked around your space. "If you'd like to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall to the right. If not, I can meet you at the counter, and we can discuss cost. I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Wanda nodded and got up. She pulled the black curtain to your space back and was about to step out when she stopped herself and turned around to you. "Thank you. For everything. I'll probably thank you repeatedly, but I want you to know I mean it. They were with me before, but now their little flower has one for them. " She gave a watery smile, and before you could respond, Wanda walked away.

Wanda pulled out her phone, brushed her eyes, pulled her hoodie around, and stared at the tattoo pictures until you joined her at the front.

When you did, you held the red blanket Wanda had been using earlier. "Here." You said as you sat down next to Wanda on the waiting couch. "I'll text you it later, but one of the final steps of aftercare is to have a warm blanket nearby. So here."

Your kindness throughout the whole day meant more than you'd ever know.

Wanda swallowed and reached over, letting her hand run through the blanket before grabbing yours. Soft was her touch.

You let her fingers brush over your knuckles. "Is there a step about good company?" Wanda questioned as her voice became thicker with her accent. Her body leaning forward. "Yes." You nodded. "Company is supposed to take care of dinner." Your voice had become slow as you carefully weaved into this space with Wanda.

"Dinner?" Wanda husked. You simply smiled. "Text me when you're free?" You raised an eyebrow as Wanda looked up and scrunched her face.

She hadn't felt this way in a long time.

And neither had you. So when Wanda gripped your hand and gave you a very nervous but small peck on the lips, you let her.

And Wanda let you give her a discount even though she used the remaining cash she had as a tip.

Moments later. "Sent." Wanda received your text with a blushing emoji quickly, followed by a detailed step-by-step aftercare plan with a video in case Wanda needed it. "Thank you." She said before she texted back an emoji with a smile.

"I'll text you!" Wanda said in response to you as you closed the door to the shop behind her. Only then did you notice that your open sign had been flipped to close.

You didn't remember doing that.

But it didn't matter. You found yourself smiling and laughing all day. Learning about a country you were going to search traditional dishes from.

You met Wanda.

Wanda Maximoff.

You blushed when she texted you about a half hour later, letting you know that she had made it home safe. Wanda then sent a picture of her with the red blanket wrapped around her body.

You and Wanda texted every single day before and after your first date. You made Sokovian meals for her and took her around the city to let her experience anything she wanted. You held her close and kissed her as the two of you found yourselves under the same red blanket. You told her you loved her two months after she introduced you to her co-workers/housemates.

And now, as you wait for Wanda to text you after her mission in Lagos, are you working on a flash tattoo sheet of a scarlet witch.

Your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff. Your Sokovian Flower.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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lov3m3darling · 1 year

Text

Apple of my Eye (Obsessed!Wally Darling x Short!Reader) Pt. 4

Another part! Idk how long this fic is gonna go on but I'm estimating maybe 10 parts? Not sure yet.

Anyway, on with the story!

!!!(TW: obsessive behaviors, jealousy, stalking, eye imagery)!!!

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

Wally went home that night absolutely dazed and dizzy with love. Home even had to shove his chair underneath him before he fell a couple of times from not looking where he was walking.

He took off his jacket and loosened his tie before laying across the chair and sighing happily. Home creaked questioningly.

"Of course I'm alright, Home. I'm amazing, even..."

Home didn't say anything else, but Wally sat up in the chair and continued anyway.

"They're gorgeous, for starters! And they make just the most wonderful food...and their smile! Oh Home, I could stare at it all day..."

Home let out a long creak, sounding almost like a sigh. They were happy for Wally but jeez! You were all he talked about anymore!

"And did you know they like (fav hobby)? Doesn't that sound like fun? I wonder if they would show me how sometime..."

Wally laid there and talked about you all night, even long after Home had gone to sleep. What time he wasn't doing that, he was staring at the pictures you'd taken.

Later on, when you had kissed him goodnight, you tucked a copy of each photo into his jacket pocket. They were already up on the wall, in frames he had made himself from popsicle sticks and glue, painted to be your favorite colors.

