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babeyun · 3 days

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falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.

✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort

✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader

✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!

friday, 9:23pm.

"late night?"

your voice has always been a comfort to him.

the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.

"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"

your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"

you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."

you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.

"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."

you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."

"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.

you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."

"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.

"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.

heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.

"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.

you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."

sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.

sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

that was six years ago.

you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.

heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.

he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...

...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.

the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @thenastone @marimariiiiiiii

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fanficsformyfaves · 3 days

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I Don’t Wanna Live Forever Pt.1

Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Prostitution, Mentions Of Abusive Pimp and Past Trauma, Confessions

PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

As we stumbled into her bedroom, our hands were all over each other, as our lips met in yet another heated exchange. I pull away briefly to get on my knees, when she stops me.

"Not tonight", she exhaled,

I pout playfully.

"You never let me go down on you"

"Cause that's my job"

My eyebrows furrow at the irony of that sentence.

Rhea had been my main client for the last year. She'd always pay the most, which got her the longest sessions, so I wasn't complaining...except for the fact that I was getting attached.

I couldn't deny it. From the first night we spent together, I knew she wasn't just a regular client. We'd just got done going at it for hours and just when I go to gather my clothes, she stops me.

"You don't have to leave yet", she breathes out,

Leaving me confused.

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, we could just lay here a while"

This was a first. As obvious as it sounded, I've gotten accustomed to being hastily shoed away right after my sessions, that I was genuinely caught off guard.

"Are you sure?"

"Why not? Do you have any other clients to attend to?"

"Not tonight", I answered,

Suddenly overcome with a new found shyness.

She offered a small smile, before taking me by the hand back to bed. The rest of the evening, I laid in her arms, as she slowly caressed the expanse of my back. We didn't talk or do much of anything past that, besides enjoy the gentle silence and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt like a person again.

Not just entertainment for someone's pleasure or something to be used. A person.

I know that might not make much sense, but when you've spent so long feeling like you've had to fight for your life everyday, the simple things remind you that it's worth living.

But that in and of itself was a double-edged sword. I couldn't get too used to the comforts I find, cause I knew it was only a matter of time before it gets taken away from me or I end up ruining a good thing for myself. I knew the pains of being used and left behind like trash on the road and I couldn't allow myself to go through that again.

When the morning came, we were still entangled in each other's limbs under the sheets and as much as I wish I could just stay in that moment for longer, I knew my boss would get pissed at me if I missed an appointment.

So with that, I carefully slipped out of her grasp and got dressed, before leaving.

It didn't take long before she booked me again for the following Saturday.

And the one after that and the one after that. With each passing meet, we slowly got to know each other past the physical things like her job, her interests, etc.

"Why'd you get into wrestling?" I asked,

As she lit my cigarette for me.

"Well, I had to do something with this strength...besides carrying pretty girls like you into my room", she teased,

Bringing a blush to my face.

"You say that to all your girls", I challenged,

"No...just my favorite"

Her thumb gently tracing back and forth on my thigh.

Yes, the actual sex was good, but nothing beats what happens afterwards. The talks, the cuddling, the smoking on her balcony. It was all I could want and more.

Which only made it all the more harder to swallow the feelings that were desperately trying to claw their way out of me. I even asked my boss if he could start booking me with other people instead for the sake of not jeopardizing anything, but of course, that wasn't how things worked.

"You're making demands now? You think you're someone special?"

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"You want this job?"

"Yes, but-"

"Tough shit, then. You take what I give you or you walk. You need me more than I need you. I don't care how pretty that face is. You ain't getting special treatment", he said,

Slamming the door in my face.

I was just gonna have to figure it out on my own, whilst pretending like everything was fine, which brings us back to where we were now.

"Plus, you'll ruin the surprise"

She slips my top off over my head, before helping me out my skirt.

"Look at you", she whispered,

Pulling me in by hips, before kissing me once more.

She eventually backed me up against the bed, whilst I unbuttoned her blouse. My eyes wander up and down her inked skin, as my tongue swiped over my top lip in anticipation. I licked a stripe all the way up her abdomen, before eventually meeting her mouth with mine. Her fingers get a grip on my roots, gently pulling my head back to leave wet kisses against my neck.

One thing about Rhea is that she's passionate in the way she touches. She wants me melting before she even truly got started.

She reaches behind me, undoing my bra, as I worked to get my underwear down. I then tug at her sports bra, signaling that I wanted it gone, to which she tugs it off and drops it at our feet. My mouth immediately wraps around one of her stiff buds, causing quiet groans to escape her smeared lips.

"That's it", she praised,

Cradling my head and gently sitting me down. I undo her jeans and pull them down, revealing the surprise in question.

"When did you get this?"

"Came in this morning", she said answered,

Brushing a strand behind my ear.

It was a good length and the thickness was sure to leave me feeling this night well into tomorrow. She's used toys on me before, but nothing quite like this.

"Mind getting it ready for me, darling?"

I chew at my bottom lip, looking up at her with a mischievous grin, before taking the strap into my hand and running my tongue over the tip.

Her eyes stared daggers into my bare skin, taking in every second of the little show I was putting on. Eventually, she pulls away and gets me on my hands and knees. I hear shuffling and just as I go to turn to see what she was doing, I feel her tongue press against my soaked heat. I let out a gasp, feeling the cold metal of her piercing rub against my clit.

Her fingers began rubbing up and down my entrance and with no resistance left in the way, she pushes two digits into me, pressing directly against my sweet spot.

"Oh, God!", I cried,

"He can't hear you", she smiled against me,

Sending chills up my spine.

She spends a good few minutes between my legs bringing me closer and closer to edge and at the very last second, she pulls away with a huff. I whine at the loss of her touch, but she was quick to soothe me.

"Patience, love", she exhales,

Wiping her mouth of my taste and reaching over to shove them in my mouth. I couldn't have accepted faster.

"So good", she says,

Pressing kiss after kiss against my shoulders and back, whilst lining up the toy with my slit. She thrusted into me in one swift motion, shamelessly ripping a scream of her name out of me.

It wasn't long till her momentum picked up and she was repeatedly hitting the spot I needed most. The tight grip she had on my hips would surely leave marks, but did I care? No. I was so engulfed in the pleasure, that all possible consequences ceased to exist.

She then reaches under me and began toying with my already-sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Rhea!", I cried out,

Grabbing behind for one of her hands.

I was at the brink of coming fully undone and it didn't help that her pace only grew more relentless with each pound.

"I'm here, darling", she groaned.

Unbeknownst to me, her own core was rubbing against the harness, meaning she was also chasing a high of her own.

"God, the things you do to me", she praised,

Biting down on my skin, which added even more fuel to the fire that was consuming me whole. The knot in the pit of my stomach was on the verge of snapping apart and I knew she could tell I was close.

"Do it. Fuck, cum!", she moaned,

And with that, I was hurled over the edge along side with her. She kept going, allowing me to ride the orgasm to its last legs, before we both fell against the sheets.

I desperately tried to catch any breath my lungs would allow, as she did the same, holding me in her arms. It took a few moments, but eventually, my vision found its way back to me, despite still seeing stars from how intense it all was.

After allowing me to fully calm, she gently pulls out, making me whine at the sore emptiness.

She soothed my aches with a few quiet hushes, whilst turning me to hold my frame in her arms.

"You did so well", she reassured,

Kissing me softly.

The remainder of the night we had left was spent with her just holding me.

Something about tonight felt different. She was more quiet compared to how she usually was.

"Something on your mind?", I asked,

Looking up into her eyes.

"Nothing. Just you"

There goes my heart again, drumming against the walls of my chest.

"Could I ask you something?"

I nodded against her bicep, not tearing my eyes away from hers.

"Do you ever wish it could just be this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just...you and me?"

My heart went from beating at the speed of light to a sudden pause.

"Rhea"

I sit up, pulling the comforter to cover myself.

"I've just been thinking about it", she continued,

"I like you, (Y/N). It's all I've been able to think about"

"You don't mean that"

"I do", she takes my hand into hers,

"That isn't how this works", I sighed.

I could tell she could sense the reluctancy and indecision in my voice.

"We'll never know if we don't try", she argued,

And at this point, I could feel myself holding back tears threatening to spill.

