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jackalsprey · 1 year

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The 516 Unit (May make this a series)

UM. So...

I may have been digging around @asktrio516's old posts recently, and I discovered an old AU of hers...a Detective AU... and NOW I'VE WRITTEN SOMETHING FOR IT. With headcanons of my own for the characters she didn't mention in that post. EMMA I AM SO SORRY. (And I have another post lined up that involves her ocs... sigh. I am so sorry Emma.)

Anyways - DETECTIVE AU! Not much happens here, I want to save the action for later installments, this is mostly a slice of life depicting the actual relationships and dynamics of the unit.

Oh for quick reference - ages!

Thomas: 24 -Edward: 56 - Henry: 28 (don't ask why I make him and Hiro so young XD) - Gordon: 42 - James: 38 - Percy: 22 - Toby: 53 - Duck: 31 - Donnie and Douglas: 34 - Oliver: 32 - Emily: 27 - Rosie: 23 - Hiro: 30 (not all of them are here, but if I make this a series, then they will be)

Sodor. A small, lush green island off the coast of England, filled with beautiful valleys, towering mountains, and quaint classical towns. It's a vacation hotspot and a thriving business center.

This also means its' crime rate is massive. The local gang, nicknamed the "Diesels" because of their habit of leaving oil on each of the places or people they've robbed, hit all over the island on a regular basis. And that means a cop force has to be in place to stop them.

And luckily for Sodor, they've got some of the best in the UK: The 516 unit. These brave men and women head out into the streets on the daily, ready to kick ass, save the day, and risk their lives to be the heroes the island needs.

Unfortunately, most of them also happen to be idiots, as demonstrated by Detective Montague "Duck" Pannier, and his partner and cousin, Oliver Swindon.

"Oliver, that is disgusting and should not be allowed by God. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion you'll be struck down by him in the next thirty seconds."

Oliver sighed, continuing to stir honey into his mocha latte. The two detectives stood in the unit's walk-in kitchen, it was an ungodly hour of the morning, and frankly, he had neither the time nor the patience for his cousin's bullshit.

"Duck, frankly, I don't give a damn. You be boring over there with your tea and leave me alone."

The blond pinched the bridge of his nose. "There are two ways of doing things, Oliver. The Great Western Way-"

"And the wrong way, I know, I know. And from where I'm sitting..." Oliver cocked his eyebrow. "You're doing it the wrong way."

Before Duck could respond by cracking his mug over his cousin's head (it was his favorite whale mug), the bickering was interrupted by the stern voice of one Gordon Gresley - the 6'2 wall of lean muscle they called their unit chief. Always clad in a blue suit and a pipe in his mouth, his salt and pepper hair neatly brushed, no one tried to piss the chief off unless they had a death wish. Especially not this early in the morning.

"Gentlemen," he sighed.

Oliver snapped to attention, while Duck simply turned around and leaned against the counter, sipping from his mug unconcernedly. "Chief Gresley, sir! What can we do for you?"

"Stop blocking the fridge, for a start," he grumbled. "Don't keep a man from his breakfast."

Oliver scrambled out of the way, while Gordon yanked open their beaten-up fridge and pulled out a carton of vanilla yogurt and some milk. He firmly believed in the idea of keeping as much calcium in your body as possible. The last thing he needed was for his officers to get broken bones. Popping the lid off, he made the rare choice to make small talk - about work, of course.

"Have you seen any of the others so far today?" He asked his detective duo. "I haven't heard anyone come in besides you two."

Duck shrugged, gesturing out to the maze of cubicles behind the door his chief had just walked through. "I saw Edward head downstairs to the analog systems. No clue why he loves those old things so much. Haven't seen anyone else so far."

Oliver scratched his neck. "The twins should be here soon. Douglas is just picking Donald up."

"Oh, of course you know just where Douggie is," Duck teased, wiggling his eyebrows and dodging the fist aimed at his ear.

Sighing, Oliver continued. "And I think the rookies are on their way as well, sir."

"Eager kids," Gordon commented, gulping down some milk and putting the carton back. "They piss me off, but they'll be good. Eventually."

The rookies in question were Rosita "Rosie" Davenport, Thomas Awdry, and Percy Wickham. They were all recent graduates of the police academy and had been serving in the unit for only a few months respectively. Thomas and Percy in particular were described as the "little shit nuggets" by the Scottish Twins, and had issues with following orders. Rosie at least was good at listening and could be trusted to not do anything stupid... most of the time.