But...that wasn't enough. No, the wall should be full of you! A whole wall of your marvelous self! His biggest art project yet!

And so, because Wally did not require sleep anyway, he stayed up to paint you.

Meanwhile, you were looking at the pictures too. You planned to go pick up some frames tomorrow, but in the meantime, they sat on your kitchen table next to the vase of flowers he'd brought.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so important and loved. Wally looked at you like you were some kind of divine being. An angel, perhaps.

And in his eyes, you very much were.

Wally hadn't realized it before, but prior to you moving in, he had been...well, depressed. Every day was the same old routine. Sure, his friends helped, but ultimately he couldn't seem to get out of the rut he'd found himself in.

Oh, but with you...he felt alive. He could never get bored of you. Life was exciting again!

In all his pondering, he realized he had painted himself into the picture with you. You sat on his lap smiling, much how you did in the picnic pictures. His arms were around your waist, and your face was slightly red.

He grinned.

"They're so cute when they're flustered~" he chuckled, taking the canvas off the easel and immediately replacing it with a fresh one.

Needmorepictures

Yes...he would paint more...he had to...

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

In your own house, you could not sleep. You were still just about floating from the afterglow of the date, yes, but there was something else as well. You felt like you were being...watched.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel someone looking at you, and you'd just end up sitting up in a panic and turning on the light.

Eventually, you were more frustrated than scared, and threw back the covers with an irritated groan.

Bedroom door shut? Check.

Nothing under the bed? Check.

Nothing in the closet? Check.

Curtains closed? Check.

"Okay...let's try this again, I guess"

You got cozy again and managed to close your eyes for all of five seconds before they sprang open yet again. You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it before standing up and going to the window. The curtains were closed, but that was the only way anyone could be looking at you, so you had to check.

Out of your frustration and tiredness, you threw the curtains open, only to find Home staring directly at you from across the way. You jumped a little and opened the window cautiously.

"Home? Can you hear me over there?" you called as quietly as you could manage.

Home's shutters waved at you.

"Why on earth are you staring at my house? Is something wrong?"

Suddenly, Wally appeared in the window and you quickly ducked under yours. You weren't sure why you were scared of Wally seeing you, but you did as instincts told you and stayed hidden; listening.

"Hoooome~? Who are you talking to, hm~?"

Home didn't respond, and Wally peered outside to see your window open.

"Oh~? Sleeping with the window open~? I bet they look adorable~ Maybe I should sneak over and check in on them~"

You started to panic. Wally didn't sound like his usual chipper self...and he was planning to come watch you sleep?? Creepy...

...

Wait...

You managed to jump up and dive into bed just before Wally made it to your window, and pretended to be asleep.

Wally sighed, hearts in his eyes as he watched you.

"Absolutely stunning~" he whispered to himself.

You heard a soft thud as Wally climbed in and made his way over to your bed. Your heart was racing but you tried to just focus on keeping your eyes closed and your breathing even.

Suddenly, there was soft felt on your cheek.

He caressed your face gently as he admired your sleeping form, and for some reason, you were immediately calm.

"You're perfect, (y/n). I've made up my mind...I'm going to marry you. Then you can be around all the time! You can move in!"

Marriage? He wanted to get married right away?

You...you didn't want...

...to wait either! Married life with Wally sounded marvelous!

You began to blissfully daydream about it all, until he withdrew his hand and left, making his way back Home.

His...you were his...

...hang on...

...MARRIAGE?!

You sat straight up in bed, staring wide-eyed at the window he had left from. What just happened? You felt like you were in some lovey-dovey trance that disappeared as soon as he was far enough away.

Of course you didn't want to get married so soon! What were you thinking?!

You realized now why Home was looking at you. They were trying to warn you that something wasn't right with Wally. He wasn't acting like himself anymore and he was messing with your head to make you love him more and more.

But...the trance was oddly calming, wasn't it..?

Without it, alone in your bedroom, you felt...lonely.

Somehow, despite being slightly afraid of him now, you wanted Wally to come back...