"You pay for my time and I service you. That's it"

She turns away and that's when I knew it was over. I managed to destroy what could be my last shot at something worth living for.

"I'm sorry", I said,

Stepping out of bed.

Not wanting wallow in the mess I made any longer, I simply just got dressed and left without another word. As painful as it was to go for the very last time, I knew it was for the better.

Or so I thought.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett

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lahulotteshitpost · 1 day

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***Sorry this started out as a rant***

The idea that you only reciprocate someone's love if you can be open about your feelings or date them is honestly insulting.

I find it especially mature from the Doctor to admit she can't date Yaz, knowing it will break her heart.

In LOTSD, you can clearly see the pain on their faces (both of them), but it's the kindest thing the Doctor could have done. Their relationship would have been unhealthy. We know this because we've seen the Doctor losing herself and being a terrible friend to Yaz.

And the Doctor knows that, she knows her mental state won't allow her to actually be in a relationship. She knows the relationship would be toxic, she knows she's been a terrible friend, she even admitted it in Flux but admitting it didn't fix her.

I've lived longer, seen more, loved more, and lost more.

- It Takes You Away

Yaz, I'm sorry. I didn't let you in to what I was doing... what I was looking for. I shouldn't have shut you out.

- The Vanquishers

But the point is, if it was going to be anyone, it'd be you. But I can't. Because at some point time always runs out.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

Not because I don't want to, because I might. But if I do fix myself to somebody I know, sooner or later, it'll hurt.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

The Doctor is very clear:

- she's not been a good friend,

- she loves Yaz,

- she wishes she could date her.

Being in love, even when it's reciprocal, doesn't always end in a relationship. Sometimes, even "trying" is impossible.

They can't be together, because the Doctor can't bring herself to do that. She's been desperately trying to avoid feelings and attachments since she fell into that Sheffield train. Of course, it doesn't work, and of course it's not a healthy coping mechanism, but this is something people go through.

Yaz understands. And I will argue that Yaz got to confess her love to the Doctor in LOTSD, they both expressed their feelings indirectly.

My nani says, courage is knowing something will hurt and doing it anyway. Mind you, she also said it's the definition of stupidity.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

This is Yaz telling the Doctor "I love you, I wish you could get over your fears, but I understand.

(And there is a lot to say about consent, as, clearly, understanding despite the pain is also the healthier reaction. You cannot force someone into a relationship, Yaz has often been mistreated by the Doctor but in this very moment, she is not a victim.)

There's a reason why she adds that bit about "stupidity" and it's not just to make the Doctor laugh.

Their romance is a slow burn with no happy ending. It's incredibly bittersweet, but it's also very real.

Mentally ill people who avoid relationships are often ashamed of it, we don't openly talk about it because it's definitely not "normal". You can be traumatised, depressed, anxious, but you're still in a happy romantic and sexual relationship, obviously.

Except when you can't.

I started shipping Thasmin during Series 12, initially believing it to be unrequited. I never expected it to be more than subtext, in a way it subverted a lot of my expectations.

I'm no different from most shippers, I was hoping for a kiss (every Doctor had one!) although I expected it to be disappointingly non romantic (à la Nine/Rose).

A kiss, the ultimate romantic trope!

Doctor Who didn't give me what I was hoping for.

It gave me something that I desperately needed.

Home.

Representation.

When you are one of those fucked up queer people, afraid of people knowing deep down you can't date, avoiding feelings and relationships because this is how your traumas shaped you, do you really get to see yourself?

Thasmin isn't every queer person, it isn't even every sapphic you will ever meet, but no story is. And their queerness isn't the cause of their doomed love, which I find extremely respectful and far from usual tropes.

I can see myself in them, at different stages of my life. I know some aro/ace spec people see their relationship as very queerplatonic and also felt represented.

Maybe you don't, and that's fine. You don't have to see yourself in them, you don't have to like this story.

Just understand other queer people will.

#Thasmin #doctor who #yaz #thirteen #the Doctor #yasmin khan #yaz khan #thirteenth doctor #queer #jodie Whittaker #mandip gill #romance #aroace #sapphic #lgbtq #queerplatonic

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tizeline · 12 hours

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May I ask, what is Leo and Draxum's relationship like? Is it good? Neutral? Or bad?

Uhhhhh well it's not exactly perfect, but I would say it leans more towards good, Draxum and Leo do both genuinely care for each other. I know that in the most recent comics their relationship appears a bit... strained to say the least. Because it is. BUT you should know that this is the most strained their relationsip has ever been up to this point. The reason for that is that this is the first time Leo has really openly and completely gone against Draxum's orders, Leo has never been as much of a rule-follower as Raph or as dedicated to the cause as Mikey, but he generally tends to go along with whatever his father wants. So Leo actively working against his family is new territory for all of them, that paired with Draxum's stubborness and self-rightousness (which makes him quite bad at being diplomatic in this situation) just causes even more cracks in their relationship.

That being said, things weren't all sunshine and rainbows before this, there has been an underlying tension building between the two of them for years which also acts as fuel to the fire in their most recent disagreement. I've brought it up before (and I'm gonna keep bringing it up whenever it's relevant) but one of the biggest dilemmas Draxum is dealing with is his duties as a father clashing with his duties as the warrior alchemist who has tasked himself with saving all of yōkai-kind. He created the turtles to aid him in that task, because of that he puts a lot of time and effort into finding their unique strengths, their "use" for a lack of a better term, to focus on improving and perfecting. It's similar to in canon, Leo feels insecure about role on the team because he doesn't feel like he has a Specific Thing™ like his brothers do. Only this time, it's kinda reinforced by the way Draxum acts.

And listen, Draxum doesn't actually love any of his sons more or less based on their "use" to the team, he views them as his children first and his soldiers second. But regardless of whatever his internal feelings are, because he's so dedicated to the plan he ends up spending more time with helping Mikey and Raph perfect their specific skillsets while Leo has a tendency to get a little overlooked. So from Leo's point of view, he's convinced he's the least favorite child! Oopsie! So again, like in canon, he acts like a show-off in an effort to get attention and praise, which a lot of the time just ends up backfiring on him cuz it makes him appear impulsive and immature.

This is something that starts off as a relatively small problem that just keeps getting more and more serious the longer it goes unadressed. By the time of season 1 Leo has more or less accidentally cemented himself as the "class-clown" of the family, so when he tries to argue about Draxum's plan neither his dad or his brothers really take him seriously. It's just Leo being Leo again, no biggie, he'll get proven wrong like he always does and they can all have a laugh about it later! But verbally disagreeing with Draxum is one thing, the fact that Leo actually goes and takes direct action against his family in such an extreme way is completely new, and it definitely throws them off. So Leo's hurt that his family refuses to listen to him and his family is hurt because they feel like Leo betrayed them.

So overall... yeah things are pretty dire in the entire Draxum family right now, especially between Leo and Draxum. They ARE gonna reconcile though! Leo's insecure role in the family has been a problem that's been going ignored for years now and the situation boiling over is gonna force everyone to actually adress it. It'll take some time, but Leo and Draxum are gonna talk things out, despite everything they do love each other, they both want to get along, they just need time to figure out how to actually accomplish that lol.

#i've talked about this subject before but i might as well answer it again #it actually helps me get a better understanding of my own au to but my thoughts into words #so i like answering asks such as these just because of that honestly #Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au

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lilacxquartz · 11 hours

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under the bed, where midnight slept

oc male!demon x human female!reader

plot: haunted by a strange presence every night before you go to sleep, you decide to get to the bottom of it.

w.c: 2.4k

tags/themes: one shot, oc, maybe light yandere, kissing mentioned, incubus, demons, reader insert, first person pov, light horror, unrequited feelings

side notes: developed a incubus demon oc a couple of days ago :) his name is midnight & i’m basically gonna try writing for him on and off to flesh out his character (but i can’t draw more of him just yet due to the arm situation).

***

I always went to sleep alone.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—that’s what I wanted to believe. I lived by myself, after all, so it would have been silly to assume otherwise.

Yet, every single night, I felt it. A presence that lurked within the shadows, watching my every move.