Duck finished his tea with a sigh and put the mug in the sink. "Well, I'm off to work on the Diseasel case. You coming, Oliver?"

"Gimme a minute, gotta finish the coffee."

"That coffee is an abomination."

"Duck, you son of a-"

"Stop, both of you," Gordon sighed. "God, why can't Edward be around right now..."

=================================

Contrary to what the movies and TV said, most of the police work was paperwork and not charging into warehouses and criminal gang hideouts, though there was still plenty of that involved. Instead, most members of the 516 unit, who had since filed into the office in varying stages of tiredness, sat at their desks, filling out reports, sorting old files, and trying their best to stay awake. That last part was having various levels of success.

Finally, one particular agent couldn't stand it any longer - the Latino ladies man James Hughes. Tall, with wavy black hair that had a couple red streaks in the front, and always in a red leisure suit with black undertones, he looked sexy and he knew it. He stood up, slammed his laptop shut, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"If we don't get a new case in the next five minutes, I will jump out of the window after breaking it with Gordon's chair!"

"I think we'd all appreciate that, James," Oliver grumbled from his corner. "Jumping out the window, not breaking it and Gordon's chair."

"I don't give a fuck, I'm bored and I'm antsy! Give us a fucking case already!"

Thomas hopped to his feet as well. "I'm with James! Why is today so slow?"

Donald (or was it Douglas?) scoffed. "Ah, the action'll come latter for ye, laddie. Most days, bein a coppa's just this bullshit."

Douglas (or was it Donald?) nodded in agreement with his brother. "Aye. It ain't all shoot-outs and drug busts, lad."

And perfectly on cue, the sires went off, announcing the arrival of a new case. The loudspeakers came up with the voice of their PA, Emily Gallagher, giving them the update.

"Unit 516, I need at least two officers to respond to a 10-33 in Arlesburgh - it appears there has been another Diesel attack. Vandalism and larceny are the accused crimes."

"You were saying, gentlemen?" James cackled, already on his way out the door. "Yo, Thomas! You wanna get some action?"

"Hell yeah!" The younger man fist-pumped and followed him.

"Remember to call for-"

SLAM!

"Back-up..." Gordon finished, sighing heavily.

Just another day at the 516 unit.

======================

JESUS THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG. Once again, Emma, I am so sorry.

The AU and the designs in mind belong to @asktrio516, of course.

#ttte edward #ttte duck #ttte james #ttte #ttte humanized #ttte donald #ttte au #ttte thomas #ttte human au #ttte henry #ttte hiro #ttte percy #ttte rosie #ttte gordon #ttte toby #ttte oliver #ttte douglas #ttte emily

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wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday #11

I think the only thing I've worked on this week is that royalty Blue Phantom fic, so you get that!!!

Blue found themself desperately trying to keep up with Quackfaster’s quick strides. “But- I- But I’ve known her for years! How can she just give up on me like that? Emily, please-”

Quackfaster came to such an abrupt halt that Blue nearly crashed into her, but managed to draw up short next to her as she turned to face them. “Look,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not really your fault. And I know this is sudden. I’m sorry.” She reached out, putting a hand on their arm. Unlike with so many others, Blue didn’t flinch away. “But we’ve been barely holding on for a while now, and your outbursts aren’t helping. We have to let you go.”

Blue swallowed, the first tear running down their face. Their voice was shaky, full of repressed emotion that occasionally cracked through to the surface. “Please…”

Quackfaster let out a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But we have to.”

The second tear fell, and Blue shook their head. “No no no… I don’t- what am I supposed to do?”

The duck reached up, gently brushing away the forming tears. “I don’t know. But you can’t come back.”

With that she gently pulled back, then turned away and continued walking down the road. Blue watched her go, shoulders hunched, eyes full of tears, frozen on the spot.

Then they turned back and walked in the opposite direction, trembling.

Quackfaster cameo :0 XD

All of the guards collectively jumped, and Blue winced as their hair was pulled on harder. They’d already had tear-tracks down their face from their outburst, and the constant pain was only adding to them.

The king’s inventor and advisor, Lord Gearloose, stepped from the throne room and noticed them immediately. “What’s going on? The king wants to know what the commotion is about.”

Lord Crackshell breathed a curse. “This wizard,” he nodded at Blue, “has apparently just completely torn up the king’s gardens. I was going to inspect the damage before moving forward, as the king would be… most upset at this loss.”