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

SO.. that was kinda short and to be totally honest, it was not my best work. Not exactly my favorite chapter of this story tbh...

Also I'm sorry it took so long! I've been feeling kind of uninspired lately and I've also been pretty busy so I haven't had time to sit down and work on this. I may be a little slower from now on than I was when I first started but I do fully plan to keep writing this and probably other stuff too!

Aaaaanyway! Have a lovely day (or night...actually, it's night time here right now)

✨️☮️🔁⬆️✨️

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home fanfic #wally darling x reader #wally darling fanfic #obsessive wally darling #yandere wally darling #yandere welcome home

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ponie-cornious · 6 months

Text

[ OLD ART RE-POST - September 14, 2022 ] I know I come back here every 300 years or so, but here's to hoping one day I'll reach the present and I'll be able to post my recent art :"D ANYWAYS, this was made for my friend Espe Wespe (aka @umbreonix on here and AO3 <3), based on one of here amazing RadioHusk fics, Elephant in The Room (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38875335?view_adult=true#main), go check that out if you haven't already (which I highly doubt), is good <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #radiohusk #radiohusk fanart #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #husk #hazbin hotel husk

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crowleyholmes · 4 months

Note

hi there chris! since the new year is approaching rapidly, i wanted to ask my favorite creators (that includes you! i love your art!) how they look back on their 2023 tumblr year and which blogs made them happy to be here. i am very happy to follow you and hope you'll have a great 2024! 💘

Hiiii omg this is so sweet and means a lot to me, thank you! 🥺💕

I've been meaning to do a little end-of-the-year shoutout/love post for some of my favorite blogs, so I hope you don't mind if I use your ask as the perfect excuse!

I've had many fun years on tumblr, but this one has been extra special. Falling into the Good Omens fandom and meeting all of you amazing people has made this year so so SO much better than it otherwise would have been, so here are some special shoutouts (apologies, I'm sure this will get long, things like this tend to get away from me, so I'll put it under a read-more)

@majortomyourcurcuitsdead SASHA can you believe I was going to just send you an anon telling you that I think you're cool and leave it at that. Can you believe it. WELL thank Somebody you had your anon turned off and I had to expose myself in your dms because it feels like we just instantly connected about like 20 different things and haven't stopped talking since sskjdfhs anyway I'm so happy I met you you're so fun and so clever and so talented and so enthusiastic and I've only known you for like. What 2 months?? Ish? But I already love you so much <3

@lineffability !!! Line you are so *struggles to find words* you're just great is what you are okay. I feel like you are what happens when somebody takes a big cup and puts six shots of love, chaos, sunshine, talent, fun, and enthusiasm into it, generously sprinkles intelligence on top and gives it a good stir. I don't even remember how or when or why we started talking tbh? But your creativity is so inspiring, and some of my favorite tumblr-moments of this year have been 'yes-and'ing with you about one thing or another in a very >:3 manner hahah so! my point is! i love you lots <3

@dontbotheraziraphale Teeeedddd you're wonderful, I vented at you one time and then we talked for like 2 hours and at the end of that 1 conversation I already considered you a friend - and not just in that "tumblr mutuals who talk 1 time are my friends" kind of way but like. Genuinely. You're so kind and so fun and every time we talk it's such a good time ily a lot my bro my buddy my man <3

@crikey01 Tallulah HI I also completely forgot how we started talking but I remember connecting the dots that you were the one who painted those INSANE black and white and gold oil paintings and the way my jaw dropped like?? BRO you're so talented I admire you so much! And I love that we bonded over stopping each other from masochistically checking certain peoples' blogs... 😂 Anyway you're so sweet and fun and ily lots <3

---

The list could probably go on but you four are the people I've talked to most on here and you're the tumblr chat boxes I never close but always just minimize and y'all better see this as the ultimate internet declaration of affection that it Clearly is >:D 💕

---

And here are some more shout-outs because I just HAVE to.