At first, I chalked it up to simple exhaustion, convinced that my job was finally getting to me in the worst possible way. I worked long and heavy hours throughout the week, sometimes even during weekends. My unfortunate reality meant that I was often very tired, leading me to usually be on the brink of dozing off by the end of my shift.

But then my mind began to wander, especially as the recurring experiences became more and more commonplace. My secondary suspicion was that I must have been dreaming or I must have been hallucinating, however, why were the happenings then so linear? I had been under stress before and I have had many nightmares in my life—yet those always manifested in a chaotic manner instead.

And that’s exactly what started to bother me, because dreams, while recurring, couldn’t have been so perfectly refined.

It was always the same experience, in fact.

I would lie down in bed and just as I was on the verge of sleep, I’d hear it—a whisper of some sort, faint and scratchy, like an out of tune radio. Then the floorboards would softly creak and I would feel the second thing; the unmistakable presence of something, maybe even someone else entering my personal space.

For just a split second, right at the cusp of entering the unconscious world; I would feel a strange warmth fill out my otherwise vacant hand. Something unseen that would latch onto my palm, weaving what felt like fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

Yet if I awoke during the night for whatever reason at all, it would immediately vanish from my grasp.

I even checked under the bed with a flashlight once, never finding a single shred of evidence.

And in the mornings, the presence wasn’t felt at all.

Although sometimes, a trace of it did remain; a hint of something that was left behind. It was during the nights when I would get up to drink some water from the kitchen or to go use the bathroom, that I didn’t feel entirely alone. It was an unsettling feeling but it was there—lurking in my peripheral vision, just barely staying hidden.

It was the presence of something uninvited.

Whenever I’d flick the lights on however, there would be absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of evidence remained. Lost overnight, like a distant dream.

It would either happen just as I was about to fall asleep or not at all.

Despite this, it never truly felt like it was a problem.

For one, it wasn’t as if it was actually disrupting my sleep. In fact, I would always wake up feeling well rested with each fresh day no matter how overworked I would be. Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there must have been more to all of this. Something that lurked in the back of my mind that refused to let it go as an unsolved mystery.

It made sense given my stubborn personality, I supposed. I knew that there had to be a reason for it all, no matter how insane it all seemed.

So when my unrelenting curiosity finally caved in, I could no longer ignore the unanswered question, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I finally found an answer.

Whether it was all in my head or not—I had the right to know.

So, on one particular night, I chose to catch whatever it actually was that lurked away in the shadows. My plan was simple enough; choosing to fool it into showing itself by pretending to sleep. I slipped two wireless earbuds into my ears, tuning them into a podcast to hold my attention before laying off to my side, just like usual.

To ensure that I would actually stay awake however, I would on occasion stretch out my legs or clench my fists to ward off any hints of exhaustion along with deep, slowly measured breaths that casted the illusion of feigned slumber.

I continued with that sort of ritual in mind, just barely hanging onto my remaining consciousness, just about to fall asleep from what I believed to be a failed effort, but that’s also right about when I finally heard it; a subtle creaking, perfectly timed with each drawn out breath to mask its approach.

A shiver of unease crept into my body as I felt a lurking presence loom behind me, confirming to every sense I had that I was no longer alone.

In an attempt of bravery, I continued to feign sleep for as long as I possibly could, staying tucked away into my assigned position, having my hand right where it always was, hoping to successfully delude whatever it was waiting for me that I was actually on the verge of dreaming.

However, the moment that something slipped into my waiting hand, my composure began to crumble away. It was definitely a hand that I felt. I could feel it with every fibre of my being, in fact; so warm and soft, yet with an unsettling firmness, like marbled flesh. It clasped my palm tightly, interlocking its digits between my fingers in what felt like a suffocating grip.

My breath then caught in the back of my throat as the momentum faltered despite my efforts to keep my act running as smooth as possible. Towards the surface of my back, I felt something dangerous settle right behind me. Raw skin, hot against my own, pressed up right against my exposed flesh. A wave of panic coursed through my body, anchoring in the pit of my stomach as I then soon felt something attempt to embrace me.

I gasped in retaliation, unintentionally giving away that I was in fact awake.

Without even waiting for its reaction, my body involuntarily tensed, prompting for it to withdraw slightly and with a surge of adrenaline, I then tore away from the unknown presence—lurching to the other side of the bed and pressing my back right up against the wall.

I knew for a fact that it disliked bright lights, so my next course of action was to seize the opportunity of the moonlight that shone right outside to reveal its identity to me instead. With a swift pinch, I flung the blinds open, bathing my bedroom in a cold glow that revealed a monstrous figure to me, basking it in the soft blue light.

At first when I saw it, I didn’t really have a reaction.

I was left feeling stunned… speechless, even.

It was so beyond anything I could comprehend from this world, that I was left rendered unable to form a single coherent thought.

I mean, who could do anything different in my shoes?

Just over the bed sat a kneeling figure; its form shrouded entirely in wisping shadows—its body flickering like black fire with tendrils of darkness whipping from its void-like core. The creature’s eyes glowed a pale grey with lacking pupils, yet I knew that its gaze was pointed right at me.

My eyes continued to widen as I studied it—a rushed slurry of internal scolding flooding my mind, telling me off for daring to be so curious.

Back then, I didn’t know what to expect.

But it certainly wasn’t a monster.

Still, in spite of my fear, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to learn more about the entity I shared a living space with.

With trembling courage and an insecure tone, I managed to utter, “What… are you?”

The creature’s initial reaction in response to me was to remain stationary, as if showing hesitation within its otherwise threatening demeanour. It then tilted its head to the side, emitting a low static-like hum that only continued to feed further into my unease.

Finally, however, it spoke.

“Don’t be afraid,” were its first words ever to me; it had a deep and almost melodic voice, almost human-like but tainted with something deceptive below the surface. I felt like a deluded sailor talking to a siren lost at sea, yet I was right at home.

I choked back any possible response I had brewing in the back of my mind though, paralysed by my own panic that locked my words somewhere far away. My heart thundered deep within my chest, drowning out all remaining rational thought and sent waves of fear coursing through my entire body.

I was trapped.

A tense moment passed us both by as nothing was said for a while, but then it started to back away from the bed and slowly arose to reveal its true height. Its features became clearer in the moonlight, revealing protruding horns from its head with long wavy locks of black hair.

I gulped hard as I watched it straighten its back and tower over me, its height just barely contained by the confines of my own bedroom—its horns almost scraping against the ceiling. I could just hardly, if at all, comprehend just how tall this creature truly was.

“I only wish to comfort you,” it insisted, taking a calculated step back. Whether it was to lull me into a false sense of security or not, I couldn’t be too certain and despite its words, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending dread of it being an actual monster, at least at first.

Such a bizarre and surreal display left me wondering if I was in fact dreaming; my mind desperately grasping at anything that could have explained the impossible sight before me, but upon pinching my own skin, only the sharp sting of reality remained.

“Y-you’re real?” I could only ask, a hint of dismay colouring my voice.

“Yes,” it nodded, confirming my fears.

Another strained silence brewed between us for another minute. I stared at the monster and it looked directly back at me. I did my best in the meantime to express my visual discomfort, hoping that it would continue to leave me alone, however, it instead misinterpreted my stunned silence as an invitation to move forward and close the distance between us.

As it leaned in, I pressed myself harder against the wall in a last attempt to convey my reluctance, hoping—praying, that it would take it as a hint to finally back off, but it persisted, ignoring my silent protest and leaving me frozen from fear instead.

With continued building terror, I watched as the creature reached out, extending its hand towards me with what appeared to be sharp fingernails—brushing against my face before cupping my cheeks. I felt its fingers curl around the base of my skull, pulling me closer than what I was comfortable with, daring to press its face against my own, planting a kiss upon my lips.

I shuddered in relief as it slowly withdrew, leaving me once again separated away from it by a short distance. I still couldn’t make out a single feature on its form despite such closeness and yet the memory of its lips on mine lingered with the taste of its ashen breath.

I couldn’t help but feel violated after, yet some familiarity brewed, prompting a disturbing revelation to consider; has this thing done something similar to me before—perhaps when I was fast asleep?

My mind stirred at the thought either way, leaving behind a chill of unrelenting unease that rolled down my spine.