“There’s not much left to inspect.” The knight said with a shrug.

Lord Gearloose frowned, worry lines becoming apparent on his forehead. “Yes, that is a wise decision. I can go make up some excuse, while the guards take him to the holding cell.”

“Them,” Blue whispered again.

This time they were heard, and Lord Gearloose corrected his sentence. “Them to the holding cell. You and Dame Della can go see what can be done about the mess.”

While all of this was going on, a guard that had been left behind was just catching up, wheezing and clanking towards them. He ran at top speed to catch up, and dashed past the group. “Don’t worry, I can go tell the king for you!”

“No-!” Lord Gearloose and Crackshell exclaimed, but it was already too late. The guard had disappeared into the throne room.

Lord Gearloose let out a slow breath. “Someone is going to get executed today.” He sounded more stressed and exasperated than worried.

Lord Crackshell nodded, and together their gazes both landed on Blue.

Blue’s heart dropped, and they squeezed their eyes shut as fresh tears ran down their face.

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melancholypancakes · 2 months

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Hey, so this is going to be a whole rant, sorry I've been gone.

Lack of internet and mainly my job i feel like a workaholic 😭

Anyway, so not many of you know but I've been a TMNT fan for most of my life.

I, unfortunately, grew up with the 2012 series, there are several reasons why that show went downhill.

Donnie x April, writing, the romantic trope is written, the turtles all having a romantic love interest, Leo crushing on Kirai ( his sister may i say) and honestly lost me after the love triangle with April, Donnie, and Casey.

except for Raphael and Mona Lisa, i love them as a couple i wish rise had them in the show or movie.

I have seen the 1980s movies and cartoon shows of TMNT through my dad who is an even bigger fan of TMNT but only the originals.

I'll explain more on, however, 2003 or 2007 i have never seen.

Honestly, I have never loved TMNT more than Rise, I'm in love with Leo and Donnie smart and funny guys count me in XD

I recently started watching the show and when it came out and 15 year old me, did not give it a chance.

At first, i thought it was dumb, i still think they look like frogs lol and i was still confused why April's skin color was changed.

I was used to seeing white April than black April and my dad does not see her as April but as a completely different character.

I'll get back to that later but oh boy i missed out on a good show, given it is still too kiddy for me.

But i love the humor, animation and yes, i believe Leo and Donnie carry the show with the humor :)

Just watching season 1 is making me happy, I'm super into it.

I just love it's the opposite of the old TMNT and less serious.

The old TMNT never really got me into loving the turtles like Rise i just liked them like heroes until Rise..

Usually, Leo is the serious older brother, and leader, Ralph angry fighter, and Donnie is an inventor genius while Mikey is the big pizza lover and fun kid.

While on the rise...

Raph is a giant softie older Brother, Leo is a dumb ninja, Donnie is genius still but autistic in this world which is confirmed and Mikey isn't a full-on pizza lover like in the previous media adaptions but an artist, a fun-loving kid who loves pizza like his bros.

I love the fact Shelldon's voice by the original Michelangelo.

I hope to watch season 2 and the movie soon, definitely won't see the movie til i see season 2.

I recently got into the Rottmnt fandom and made two OCs

Emily & Gwendolyn, i mention them because of the topic I'm going to bring up.

So as far as i will til i upload the drawings of my OCs.

Emily is a half-American half-Japanese teenage human girl, with a mysterious/dark past, best friends with April, and has a HUGE crush on Leo.

Emily lives with her aunt, uncle and cousins it is noting her father is not in the picture and confirmed he is deceased while the mother is a mystery for now.

It's a semi-canon Emily has a large dragon burn mark on her right arm

{...}

Gwendolyn or Gwen is Donnie's human online friend she is surprised that he is a turtle mutant but thinks it is cool, she is a geek, hipster, comic book lover, and mainly chill.

She is basically Ramona Flowers, with the chill vibe, hammer weapon, and dying her hair every day different color.

Gwen is a chubby, Hispanic teenage girl, she lives in New York with her family and is a classmate to April and Emily.

She is known as a smart gal, hipster internet blogger, and gamer.

She is a love interest for Donnie but is not confirmed until later on that they're dating (most likely early season 2 wise)

I recently heard that if you have a cartoon and you have a certain race that character has to be voiced by that certain race.

That kinda sounds like reverse racism, i would go into it but don't want to say anything wrong.