Apologies, I know I've already tagged a bunch of you recently in a mutuals appreciation post but. This is my official thank-you-for-2023 post and I just have a lot of love for you all okay sorry feel free to ignore this <3

@rowan-ashtree (i'll text you back soon I promise I'm sorry I just haven't had the brain-space recently ssjkdfh) @crawley-fell (we've never talked but i love you from afar :')) @ineffabildaddy @llokilaufeyson @actual-changeling @saryasy @hyperfocusthusly @beccibarnes @rainbowcrowley @thesherrinfordfacility @goodoldfashionednightingale @wibbly-wobbly-blog @highlyillogicalandroid (i see your data obsession and i agree <3) @tortugay @foolishlovers @stargazing-crowley @gingiekittycat @weasleywrinkles @bildads-shoes @finleycannotdraw @bowtiepastabitch @heytherefluffy @samwwise @nocturnal-birb @athousandyearstime @angelsdiningattheritz @most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer @jedthesecretdreamer @wraithee @hydrangeadangea @southfarthing @frodo-baggins @mobius-m-mobius

#asks #2023 reflections #personal #friends and mutuals and others appreciation post <33

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winchester-reload · 10 months

Note

hello, friend

so I legit just made a tumblr account today because tbh I had no idea how the app worked and new things scare me, but we push through. anyway I was looking at destiel stuff (currently watching the show for the first time, am currently in season ten) and found your blog. your art is amazing!!!

I don’t have any irl friends who watch the show to geek out with so I was excited to share some songs that give me destiel vibes with someone who actually knows the ship.

my absolute favorite song that I associate with them is The Beach by The Neighbourhood (the vibes are immaculate imo) but I also really like Atlantis by Seafret.

!!!!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO TUMBLR AND THE FANDOM!

First watch, huh?

Oh, to be a baby Supernatural fan again *dreams* I think you'll like it here. I highly recommend checking out some of the amazing meta from the seasons by people like @mittensmorgul (and who else?? mittens, help me out here. I think I'm going senile in my old age), and there's a plethora of art (I've got a ton of it in my archive at this point (from lots of different past and current artists), but there's always more) and fanfic (check out @destielfanfic!) to be consumed.

I also love how closely associated Dean and Cas are to our favorite wholesome and heartbreaking songs. We just want everything for them, don't we? I'll have to check your suggestions out! Thanks for sharing them :)

And I'd love to geek out about the boys with you. I might be a bit slow to reply though lol

#how're you finding tumblr so far?#it's a whole biodome of its own but its a good place #mostly #asks #wonderful people #destiel #spn family #destiel fanfic #destiel art

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kining-the-evil · 5 months

Note

Stu or William Afton trying to be normal for Christmas, but they just can't help gloating about their wealth

Warnings: none really. A little suggestive at the end

An: I’m accepting Christmas Drabble requests for the next 4 hours

“Here you are beautiful.” Stu jumped over the couch, landing next to you with a small gift bag in his hands. You had snuck away from your family for a bit to spend time with Stu on Christmas Eve. You hated that he was alone, but your boyfriend had refused to come over to yours for Christmas. Stu claimed to enjoy the time alone and that Billy tended to show up at some point anyways.

“And for you.” You handed over the wrapped box you had for him while taking the bag. “In three?”

“One,” Stu started.

“Two,” you added.

“Three!” You both said at the same time before opening the gifts.

You pulled the paper out of the bag along with a thin box. You let out a small gasp as you opened the box, finding a necklace. It was an 8 pointed star that looked to be silver with a shining black diamond in the middle. You should be grateful for something like this, any girl would be ecstatic to receive something so nice, but your heart sank when you saw it.

You glanced up at Stu, seeing him staring at you. “What do you think?” He sounded excited, but you couldn’t match his energy.

“I… I thought we were sticking with $20.” Stu just waved that off.

“I knew you’d like it, I didn’t even look at the price.”

His words caused the pit in your stomach to feel heavier. And a glance to the side made a lump in your throat grow. You had bought Stu a Michael Myers art print, it wasn’t super expensive, but you had thought it was pretty and that Stu would like it. Instead, it was thrown to the side, half the wrapping paper still on it.