The monster continued to back away until it stood a comfortable distance away from me, leaving me feeling somehow confused. It was a strange situation no matter how I looked at it; it didn’t seem to want to harm nor consume me, rather only offering its touch and comfort.

It was almost as if it sought companionship from me instead.

I watched warily as it drifted just a little closer once more, as if struggling with its own inability to stay away.

“Please,” it pleaded, its tone bordering on desperate, “I only wish for you to sleep well.”

Perhaps it was the lingering aftermath of the kiss that was clouding my judgement, or maybe it was the lack of sleep after a long day, but something within me urged for me to finally surrender to its will, to let my guard down at long last.

Even if it didn’t feel like it was my own decision, at the time.

Swayed by a force unseen, relaxing my senses like some type of sedative.

So against my better judgement, I reluctantly gave in with a reassuring nod, allowing for it to move closer again all the while I did the same.

It wasn’t that I was suddenly unafraid of the monster that was on my bed, rather that I wanted for the peaceful nights to continue.

They were all I had left going for me in this otherwise unforgiving world, my only remaining comfort at the end of a long day.

I proceeded to lay back down on the bed, turning my body off to the side as usual, feeling its presence press against me once more. Its form seemed to envelop me; the shadows that spilled from its core encasing me in a suffocating shroud that pulled me into the darkness along with it. I felt as my own body gradually stiffened, slowly losing the ability to move a single inch at all, yet oddly enough, I didn’t feel a single hint of dread at all anymore.

All I felt was its comfort and warmth instead.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I finally surrendered to my own exhaustion, feeling them weld shut.

I then felt as the monster tightened its grip around me, pulling me even deeper into its personal space. Its breath felt fiery against my flesh as it dug its face into the crook of my neck, displaying an almost protective and maybe even wanting embrace.

As I drifted off into sleep and as its hold continued to tighten, it whispered something into my ear just as I was about to truly go under.

With a body that could have been sculpted from fire alone, its words felt somehow chilling and devoid of any remaining warmth. Its voice was no longer laced with a friendly tone, instead spiked with something much more sinister in its place.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And in that moment, everything changed.

My life was never the same again.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 22 hours

Text

For A While...

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader -> You were first introduced to Spencer through Emily, however, six years later, it seems some things are beginning to change.

Disclaimer: 16+ CM level violence. Descriptions of torture, death and stalking. This is part two. Part one can be accessed here. Fluff towards the end. Pining. Angst (kinda). Not proof read.

Five Months Later…

The last five months had been like agony for Spencer.

He’s spent the last five months trying his best to figure out his feelings for you until one morning he walked into work, determined to look less like a complete confused mess as he had done for the last several days.

His tie was still a little crooked, but his hair was neater than when he’d rolled out of bed, and his shirt wasn’t creased. And with a coffee in his hand, he was waking up a little faster than usual. Except, just as he stepped through the doors, he saw you by your desk.

No-one was in the office yet. You’d been removing your scarf and coat, laying them on the back of your chair when he spotted you and the voice in his head said…

I love you.

He’d shocked himself.

Of course, he had already known his feelings ran deep for you. But it was the first time the actual words had been spoken out loud, or in the very least, to himself.

And it had been agony ever since.

He was pretty sure he managed to hide it, though he doubted that the team didn’t at least have their suspicions. If Emily had figured it out with only a couple of days, the team had seen them both for months.

However, Spencer was certain of one thing.

He had it under control.

Like he had told Emily, he didn’t want to lose you. And if that meant forever being your friend, living with a cage around his heart when he was with you that felt as if it was crushing his soul, he could happily live with that.

Until, one day, Spencer wondered why he’d built the cage in the first place. Because as much as he was aware of the dangers both of your jobs posed, he never thought he could lose you because of that.

The team had been flown to Oregon for a case. Four women had been killed in the town, all with a similar look, background and lifestyle. And the further you were looking into the case, it didn’t just seem to be in Oregon. The bodies trailed over the years across the country, and from what you could figure, the first had been in Virginia.

However, the longer you all worked on the case, the more the nagging feeling in your gut grew. Something felt too familiar about the case.

“We have to be missing something. We already know this guy stalks his victims, right. He knows what they do for work, he makes sure he knows what they’re doing at all times. He prays for the right moment when they're alone or they’re away from their general routine.”

“If it was a bigger pattern you could say he’s picking them at random.”

“But I don’t think he is. I mean, look at how each of the victims are described.”

They were described as smart, happy, hard working. If they ever stepped out of their routine, it was because they had to. The first victim drove a little out of town because her usual restaurant she ordered from was shut. The second because she needed cabinet hinges. The third because she needed to stop for gas but there was a diversion on the road, sending her to another.

The rest of the team continued talking but when Spencer looked over to you, you seemed…off.

“Hey, I’m gonna go and get some coffee. You guys want some?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“Thanks.”

Spencer knew that look on your face a little too well. You needed space. Why, he didn’t know. But he also knew it was better not to follow you.

Except, he couldn’t help but wish he could turn back the clock and do exactly that.

An hour later, you still hadn’t returned.

After twenty five minutes, they figured maybe there was a long cue. After thirty five, they figured maybe they had been changing the coffee filter just as you got there.

When you didn’t pick up your phone after an hour…they got worried.

So, sending Derek and Spencer to the coffee shop to try and find you, Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Blake stayed behind in case it was just that they were changing the filter and there was a long cue and your phone had died.

Except, when Spencer and Derek returned half an hour later having searched up and down the block, in every cafe, coffee shop, convenience store and gas station, they all knew something was wrong.

“She’s not any of them. The cashier said she hadn’t even come in today.”

“That’s not good.”

From the screen, Garcia popped up.

“Guys, I’m getting a live feed. You’re gonna want to see this, though…I don’t know if you’ll want to.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

Garcia said nothing, but her face said it all. With a couple of clicks, the feed was up on the full screen and everyone in the police department was watching it.

“How long have you had this Garcia?”

“The alert came in only a few moments before I called you, but according to the chat room, it’s been prepared for a couple of hours, but went live about forty minutes ago. I think you should also know, I was invited to this.”

“Invited?” JJ asked.

“Believe me, I’ve had every corner that I know of, being monitored. But apparently this is a new one.”

Everyone looked a little closer to the screen, and eventually it got a little brighter. Most likely from a light on the further wall.

And everyone’s hearts sank.

It was you.

You had a gash on your head, most likely where the unsub had hit you across the head. From the look on your face as you move your body ever so slightly, it wasn’t the only place on you that was wounded.

The camera angles kept changing, offering a different view of the room, though there wasn’t much to see other than you, beaten and bloodied, zip tied and chained to a bolted down chair.

Then someone came into shot.

The unsub.

He approached you slowly, bringing with him a damp cloth, gently pressing it to your head.

“It’s okay. Take it easy.”

You forced your eyes open, but when you were met with the reality of who it was, your face turned into shock, fear, disgust and anger.

You jerked back, unable to move any further than you had tried before.

“Get the hell off me.”

“It’s okay, don’t be like that.”

The unsub spoke softly to you.

“Get away from me. Get off me.”

“You don’t have to be like this.”

Then you spotted the camera.

“You’re filming this?”

“I thought your friends might like to see it. See how safe you are.”

“Safe?!” both yourself and Spencer asked.

“Garcia, can you get a clear shot of the unsub?”

“No, sir. He hasn’t looked at the camera fully.”

“Then look into Y/l/n’s past. She knows him. Or, he knows her. Maybe they’ve crossed paths somewhere before.”

“Already on it, Sir.”

It would take a little longer for the team to realise your relationship to the unsub. And your connection to the victims.

“I told you you’re safe with me, you don’t have to worry any more.”

“You kidnap me and tell me not to worry?!”

“I can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Why take her though? Why follow her? It’s too risky.”

“Maybe it’s his endgame.” Spencer said out loud, the cogs turning over and over in his head. Then he moved towards the evidence board, rearranging things around where he’d written your name in a bubble.

He needed to keep moving, proving to himself he was alive. Or else he might break more than he ever had.

“How would you describe her?”

“Smart.” JJ began, following what Spencer was getting at.

“Hard working.”

“A stickler for routine. She’s fixed. Doesn’t often change what she likes.”