But if i were to choose voice actors for my OCs Emily definitely be voiced by 'Misuki' even though she is only a singer she would be perfect for Emily

Gwen probably would be voiced by Zoe Saldaña, i just see her voice like that :)

Now as for TMNT 2014 & 2016 Bayverse i did not enjoy as much the CGI was just weird and the first movie was alright but the second i wasn't into.

Once again one of the turtles had a crush on April, Mikey.

I dont mind mutant x mutant or mutant x human but it has become weird ever since 2012 Donnie had a crush on April 2014 Mikey had a crush on April.

And now mutant mayhem Leo having a crush on April. What's next Raph has a crush on April.

Personally, i think they should use a different female character to be shipped with the turtles other than April.

As some may tell i didn't enjoy the TMNT mutant mayhem movie, the humor was there but the writing and animation didn't make me fall in love with it, unlike Rise.

However, my dad or i suppose any old TMNT fan, doesn't enjoy the new adaption of TMNT as it become more childish than serious.

Well, from what i seen as an old TMNT fan my dad didn't enjoy the animation or new personalities of the turtles in Rise and the humor doesn't hit him as much.

It's just fun and funny to me him criticizing the show that i personally enjoy XD

I kinda do ship April and Cassandra, not going to lie thought it would be cute :))

Honestly, realized I'm the same age as Raph XD Oh shit, still ship Mona Lisa and Raph though.

This is all i had to rant about, i do love the ROTTMNT series more than the previous franchises before.

Also, I recommend these videos that goes into the deeper dive of TMNT & ROTTMNT all together to get what I mean.

https://youtu.be/bHVB6Ple0bI?si=JB5ump3eYFWFvn1w

https://youtu.be/iBBMxpyLp5E?si=5AqtJLimueLIS1vf

https://youtu.be/_fFXXF051ZI?si=b7jF4SeIJY0Achgm

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #rant post #My ocs #Upcoming chacters #Tmnt 2012 & ROTTMNT #Renew ROTTMNT #it's so good #april o'neil #cassandra jones #casey jones #master splinter

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 years

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Penny Lane - Spencer Reid

A/N: I have some Criminal Minds request like deep in archives and I was watching Criminal Minds today so this came up! xD I hope you guys like it! I am so sorry for the delay xD

Request - Anonymous submitted: Criminal Minds Imagine: can you do a Spencer x reader where one of the team members gets shot so they’re waiting in the hospital for them and she is crying a lot and Spencer hates that she’s crying so he pulls her into his lap and she hugs him super tight and cries into his shoulder. And the rest of the team is distracted from their worry by how cute it is.

Warnings: Penelope gets shot; mentions of a gunshot and blood; based on S3;E9 (Penelope)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Criminal Minds :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Penny Lane

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes There beneath the blue suburban skies Penny Lane

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"Ma'am as I've told you before-"

"It's been hours! You have to know something!"

"It's been forty minutes since you arrived and-"

"I DON'T CARE! THAT IS MY SISTER IN THERE! And if you don't tell me an update I'm going to sue you! Not this hospital! I am going to sue you personally-"

"Ma'am, you need to calm down-"

"That is detective to you!"

You ignored the calls towards you. JJ was the first one to try and get your attention as she walked over to you with Hotch and Reid. They were all looking at you as if they had just seen a ghost. JJ was the first one to approach you and tried again, but failed.

"It has been at least over an hour!"

Then Hotch tried, in a more demanding tone but you still ignored it.

"If you don't tell me any updates I swear-!"

It wasn’t until you finally heard Spencer call your name, softly placing his hand on yours, trying to not upset you any further. You finally turned to look at the three of them, realizing for the first time that they were next to you. You looked at JJ, then Hotch, and finally, Spencer.

"They won't tell me anything" you said, angrily. "She's been in there forever and they won't say anything!" you started raising your voice.

"It's okay" JJ assured you. "Why don't you go with Spencer and you can change your clothes?" she said, looking at the blood all over you.

"But P-Pen-"

"There's not much more we can do for now" Hotch said. "Go with Reid, okay?"

You sighed, nodding, knowing it was more of an order than a suggestion.

"Come on" Spencer said, gabbing your hand but you quickly pulled away.

"I don't want to get blood on you" you muttered. Spencer noticed your tone going softer and he smiled slightly.

"It's fine" he said, grabbing it again.