“Baby, are you okay?” Stu’s words made you realize how close you were to tears, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it in, letting out a small sob. “Hey….don't cry, baby,” Stu scooped you into his arms.

“You hate it!” You sobbed into his chest, fisting his shirt slightly.

“What are you talking about? I hate what, baby?”

“The- the gift I got you.” You sniffled as you started to calm down, not that the sadness was going away at all.

“I don’t hate it, what makes you think that?”

“You didn’t even open it all the way…” you whispered. Stu leaned forward slightly to grab the gift off of the coffee table.

“Baby, I love it. I just wanted to see you open your gift.” Stu tried to explain but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing compared to what you got me.”

“Baby, I don’t need some expensive gift. This shows that you know me, it’s something you knew I’d like.”

“But you always buy my expensive gifts for everything, and I… you deserve to get nice stuff too. I feel bad because I can’t afford anything like what you buy me.”

Stu listened to you talk, rubbing your back comfortingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I never think about the price tag, you know? I’m really just spending my parents money.”

You looked down at your hands slightly. You knew Stu was telling you the truth, you’d never seen him even check a price tag. When you went out he paid for everything, he’d buy lunch for your friend group, bought random shit he didn’t need, Stu never even thought about the price. But you didn’t have that luxury. Sure, you weren’t necessarily broke, but you had a budget. You had to work a part time job and your parents didn’t just buy you whatever.

Stu reached around you for the print, holding it for you to see. “I love it, and it’s going to go up in my room as soon as we’re done. I was more worried about you liking your necklace, which…” Stu set the picture down and reached for the necklace, taking it out of the box and clipping it around your neck. “Looks amazing on you.”

You blushed at his words, looking down at the necklace resting on your neck. “It is beautiful.”

“See! I knew you’d like it. I’ve always spoiled you, and I always will.”

“Maybe just…scale it down slightly every once in a while? I want to feel like I spoil you as much as you spoil me.” You explained, watching as Stu’s smile grew.

“You spoil me in the best ways.” Stu smirked suggestively, making you slap his shoulder.

“I’m trying to be serious!”

“Oh, I’m being very serious.” Stu promised as he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Now, why don’t I give you your second gift before you go home?”

“And what could that be?” You hummed as Stu’s hands moved up under your shirt.

“I think you know exactly what it is.”

#scream #scream 1996 #stu macher fic #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher drabble #scream x reader #scream drabble #christmas drabble

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signed-sapphire · 3 months

Text

The Fallen Star ✨

A Wish rewrite

(Scrapped) Act I - Prologue

We hear a woman’s voice reminiscent of the Golden Age of Disney, narrating events from a book:

Once upon a time, Stars roamed the earth. Magical beings from the sky that used their magic to help people, to assist them in fulfilling their dreams.

However, the Stars soon started to simply grant wishes, and people became lazy and dependent, demanding the stars make their wishes reality. The Stars became full of themselves and mad with power, almost destroying the kingdoms.

[Author’s Note: Take my messy sketches! Idk I’ll try to do little doodles per part IT WAS RUSHED OKAY]

One survivor, Magnus Arman, escaped his burning homeland. He saw the wreckage the Stars had caused, and vowed that he could never lose the people he loved to the Stars again.

On his journey, Magnus came across another wrecked kingdom. Another land the Stars had destroyed. Another land with no survivors… but one. Magnus heard a faint sob in the distance. Once he followed it, Magnus came across a child— Asha Arabella.

Magnus took Asha under his wing, and started working to stop the Stars. He studied their magic, bringing his young daughter with him on his adventures.

While he studied, he met a young woman named Amaya, who cared for Asha like her own. Soon enough, the two fell in love and wed.

[Amaya’s dress is a callback to the classic Golden Age princess wedding dresses]

But one day, more Stars fell from the heavens and attacked, wanting all the magic for themselves.

That day, Magnus almost lost his family.

So Magnus, determined to protect his family, used all his magical knowledge and became the Wishgranter, one who would decide what wishes were good and what could never be granted.

Note that the book doesn’t tell exactly how Magnus defeated the Stars… but anyways now he has a sick-ass white outfit like the one we see in the canon movie.