More comparisons came out and Spencer had proven his point.

“I’m wondering if he was her first victim. Or if she was his catalyst.”

Everyone turned back to the screen when they heard a loud strike.

“It WAS me!”

It took you a moment before you rolled your head back up and looked from the camera to him.

“It never was you, that was the whole point.”

“Only because you couldn’t see what I could offer you.” He pulled a chair harshly in front of you and sat down. The camera still had a clear shot of your face, but just the back of his head.

“I saw you, a few years ago. Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“That-that-that guy! The one you think you wanted! The one you thought could offer you everything!”

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

“Don’t lie to me.”

Another strike across the face. Then he grabbed you.

“I saw how you looked at him. Like he was the whole world. Your whole world.”

“When even was-”

“Six years ago. I was coming out of a bar. Couple of buddies wanted me to go with them but I knew I had to find you. And I was stupid enough to think you’d be waiting for me. Instead, I found you with him. Standing outside your apartment. I didn’t wait around for the kiss.”

His name slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, you remember him? You remember him? You remember him…”

Of course you remember him. How could you not? You worked with him every single day.

The unsub was growing more emotional. From accusatory to confusion to a sadness of acceptance.

Then anger.

“You remember him!? And all he had to do was walk you home?!” The unsub laughed before pausing and kicking the chair over, sending it flying into a wall.

You jumped at his quickness and the loudness of the noises.

“Do you know how long I have been trying to get your attention?! How long I have spent trying to show you that you have feelings for me? You might deny it, but we both know it’s true. It has been since we first met. I know you didn’t know, but I saw it in your eyes, in that kindness you showed me when no one else did. You volunteered to be my partner, remember?”

“For the…the forest run?”

“You do remember.”

The unsub got down on his knees in front of you, clutching at your jacket.

“See, this just proves-”

“I volunteered because Sophia didn’t want to be left alone with you.”

“What?”

“I opted to take her place to make her feel safe.”

As you continued to explain, Hotch and Garcia tracked your phone numbers and social media posts until she found Sophia.

“So you don’t feel safe with me, but you’ll feel safe with Spencer?”

“Please, don’t bring him into this.”

“Why not?”

The unsub sat back. “Why not? Go ahead, tell me. This wouldn’t happen to be the same Doctor Spencer Reid, would it?”

You tried to deny it, but no words came from your mouth.

The unsub became deflated.

“And let me guess, you have feelings for him…you…you even…love him. Why do I not measure up? Because I don’t work for the FBI? Because I’m not a Doctor? What is it that makes him so much better that he earns your love?”

“Please, just-”

“It should be me! What can he give you that I can’t?”

Then he pushed the hair from your face and held it against your head, forcing you to look at him.

“I could have given you everything. I still can. Just tell them you’re safe, and I’ll make sure nothing ever happens to you, ever again.”

“Please, don’t-”

He turned to stand behind you, forcing you to look directly into the camera where the team could see the trails left behind through the blood on your cheeks, where your tears had flooded through them.

“TELL THEM!”

“Garcia, please tell me you have something.”

“Uh, maybe, I-I don’t know. I can’t be certain.”

“I’ll take what I can get, Garcia.”

“Well, I, uh-”

“Now, Garcia.” Spencer called out, his voice oddly even and a little cold.

“Sophia said his name was Toby-something. But I’ve looked through her files, her socials. There isn’t a single Toby, or Tobias or even Tobe.”

“Can you get a picture of him?”

“I’ve got a few, I’m running them through my database now.”

“What about Emily?” JJ asked. Everyone looked at her. “She grew up with Emily, right? Maybe she’ll know something.”

Spencer was already on the phone.

“Emily? Emily, listen to me. Was there anyone in Y/n’s past that she had trouble with? An ex boyfriend or something in college?”

“I- Reid, is everything okay?”

“Garcia will catch you up, but please. Was there anyone she talked about? Maybe a Toby-someone?”

Suddenly, Emily’s voice turned cold. “Reid, where is she?”

“Emily?”

“Back when she was in college, she was having trouble with a guy. Everyone called him Toby but his real name Jonathan. Toby was his middle name. He seemed fixated on her and one day, she found him in her apartment on campus. She called me and I got her out. After that, he seemed to disappear, but she always was weary.”

“Okay, send all the details you can to Garcia.”

“Already happening.”

All the team could do was wait and watch, hoping something would jump out at them to help find you.

“Do you love him?”

“I need to hear it from you. Do you love him?”

He picked up a weapon of some kind. A knife maybe.

“No, no, I can’t watch!” Garcia called out, turning her chair away.

A backhanded slap came across your face, the edge of the knife, cutting your cheek.

“Do. You. Love. Him?” Toby screamed louder.

Garcia squealed a little, hearing his arm movement. But just when she expected you to scream in pain, anyone who was listening heard what you said next.

“YES!” you screamed, fear of what was going to come next taking over. Maybe it would have been best to lie. But he wouldn’t have accepted it. And if he was going to kill you…

Toby faltered, looking down at you in heartbroken shock.

“Yes, yes. I do. I love him. Please…please don’t hurt me…I-”

Toby dropped the knife, the sound clattering on the floor, and he stepped back. Even from behind, they could all see the changes in his body movement.

From shock, heartbreak, to more shock to…anger.

And fear flashed across your face.

“No, no, no. Please. Toby- what-what are you doing?”

He was moving around the room, gathering things.

“Toby, please. Please don’t-”

Then the screen went dark.

“Garcia! Please tell me you have something!”

“Almost. Hold on. Wait.”

“We can’t-”

“The footage is still running. There’s no picture or sound, but it’s still running. Maybe if I can just- I’ve got her.”

“Garcia, send us the address.”

“Already done. Please bring her back safe.”

Toby had taken you forty minutes out of town, held up in a small town shed on a small plot of land he’d rented in cash, save for the electric bill that was in his name from a month earlier. Garcia couldn’t trace the address, but she could find the closest cell tower. And with a little cross reference, she found you.

All the team could do was hope you were still alive by the time they got to you.

It was agonising to listen to, but your screams let them know you were still alive. And when Morgan kicked down the door, Toby turned around you, holding your body against his front.

He’d changed you from being tied down in the chair to being strung up by your wrists. By the looks of it, however, you had managed to fight back, presumably in the small window of time you did have.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“No you won’t, Toby.”

“Won’t I?!”

You whimpered a little as the blade pushed further into your skin.

“You love her, don’t you? Don’t you want to see her happy?”

“She IS happy. She’s happy with me.”

“Really, Toby? Because I wouldn’t say she looks happy. I’d say she looks scared. Terrified, even.”

“No, no, no she’s not.”

“Morgan…”

“She loves me! She has to love me!”

“But she doesn’t. And do you really think this is how she’s going to fall in love with you? By forcing her into it?”

Toby changed.

“Doctor Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid. This is him, isn’t it? This is the one that took you from me? Maybe once I’m done with you, maybe, maybe he’ll be next.”

“No…”

“Or you can choose me. Choose me and they don’t get hurt. Choose me and-”

You jumped at the sound.

A gunshot.

Everything went silent and then the knife clattered to the floor once more, soon followed by Toby’s body.

For a moment, you heard JJ’s voice coming from Derek’s wire, and then everything came back into a blurry focus.

“Is it over? Is-is he dead?”

Reid moved closer, checking his pulse before nodding to Morgan.

“It’s over.”

“Thank god, please get these off me.”

Spencer was closer, taking his pocket knife out before cutting your binds, allowing you to stand fully on the floor once more.

Your arms wrapped around Spencer both out of necessity, since your legs gave way for a moment, and out of need to hug someone, anyone, who wasn’t Toby.

In his arms, Spencer could feel your entire body shaking. So he simply held you tighter.

“Is-is it-are you sure it’s over?”

“It’s over. Let's get you out of here.”

Spencer helped you out of the shed before walking you over to the ambulance that was pulling up behind one of the SUVs.

“P-please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

And he did.

Spencer stayed with you as they helped you into the ambulance and drove you to the hospital, he stayed with you as the doctors talked you through where they were taking you and what would happen and he was right there waiting for you, as you had asked, when you got out.

And when they finally found you a room, he stayed by your side, holding your hand.