He walked with you to the nearest bathroom and waited outside for you to change. You walked out in BAU clothes and looked up at Spencer. He felt his heart breaking when he noticed how lost your look seemed. He could tell you tried really hard to wash the blood off you but he could still see traces of it in your hands and your arms.

"I'm c-cold" you muttered. Spencer quickly took his sweater off and put it on you. "Thanks" you whispered. Spencer knew this was bad. You would normally argue with him for a couple of minutes before accepting his sweater.

The two of you walked in silence back to the waiting room where Emily and Rossi had joined the other two.

"Where's Morgan?" Spencer asked Hotchner.

"He's not answering his phone" JJ told him.

"You okay, kid?" Rossi asked and you only nodded.

"What happened?" Emily dared to ask what everyone was dying to. You opened your mouth to say something but, nothing came out.

"You don't have to tell us right now" Hotch insisted and you smiled gratefully at him.

"What the hell happened?!" everyone turned around to see Morgan practically stomping his way to them.

"She's still in surgery-" JJ started, trying to calm him down, but he walked past JJ and made his way towards you.

"What the hell happened!?"

"You need to stay calmed" Spencer said, stepping protectively in front of you.

"Don't tell me what to be!" Morgan snapped before he looked back at you. "I know you were there so, what the fuck happened?"

"Morgan!" Hotch warned him.

"I don't know" you said in a small voice.

"You don't know?" Derek raised his voice again.

"N-no-"

"HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW IF YOU WERE THERE? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?!"

"MORGAN!" Spencer said, fuming.

"ANSWER ME!"

"I DON'T KNOW, DEREK!" you snapped. "I w-was waiting for Pen to come back from her d-date! She told me I should wait up! A-and when she was being dropped off, I heard a gun- gunshot!" you yelled. "I ran outside and tried to look for the person who shot her but I c-couldn't find anyone!" you said, with your eyes welling up. "And then I came b-back to her and she was-" you sobbed, with tears escaping your eyes. "She was b-bleeding!" you continued. "She was bleeding so m-much and so I tried to make it s-stop" you said, breaking down.

"It’s okay" Spencer said, pulling you towards him.

"It wouldn't stop, S-Spence!" you said, looking at him and breaking everyone's heart. They all knew what you were feeling right now and they knew nothing they said would change your mind. "I tried! I really did" you said, looking back at Derek. "I'm so sorry!"

"You, come with me!" Hotchner said, pulling Derek with him.

"I'll see if they have an update" JJ said, walking away as well.

"Why don't we get some coffee for everyone?" Rossi said, pulling Emily with him and leaving you and Spencer alone, knowing if anyone would be able to calm you down, it would be him.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer" you said, as more tears kept coming down.

"No, this is not your fault" he said, softly. He felt his heart breaking with each tear that fell down your cheeks. In the time the team had known you, they had never seen you cry. Ever.

"B-but I could have done something more! I could have-"

"You did everything you could" Spencer assured you. "And Penelope is going to be okay" he tried to convince you. You nodded slightly as Spencer wiped away the remaining tears from your cheeks.

"Okay" you whispered.

After a couple of minutes, JJ came back, still without any news, and Rossi and Emily brought back coffee for everyone. JJ and Emily were sitting together on the chairs, Hotch and Rossi were still trying to get information on the case, Derek was sitting away from the group in complete silence, and you sat on the floor, with your back against the wall, gripping your cup tightly. Spencer soon joined you when he realized you were still crying.

"Hey-"

"I can't stop" you muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"I can't stop crying" you said, hitting your head lightly with the wall. "I keep replaying it in my mind" you explained. "I've heard gunshots thousands of times but, I can't stop hearing it" you told him, your hands trembling and he saw you were trying really hard to make them stop. "I keep seeing her lying on the floor- there was so much b-blood-" you said before breaking down again.

"Come here" he said, pulling you onto his lap. What surprised him, even more, was the way you automatically clung yourself onto him as tightly as you could.

"I can't lose her, Spence" you said, sobbing into his shoulder.

"You won't" he said, stroking your back softly with his hand. "It's going to be alright" he whispered, letting you cry on his shoulder and resting his head against yours.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Emily said, nudging JJ on her arm.

"I can't help but" she said, both of them with a bright smile on their faces, forgetting where they were. "They look adorable" she whispered.

"I have no idea how he managed to calm her down. I thought she was going to break down when Derek yelled at her" Emily said, still looking at the pair.