He defeated the evil Stars, and together, Magnus and Amaya founded the Kingdom of Rosas, a safe haven across off the Iberian Peninsula where people could give their wishes to Magnus and he would keep them safe from harm, from the greedy Stars. Magnus became known throughout the lands as Magnifico, the master of wishes.

And often, the wishes people gave Magnifico were good, and he granted them.

We see Magnifico granting a wish [I can’t find the picture but let’s say the dressmaker one we saw in the movie with a callback to Sleeping Beauty’s dress. And you know what, it’s blue.]

Little Asha was raised in the castle where she was doted on by her parents.

Teen Asha, just a bit younger than she is now, so around fourteen, and the page flips to Asha now, seventeen years old.

And this is where our story begins.

Next (coming soon)

So! Epilogue! I guess! Halfway done but I need to get it out bc I want to start random doodles and I need somewhat of a starting point!

Heavy heavy thanks to @annymation and their INCREDIBLE rewrite, go check it out, it’s amazing and wayyyy more of a tribute to the original Disney than mine will be. And @gracebethartacc/@gracebeth3604 (hey, I was the one who asked about whether your rewrite was written or thought dumps/ etc, but btw your rewrite IS well known, my roommate’s friends know of it and Anny’s) bc they have a popular rewrite with their amazing art doodles and thought dumps, so… I said fuck it and posted this.

I will update with more doodles! These are messy but I wanted to put SOME there… also! Check out @uva124 if you want to see some FANTASTIC wish art!

#writing by sapphire #the fallen star au #the fallen star #asha #disney wish #princess asha #asha x star #star x asha #saph doodles #human star #starsha #wish 2023 #lmao I don’t know what I’m doing #super short btw #tw: implied death #bc she can’t be a Disney Princess if one or both of her parents aren’t dead

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pitchouna · 7 days

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Meeting Goku x reader headcanons!!

(It's an AU where Chi-chi doesn't meet Goku because I love my girl and I simply hate angst.)

May be ooc since it's my first time writing </3 but overall it's just Fluff!!

Haven't checked for any spelling mistakes I'm too lazy.

Okay so I've recently became a Goku simp and Dragon Ball lover, and I've noticed there's little to no works about him. Which surprised me with how popular the DB series are. Anyways we'll talk about this another time let's begin!!

To Begin, you and Goku met during the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament where you both fought.

Even though you were beaten easily, Goku was amazed to find a strong woman for the first time. He immediately fell in love. (he's too dumb to figure it out and needed Krillin's help.)

Which lead him to ask to train and spar together when you'd both be free. So like everyday.

But of course it wasn't enough interaction for our lovely saiyan so Krillin's helped his best bud having dates ideas such as going to the beach together, going on restaurants (sadly you're the one paying

You two even nap together!!

As you guys may know, this man has got no experience about what personal space means.

So don't be surprised if you get trapped in a hug randomly if you guys nap together!!

No matter how far your beds are he'll randomly find a way to stick with you.

Of course there are some days where Goku may piss you off..

For exemple, when he asks too many dumb questions that your brain just want to disconnect.

Or when you simply don't want to train yet Goku doesn't understand why since training is literally all his life so he could be overwhelming without knowing it.

So you see theses excuses we use when we're too lazy to go out with friends? That was your first thought.

You'll sick to not train since it's the only way to escape training you found yet.

With how dumb he is, you could easily avoid the senzu beans solution.

Unless someone reminds him about it... ( Either it's Krillin, Yamcha etc... )

When learning who told him about it you'll always have a grudge against them.

You'll always be able to count on Bulma though!! Since she knows how men could be such a pain.

Y'all are besties forever and goes shopping at least once in the month (She's such a generous BFF she'll pay for everything)

You both always gossip.

However, Goku hates the days when you go hang out with Bulma.

He's just so bored.. Even if he can train, nap and eat as much as he'd like which is supposed to be his favourite hobbies it won't help..

He just has the need urge to see you!!

So sometimes, when he knows where you and Bulma hangs out, he'll randomly pop up out of nowhere with the Nimbus cloud.