Even hours later, you were still shaking with nerves and adrenaline.

“Have you called Emily?” you asked after a few hours of silence.

Spencer nodded. “She knows what happened. She’s also said she’s gonna catch the next flight out once they open the airports in London. Some storms closed the runways.”

You just nodded.

“Hey Spencer?”

Spencer hummed.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For…for what happened. I-I don’t know how much you saw from the footage but Toby…I should have lied. I should have tried to keep your name-”

Spencer shot out of his seat and sat on your bed facing you, slowly taking the hand you used to squeeze your eyes shut from crying, into his.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s-”

“It’s okay. All I care about is that you’re safe. Emily…she already knew. She… a couple months ago, she talked to me about it…because she figured that was how I felt about you.”

“Spence, no, you don’t have to-”

“We can talk about it more, when you’re better, but I just…I need you to know, you’re not alone. And I don’t want you to be sorry for what you said. Because, even though I’m sorry for how it had to happen, I’m not sorry about what was said.”

“You…you’re not?”

Spencer shook his head, looking down at your hands in his, his thumb tracing a constant pattern over your knuckles.

However, the familiar clicking of heels down the hall broke your intimate silence.

“We’ll talk about it?”

You nodded.

Garcia was calling out your name before she found your room and took a look at you.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Penelope,” you smiled.

And Spencer smiled, too. For the first time in the last week, let alone the last twenty four hours, you smiled. Genuinely smiled.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. If I-”

“It’s okay. You still found me. I’m okay.”

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. And Emily will be here soon so it won’t just be me, you’ll have both of us. Maybe we can live like the Golden Girls.”

You struggled to laugh, but laughed all the same. “I’d like that.”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll give you two some space to plan your move,” Spencer smiled.

You smiled softly back at him as he slowly walked out of the room, but not before Penelope called his name. “Bring her back some jello! Orange, if they have it!”

Spencer nodded, however he didn’t need telling why orange. It was your favourite.

“How do you know that’s my favourite?”

“Emily told me.”

You smiled. There had been a week back in middle school when all you could stomach was orange jello. You’d have thought that after being sick for a week, you’d never want to eat it again. But that never happened.

The doctors kept you in hospital for the next couple of days whilst the rest of the team helped finish the last couple of cases at the police department.

When you were finally cleared to fly, Hotch and Emily were the ones to help you with your things.

Hotch explained what would happen when you all got back to the Bureau and what would happen with yourself and your job.

“I know you’ll be itching to get back to work, but I want you to take some time off.”

“I will. I promise.”

By the time you got to the jet, you weren’t up in the air an hour before you excused yourself from Rossi’s story time to sit by the one person who brought you the most peace.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Spencer smiled and shook his head, making space for you beside him on the sofa.

“Do you want to sleep?”

“What are you reading?”

He showed you.

“Wizard of Oz.”

“Want me to read it to you? Studies have shown it helps with sleep.”

“I’d like that.”

Within twenty minutes, you were fast asleep against Spencer’s chest. He’s turned himself so you could lean against him and see the small pictures that had been drawn, as he read.

And thankfully, Rossi’s stories kept everyone distracted long enough for yourself and Spencer to not experience the embarrassment of getting caught in such a compromising position, considering you were both just meant to be friends.

A week later…

Yourself and Spencer had seen Emily off in the Airport, and after that, Spencer had driven you home. You’d stopped off for some chinese food on the way back, and even though you’d both had…half conversations about what you’d said in the hospital, neither of you had come right out and said, well, anything.

Until you stopped in your tracks, forcing Spencer to do the same.

“Is everything-”

“I feel I need to confess something.”

“Do you need a church or-”

“It’s not that kind of confession.” you turned to face Spencer fully.

In two weeks time, you’d be going back to work. And you couldn’t take another two weeks, plus additional ones of whatever the awkward…thing was between you both. Like you each knew each other's secret, but didn’t know its full whereabouts.

“I love you,” you told him, finally. “I know it seemed forced, but it was the truth nonetheless. I love you. I am in love with you and…I don’t know what to do about it. Because, first and foremost, you’re my friend. And no matter what, I don’t want to lose what we have. I love you, but most of all I like you. I like being around you. I like listening to you talk about different books and music and the fact that whales can produce sounds up to 188 decibels. I-”

“I love you, too.”

That forced you to stop. And Spencer could see your eyes searching for an explanation.

“I don’t know how it happened. All I know is that one day I just…breathed for the first time. That I saw you and knew that if I stopped, I might die.”

“Sounds a little dramatic.”

Spencer laughed a little. “I guess it does. But it’s true. I’m in love with you. And I like you, too.”

You smiled.

“You know, I had a crush on you for the longest time.”

“Really? How long?”

Part of it baffled Spencer that you had perhaps had feelings for him longer than he did you, but most of all it baffled him how he hadn’t noticed.

“For a while…”

With a smile, you felt yourself leaning into Spencer. And he felt himself do the same thing until finally your lips met his.

The kiss was gentle at first, but became a little more searing as his hand gently brushed the hair from your face to behind your ear, and pulled you a little closer.

And you both just stood there for a while, pressed against each other, allowing each kiss to let you both know it was, in fact, very real.

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heyclickadee · 2 days

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A couple things:

1. The thing is, I actually don’t really think we’re done with the bad batch, for a variety of reasons. There’s too much unresolved, for one thing, and “end of this chapter with these characters” is not how anyone says, “We’re never touching this again.” I really do think we’re getting an immediate follow up with more of a focus on Rex and Echo, but that the rest of the bad batch will still pop in from time to time, giving all of them a chance to round out the last little bit of their stories and character arcs—because they are all just a little bit undercooked. (For example: Crosshair doesn’t even get lines after Tantiss, and the last thing he says about himself takes him from implicitly to explicitly suicidal. The hug is beautiful and cements his place as part of the family, but we never get a moment where he forgives himself or no longer believes that he deserves to die. His redemption arc is magnificent, but it needs that last little push to feel fully resolved).

And, for another variety of reasons, I actually do still think we’ll be getting Tech back in one way or another. So much of what is left unresolved in TBB forms a chalk outline around a Tech-shaped void, for one. The writers aren’t committed enough to have come up with a decent reason for why he had to go in the first place—stakes does not cut it and is actively undermined by never treating it like a character death—for another. They were, at the very least, not committed enough to actually kill him. Tech is the only character in a show that loves making us watch who doesn’t die on screen, and the only one who’s “death” moves nothing forward and is never treated like an actual death. And we have no definitive proof he actually died, for another. (Even if he was CX-2—CX-2 got “killed” two other times on screen and popped up five minutes later each time like a daisy. If you do that you’re going to have to burn the body and scatter the ashes for me to think he’s dead, impalement or no. Besides, you can’t definitively kill a main character via subtext. You still have to be clear and direct.) And Tech has too many callback lines and potential survival foreshadowing for someone to never tug on them at some point, for another. You’d have to kill me to keep me from doing something with, “Better late than dead.” Basically, tl:dr, I think Tech will come back someday, whether they have plans or not.

Because I can’t really get on board with the idea that The Bad Batch was just always badly written. I can’t agree with that. It was never perfect, of course, but it was always remarkably well written and thematically consistent for 46 straight episodes and then tripped on the chalk of the finish line. Besides, I’ve never seen bad writing that was perfectly set up amazing writing if all they did was one simple thing—ie, follow through with what they set up. It’s not that the ending is bad, it’s that it’s bad in this particularly insane way. If it was just normal bad, I’d have dropped The Bad Batch like a rock by now and done my best to forget I’d ever watched it. But because it’s bad like this—basically, a non-ending that resolves nothing but Hunter’s Cut Lawquane arc, Rampart (which was good, actually), and the problem of Hemlock continuing to draw breath (which was just the last major obstacle in Hunter’s Cut Lawquane arc, so it’s not even a separate thing) and answers NO questions—I’m obsessed.

And I can’t get behind the idea that The Bad Batch ending is like this and that we got shorted a Tech return because they got shorted a season. I’ve seen many serialized animated shows that got shorted a season or more, and what every one of them did was cut out everything they could in the middle so that they could get to the resolution they wanted, squash the originally planned last season’s arcs into the actual last season—not leave those arcs undone and the resolution out. The only way them being shorter a season works as an explanation for all of this is if the creative team found out season three was the last at the same time we did. And even then, the solution there would have been to take out five minutes of fight scene and replace it with five minutes of resolving everything in the short and stupid but still THERE way.