Disappointed, Bulma still gets the message and sometimes will leave you two alone.

"Huh leaving already Bulma? You usually stay longer!" You exclaimed confused as why she was packing up so early.

"Sorry n/n! I just remembered I have a special meeting with some scientists!! Here's the money to pay for the addition. See ya!!" Bulma said in a rush as she left too much money on the table.

"Hold on Bulma you-" You were about to yell so she could take the money back before Goku interrupted you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"It's too late Y/n she's already gone now! Why don't you accept the money?" Goku said with his usual innocent which made you sigh in disbelief. Yet you didn't felt like scolding him right now you were too tired.

"I hope you don't want us to spar or train right now.. I'm too lazy." You mumbled with an irritated voice not wanting to deal with that right now.

"Heheee.. I just wanted to see you!!" Goku chuckled with his usual goofy smile that you started to like so much (But you didn't wanted to admit it yet...)

"You interrupted me and Bulma for that?.."

"But she has to go anyways!!"

"... Fair point."

Too lazy to argue further you just decided to let him win only this time. Since it was very late and you are the laziest person ever.

"Oh!" You heard Goku yell and wondered what that was about.

"Hm? What's up?" You asked him wanting to know what's on his mind.

"How about I take you on a ride home on the Nimbus? We'll get to watch the stars together!!" Goku said patting the Yellow cloud beside him.

"I guess I wouldn't mind..." You said as a small smile appears on your face.

Knowing that only pure-hearted people can go on it you decided to put a hand on the Nimbus and not to your surprise it went through it. Goku seemed very surprised though.

"How? You're one of the kindest person I know!!" Goku frowned wondering why that didn't work but you just chuckled at how innocent and cute dumb he was.

"That's not how it works Goku.."

"How does it works then?"

"I'll explain you another day. I'm too lazy right now... But what do we do now??

After your question, Goku put a hand on his chin thinking about a solution. He found it faster that what you were expecting.

" What about you get on my lap?" Goku said smilling innocently which made you blush.

"Why are you all red so suddenly Y/n??" You just brush it off not wanting to break his innocence of the poor guy.

"Just forget it alright? I'll go on your lap."

Goku chuckles in happiness hearing this. He wasted no time sitting on the Nimbus cloud and putting you on his lap.

He also took the opportunity to place his chin on your head. Which made you blush a little.

"Ready Y/n ?" Goku said Holding your waist. Too lazy as always you just nodded with a hum.

The Nimbus started to make it's way towards your home, as you took the opportunity to watch the beauty of the sky.

Goku smiled at your amazement, he found you so cute.

" Like what you're seeing Y/n?" Goku asked, his happiness obvious in his voice.

However, he heard nothing.

"Y/n ??" Goku asked looking at you just to find you asleep.

Oh well... He was already happy having you in his arms

He made a big detour to enjoy this moment even if you were sleeping.

Oh my god this took much longer than expected... The way I decided to randomly write headcanons out of nowhere instead of finishing my homeworks is wild. I hope y'all will like this!! If not I'll probably kms but it was very fun to write though!!

Will maybe do that another time if I don't forget this account 😭😭

Take care <33

#goku x reader #son goku #goku imagine #goku #dbz goku #dbz #dbs #dragon ball #kakarot #elysia

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karalija · 7 months

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Breathe Me - Clace— by Karalija

Once upon a time, I drew art of The Mortal Instruments series. Long before both the movie and the Shadowhunters show for sure. The first book had come out and my best friend told me “Omg you have to read this”. And I did. And it was amazing. I want to do a complete re-read from City of Bones at some point and I know it’ll feel like coming home.

This is a re-draw of a Jace and Clary picture I drew back in 2011 here: https://www.deviantart.com/kara-lija/art/Breathe-Me-197617426

I do so love how 12 years can give such a quantifiable difference in ability. I obviously changed a few things, but I tried to keep it overall similar. I will say drawing this in digital was a much more easier and gratifying experience than the original pen and ink with marker… For one thing there’s an undo button, lol.

Anyway please enjoy! And if you have time, go check out my deviantart: www.kara-lija.deviantart.com

#the mortal instruments #shadowhunters #clace #cassandra clare #tmi #clary fray #jace wayland #clary x jace #clary #jace #city of bones #books #fanart #its been 84 years #redraw #of my own stuff #just slap runes all over #karalija

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thenamesblurrito · 2 months

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I'M LATE BUT HERE'S SOME CON HAUL PHOTOS! i tagged everyone i could over on instagram, go check out what came from where 1-2) stuff from the alley and the dealer room! that Predaking has a 21" wingspan!!! snagged an intact Blurr, a?? moldy??? Megatron?? and an Elita 1 from DJW's personal collection 😭 and while i absolutely adore all the art i got i am still over the moon about a sketch of my OC Buzzard by @/jeetdoh, tysm <<333 3-5) did a little zine challenge @/sisi_north was running and drew some of the day's events with the characters my friends and i were cosplaying! the drive to InNOut in @knighttimeart's car, the tiktok @/lyndaxyart did, the beeping and the bad wifi in the room, passing out on the floor for the night. AND I GOT IT SIGNED BY BLURR'S VA!!!! 6-9) oh man i really cannot identify every single artist or creator of all of these stickers sdfjgjfds but this is my progress on the tf section of my sticker book! it's not just from TFCLA24 to be fair but i DID add like 2.5 pages worth to it! 10) just for funzies, my tf battle jacket :3 featuring my own pins and patches as well! gotta get more patches, i'm sad not many ppl seem to make those smh anyways it was such a cool con and i adored getting to be around such amazing people all celebrating something we love dearly <<33 i hope to see you all again and again in upcoming years

#tfcon #YOU WILL LOOK i hand painted and embroidered that jacket back. appreciate it #my plastic collection GROWS

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trashysimpaa · 7 months

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GUYSGUYSGUYSGUYS

just, remember many years ago when tfp got into Asia and that's how we got a hundred of artist to arrive here-? And that now these days most of them are..offline,rip,nolstalgia hits hard,you can only find their drawings in pinterest or something like that.

So yeah let's talk ab one that I REALLY LIKE,and just for the sake of them needed to be known more today

Tokiwaakebi or zakushin(I couldn't find translations for these names)

Really much an optiratch artist,I found them by wanting to find who did this one certain drawing here with the help of Google

and then I casually found them in a site copying tumblr called tumblex,and for what it looks like,it's a site that contains stuff from the past..maybe? Because I have tried searching on tumblr itself and their user dosen't exist.

Their content is so nice like literally, most of the artist that I found do alot of bl when it comes to manga,l say also nsfw content too but for me luckily they are not accessible!!

Please go check their art here on this site and tell me if you can find anything about them,I just god i really love tf Asian artist they are my inspiration

Just really, IGNORE THE ADS OKAY,IGNORE THE ADS ISTG-

Anyways go see their art,they are a optiratch and mecha liker artist but they also draw non-mecha art too! What saddens me the most ab the past on the internet is that you find amazing people and they just..poof out of existence on the web..you can only find some posts

________________

AN UPDATE!! SOMEONE FOUND THEIR ACCOUNT HERE! SO IT REALLY IS JUST A COPY OF TUMBLR AFTER ALL.

and they just poofed out of existence ON TUMBLR,they are currently online on Twitter so go to the link above to find their Twitter pls!!!

I will be reblogging one of their arts if you wanna follow them because I think..I THINK,you can't here because it's totally customized

Shout out to @darkchestoftales for helping me find them! So it is just a copy of tumblr lol-, they explained that maybe the URL for this user for some reason is HIDDEN,and that they have found tokiwaakebi from a friend's reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH, this is ridiculous, just why to this happen?this artist needs to be known! I thank you alot for darkchestoftales for messaging me,really,thanks alot,I hope people can reblog to know them

#transformers #transformers: prime #optimus prime #Ratchet #tfp ratchet #tfp optimus #tfp optimus prime #maccadam #optiratch #trash talk #Artist

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