For example: Give Wrecker and Crosshair one line each after Tantiss that tells us what they’re going to do. Unmask CX-2 as Tech after spearing him (or don’t spear him) and add one line where Hunter says he’s recovering and that it’ll be a long road, but they won’t give up on him. Or! If you don’t want to bring Tech back in the short and stupid but there way, add a line to the epilogue where Hunter tells Omega, “I see Tech when I look at you sometimes. I don’t want to lose you the way we lost him,” which seems like a no brainer, or, “Tech would have been so proud of you,” which is absolutely a no-brainer if you actually want to close things out for Tech. Tech would still be gone, but at least it’d be resolved, and that’s all short, simple stuff you could add to the very last episode to make it feel finished. If you’re shorted a season or even a few episodes, you cut everything that doesn’t matter, you do whatever you can to get your story resolved—unless you have somewhere else to put it. Which, given how open Star Wars canon is and how heavily it relies on recontextualization, is a very real possibility here.

What I think may have happened here is that The Bad Batch ended up being the first part of a longer story that had to be artificially cut in half. Whether it was always planned that way, whether it was something that unexpectedly happened partway through the production of season three, or a secret third option (the creative team set things up to to be resolved in three seasons but always wanted to do a longer version, but the longer version (in the form of another show) didn’t get greenlit until they’d already written most of season three, so all the payoff got schlorped over to that follow up show while the payoff stayed in this one, leaving us, the audience, with this incredibly unsatisfying mess of a finale in the meantime while whoever is in charge of announcing shit at Lucasfilm doesn’t see the problem). Put a pin in CX-2, slap something that looks like a happy ending on the rest, resolve nothing, do it all in the next thing.

(Slight sidebar: If it turns out that the reason we didn’t get Tech back is because something went horrifically wrong during the writer’s strike—basically, the finale got hit with extreme budget cuts and the script patched by AI—I think we’d still get Tech back. Tech in the first two seasons was something of a writer blorbo, and no one is leaving their blorbo dead over that. That’s a good way for them to bring back their blorbo and have that blorbo murder the hell out of a thinly disguised CEO insert.)

And if that’s what we’re looking at—well, okay. I can see wanting to give certain things (especially a Tech return) more time. If this is what’s happening I actually think it will be more satisfying in the long run, from a story perspective, anyway. I’ll be able to live with that.

That said….

2. If that’s the case—if what we’re looking at is a story artificially split in half one way or another and we are getting a Tech return and the rest of the resolution eventually in an immediate follow up, something that will ultimately work really well in the long run—that doesn’t mean I think it works now. Right now, it’s awful, from every angle. We don’t know for sure that anything else is coming, it makes for a deeply unsatisfying story right now because the “ending” we have is all we have to go on, and it’s unnecessarily stressful for most everyone but especially the autistic fans who relate to Tech.

And the thing is, if Tech were neurotypical? I don’t think we’d really be question the idea that he could still come back eventually. He’s a clear writer favorite to the point that they basically gave him the entirety of season two, except the two Crosshair episodes, great lines and moments in other character’s episodes, and they apparently liked using him so much that either CX-2 was Tech or they physically couldn’t stop themselves from writing and animating Tech in a season he wasn’t in. Killing off one of the writer faves and the fan favorite in order to bring them back later is something that happens. But it’s something that hits differently when that writer and fan favorite is also the only canonically autistic character in the franchise.

Which. Is I think where we run into a problem. You see, I never really got the impression that the creative team ever thought of Tech as The Autistic One. Does that mean I think the didn’t write him as autistic? Of course not—they absolutely did, and did so intentionally. What I mean is that that wasn’t the sum total or even the primary way in which they thought of him, otherwise I think we would have ended up with a terrible Sheldon-Cooper-esque. Instead, the Tech they wrote, and the Tech we got, is just a guy. A really amazing guy who’s noticeably different and autistic AF, but treated like any other character. And on the one hand, great! I know people have a lot of different ideas about this, but I personally want writers to deal with autistic characters that way—to just write us like we’re people. And if what they’re doing is bringing Tech back later and on a longer timeframe than what we expected—also great. It means that all the ambiguity, hinting, and complete and total lack of processing or closure makes sense, because that’s how you write a fakeout death. That’s textbook how you write a fakeout death. But—but—

The flip-side of just treating Tech like any other character and, perhaps, playing a long game with “killing” him off and bringing him back later like someone would do with a fan favorite, if that’s what they’re doing, is that you end up in the situation that we’re in right now. The interim situation where it feels like Tech’s sacrifice was never given the weight it needed to feel final or meaningful, where we’re given no closure and no opportunity to let go, where we DON’T know if anything is coming next even if we do get hints, where Tech got dropped, where nothing makes sense, and where the autistic fans in the audience who relate to Tech feel like Star Wars kicked them in the face and told them that they don’t belong here.

So.

I want this to be a long game, and I do think this could, one, be a situation where they team is having to work around some kind of corporate shenanigans to play that long game, and; two, could end up being a fantastic story that I love even more than the version I wanted.

But even if I’m right and that is the case, I also hate that this is where we’re at in the here and now, that it’s hurt people as badly as it has, and think that they should never do anything like this again, because the game stopped being fun a long time ago.

tl;dr: I don’t think we’re done yet, I think this is part of a longer story, I think we’ll get Tech back at some point whether it was planned or not, but I also hhhaaaaaatte the current situation and think it’s been mishandled.

#the bad batch #tech lives #no I really do think they’ll bring him back eventually #if only because no one actually seems happy about this #and also it’s the smart business move #does that mean I think where we’re at is okay?#nnnnnnooooooooooo #this still sucks #if we do get him back I swear I’m writing another letter to Lucasfilm #‘great! love it! love seeing him back! NEVER DO THIS AGAIN.’

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try-set-me-on-fire · 40 minutes

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Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

#not sure about the pacing on this but i mean it to be a short fic so its not like there will really be time to spread it out any more #tag games #seven sentence sunday #buddietommy

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cassandracain52 · 2 days

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Damian Wayne has a metal spine

Ok so I’ve talked about Damian having his spine replaced three times on this page and every time I’ve gotten a surplus of people confused about when/how that happened

so in the interest of saving time, I’m going to give a brief synopsis of the entire event. (All comic panels are from comic issues Batman and Robin (2009) TBD 1 Part 2 - Batman and Robin (2009) TBD 2 Part 2) Funnily enough this happens in the same time period that Tim lost his spleen aka When Bruce Is Lost In Time

(!Warning! There will be talk of the G*nt M*rr*s*n Talia character assassination as this happens during that run)

Alright so the whole thing first starts when Damian is shot repeatedly in the back by a villain named “Flamingo” and loses the feeling in his lower body

Because Damian is paralyzed, Dick and Alfred take him back to his mother to be treated

There is where we see Talia arranging for Damian to have his entire spine replaced by a synthetic one

The surgery works but Damian still can’t walk for a few weeks

Oh and I can’t forget to mention that before Alfred and Damian leave, Talia has this lovely conversation-

Here she very clearly vocalizes that since Bruce is dead, Damian has no reason to stay in Gotham and that she wants him to come back home.

Damian refuses to be a weapon used against the Bats and Talia -very suspiciously might I add- just lets him leave

We later find out the reason she didn’t put up much fight to keep Damian in her care was actually because his new spine was laced with tiny machines that allowed for someone to merge with his nervous system and control his actions

of course we find this out when Damian appears to randomly attempt to murder Dick for no apparent reason

Talia then gives control over Damian to Slade -freakin’- Wilson. Arguably the worst possible person to give this control to right below Ra’s Al Ghul himself

Slade to absolutely no one’s surprise, appears to have agreed to this strictly so he can try to kill Dick. Dick ends up figuring out that it’s Slade (after the man makes Damian yell “SlaDe” in a truly brilliant reveal) and thinks of a way to free Damian

Unfortunately his solution is to shock the crap out of Damian’s nervous system because -and I quote- “Your heart can take it, but his?”

He proceeds to more or less give this poor kid electro shock therapy and zap Slade into releasing his hold on Damian. (No hate to Dick it was a time sensitive situation but yikes Damian can’t catch a break)

It works and the connection between Damian and Slade is severed. (Yay??? I guess??)

Batman and Robin then return to the cave where Damian promptly declares he needs to see his Mother right now and Dick agrees but comes with him

Dick quickly finds the machine that they had been using to control Damian and promptly smashes it to pieces. (As he should)

Damian however goes straight to Talia to talk about her -ya know- putting a bunch of robots in his back

the conversation goes as well as you’d expect it to and Talia then reveals that “Oh btw, I’m growing another Damian cause you’re flawed”

She also offers Damian one last chance to reconsider and come back to the League.

Because he’s not completely crazy Damian of course refuses which prompts Talia to do this-

Just straight up disowns Damian right there.

This then starts everything to do with Heretic and all that and Damian’s eventual death (G*nt M*rrs*s*n you are truly my biggest opp)

But that’s not important here, what’s important is that while it can no longer be used to control him, Damian still has the metal spine!

Hope this cleared things up for anyone who was confused/didn’t know about it!🖤

#Damian Wayne’s metal spine #Dc comics #talia al ghul #grant morrison if I ever catch you it’ll be on sight #dick grayson #batman and robin #damian wayne #Hope this was helpful #Just imagine the chronic pain that would cause

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jadeleechisagoodboy · 2 days

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I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, and an even longer time since I’ve posted any art or fan fiction. It’s not that I haven’t been making any new stuff, I absolutely have, but the problem with making stuff solely for fun is that I only work on it up until I’m not having fun any more, then I drop that particular piece forever.

As a result, the vast majority of my writing and art remains in the bullet-pointed draft/messy sketch phase forever. I don’t particularly consider them “unfinished”, because frankly they are as “finished” as they’re going to get, which is perfectly fine for me because I get just as much enjoyment from the half-baked product as I would from a hypothetical “finished” product, but it also means that I never end up posting any of it.

So I decided to get over my perfectionism a little bit and post some of my messy sketches here for you guys to see!

(The first five are Jade x my Yuusona and the last one is Floyd x Riddle).

1).

Okay so this one I drew all the way back during the first Vargas Camp event. It was basically supposed to be Jade complaining about how both his brother and his girlfriend were going camping without him lol. I was also going to put Floyd and Azul in the background looking very unamused by their theatrics.

2 & 3).

Jade hugging Yuu from behind and Yuu hugging Jade from behind. The idea for the second one specifically was that Jade was too busy working on something to pay attention to her, so she squeezed herself in between him and the back of the chair to hug him while he worked.

4).

This one was just me wanting to draw Jade having a cute reaction to getting kissed on the cheek ☺️

5).

This one was going to be a wedding photo, but I never got around to designing actual wedding clothes for them

6).

Aaaaand finally Fem!Floyd pinning Fem!Riddle to a wall

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #jade leech #twst jade #twst yuusona #twst jade x yuu #floyd leech #twst floyd #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #floyd x riddle #twst fanart

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mysticreigns · 3 days

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AU Roman Reigns x Ember (OC)

💧warnings: angst, bit of fluff, errors I may have missed MINORS DNI!

💧A special thank you to @mzv11 for helping me with this!❤️

💧tag list: @acknowledge-reigns @my-roman-empiree @wrestlingprincess80

💧Banner made by me! Do not repost my fics without my permission! Reblogs are fine. I had originally planned to make his a one shot but it would be over 4k words if not more. So I'm splitting it up into a few parts.

💧if you wish to be tagged in my future fics please let me know.

💧word count: 1.1k

Ember looked out of the news room window, the dryness of the ground being the only thing noteworthy. For 3 months the small town in Arizona that she called home had been in the hold of a rough drought. Crops had withered because of the intense heat and it didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. The coolness of night was the only reprieve the town got. Her coworker, Joe Anoa'i, didn't seem phased in the slightest.

"you seem oddly relaxed for how hot it is!" Ember said. A/c units all across the state had been pushed to their limit, working as hard as they could to keep everyone cool. Ember was sweating even though the temperature in the room was only 75° "the heat doesn't bother me!" He shrugged. Ember noticed that he wasn't sweating like she was. He was in a business suit, surely he would be sweating just like everyone else.

"I'm fine actually! I told you the heat doesn't bother me!" He said "we gotta get back to work!"

Ember's makeup had started to run down her face, making it streak as beads of sweat cascades down her skin. Her makeup needed redone, badly. The make-up artist Ran to her, blotting her face with a towel, reapplying the makeup that her skin seemed to want to get rid of. She turned to look at joe to ask him how she looked but he wasnt there "where'd he go?" She asked.

The makeup artist shrugged, having been to focused on ember's makeup to give her any real answer. Ember had to finish the news before she could go look for joe. A clash of thunder rolled, making everyone stop in their tracks "is that thunder?" One of the crewman asked.

"I think it is!" Ember yelled "are we about to get rain?! I need to go to the roof, I'll be right back!"

Ember hurried to the stairs, running as fast as she could up each flight, trying to keep herself from running out of breath. She got to the last flight of stairs, panting heavily, the muscles in her legs screaming from all the workout she just gave them.

She walked to the door to the rooftop, opening it and seeing dark clouds in the sky. Rain was indeed coming! It almost cam from no where! The radar hadn't shown any sign of a storm, yet this one seemed to pop up from thin air. Ember's dark brown hair blew across her face, the wind cooling her once soaked skin. The first few raindrops hit her hand, making her look up. A child like wonder filling her as the rain fell from the once cloudless sky, soaking her clothes.

Joe's POV

My name isn't Joe Anoa'i, my name is Aros, god of rain. I am the son of Miros, god of time. I've given this small town the rain it needs when it can no longer handle the drought.

Ember's attention to detail almost got me caught. I've lived in this little Arizona town for hundreds of years and I've never come that close to being found out. I was banished here by my father when I didn't agree with him remarrying so soon after him and my mother parted ways. He said 'you need some time to think! I love you but your mother and I aren't for each other anymore!'

I snuck away from ember while everyone was distracted, heading to the roof top. It was time to end this towns suffering and give it the water it so desperately needed. Just as the clashes of thunder rolled I heard the door to the roof open. It was ember. She hadn't seen me thankfully but that was to close. The first few drops of rain hit and she looked up, a smile forming on her face. As the rain began to pour, she simply stood there, her arms outstretched as she spun in a circle, her clothes becoming soaked. I must admit she was a beautiful woman. In my awe of her beautiful form, I hadn't paid attention to what was on the ground beneath me and stepped on a small rock, the noise of it moving catching ember's attention. As she spun around, her nipples poked through her soaking wet shirt. I may be a god but I'm not immune to desire. My ability to hide myself faultered and she looked at me with confusion "joe?"

Fuck! I can't lie to her either. "How are you dry when it's pouring down rain?" She asked, I could see in her face she knew there was no logical explanation for what she was seeing but if I tell her will she believe me? All I can do is try.

"Ember, im not- my real name isn't joe! My name is Aros!" I said, hoping I didn't have to explain further and she would get the hint.

"so... you're running from the law and under an alias makes you stone dry in the pouring rain?" She questioned. Her observation skills weren't going to let me off that easily.

"no ember! I'm not running from the law!" I said, starting to get frustrated that she wasn't picking up on what I was trying to say, so I just decided to come out with it "ember, I'm a god!"

A look of confusion formed on her face "is this a joke? Is this you're way of dodging my question? Because if you thi-"

She stopped when the rain started forming shapes "ok that's not normal! Rain isnt supposed to be in shapes!"

"that's not even a tenth of what I can do!" I said, making the small shapes form into a single large one, forming it around her but using it to bring her to me "I told you I wasn't lying!"

"this can't be real!" She said, she was shocked by I didn't sense any fear from her. Almost as if she wanted it to happen.

"Ember, you can't tell anyone about this! I've been here for a LONG time and I've saved this town many times from drought!"

"But why are you here?" She asked.

"that's not something we need to discuss right now. I have to go, someone is coming!" I said gently setting her down "I'll find you!"

Part 2 coming soon...

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