"I believe you owe me $50" David said to Hotch.

"That means nothing" Hotch insisted. "They've always been this close-"

"Oh, come on, Hotch! You need to admit defeat!"

"Agent Hotchner?" the doctor said, coming towards the group. Everyone stood up as quickly as they could. You never let go of Spencer's hand.

"The bullet went in her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen" he said and Spencer felt you tighten the squeeze on his hand. "She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries" he explained.

"So what are you saying?" JJ asked.

"One centimeter over and it would have torn right through her heart" he said as the entire group let out a sigh of relief simultaneously, "Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle" he explained. "Who rode in with her?"

"M-me" you said, nervously.

"Good job, kid" he said. "If it wasn't for you, she probably wouldn't have made it here" he explained. "She needs her rest but you can all see her in a while when she wakes up" he said.

"Thank you, doctor" Aaron said as he left, and then he turned back to the team.

"I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this" he ordered. "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up" he instructed.

"Sir, I can go with you-" you started.

"After she wakes up" he said. "Reid will drive you" he said and Spencer nodded.

"Yes, sir."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"She's up" JJ said after about thirty more minutes. "And asking for you" she said, looking your way. "Let's go" she told everyone and Morgan didn't need to be told twice. But you stood frozen in place.

"You okay?" Emily asked, looking at you.

"I can't go in there" you muttered.

"But she's asking for you" she tried to convince you.

"N-no" you said, nervously.

"Hey" Spencer said, grabbing your hand again. "Penelope wants to see you, And she's okay. She's awake and she's fine" he assured you.

"And it's thanks to you" Emily insisted.

"Y-you guys go" you said, trying to keep fresh tears from falling. "I just need a minute" you said. Emily walked towards the room, but Spencer stayed with you. "Please, Spence" you whispered. "I just need a minute" you insisted. Spencer nodded and kissed your temple before he walked into the room.

You stood by the door only hearing what they were talking about and Penelope asking everyone not to cry. You knew she would ask that which is why you couldn't go inside since apparently, you couldn't stop. She gave her report to the team and you felt sick to your stomach when you realized Penelope's date was the one who shot her. Emily and JJ came out after a while and JJ looked at you.

"She keeps asking for you" JJ insisted.

"You should go in there" Emily added.

"She asked us not to treat her like a victim" JJ warned. "This just doesn't make any sense" she said as the three of you tried to make sense of it all.

"I know, why would someone do this to Garcia?"

"I'm gonna call Hotch and tell him the updates" JJ said.

"I'll come with you" Emily told her. "You have to go in there before you go meet Hotch" she reminded you and you nodded.

You went back to look at the room where Derek and Spencer still stood, chatting with a still fuzzy Penelope.

"Good news, bad news" you heard Penelope's foggy voice. "The morphine's wearing off" she continued. "When I was in the ambulance, I could hear the song Heroes playing in my head" she giggled. "I kept flashing in and out of consciousness. Everything was really bright. And I remember thinking wait... Is David Bowie really God?" she asked making everyone in the room laugh.

"He is" you said, entering the room and making her laugh again.

"There she is, my sweet love" she said, reaching her hand out for you. "My knight in shining armor" she giggled.

"Hi, Penny Lane" you said, smiling as tears fell down your cheeks.

"I always knew you would one day save my life" she smiled brightly at you.

"I always told you I was better than these two" you replied, earning glances from Spencer and Derek.

"Hey!"

"Shut up! She is!" Penelope told them.

"I am so sorry, Pen-"

"No" Penelope interrupted you. "You saved my life" she told you. "You don't ever need to say sorry for anything ever! Not even to them! You have my absolute permission to do whatever you want to them and not apologize" she said earning the glare from the guys now.

"Hey!"

"I love you, my little sugar plum" she smiled at you.

"I love you too, Pen" you said, holding her hand. "And I promise you, we're going to find this asshole" you assured her.

After a while, they let her rest and Spencer was going to take you to meet Hotch and Rossi, but Derek held you back. With a warning glare from Reid, he pulled you away from him.

"Hey, kid-" he said, softly.

"It's okay, Derek" you smiled weakly at him.

"No. Is not" he insisted. "I had no right to speak to you the way I did and I'm sorry" he said. "I was just..." he sighed, looking back at Penelope.

"I know" you smiled, placing your hand on his arm. "I was too" you nodded before wrapping your arms around his waist and Derek hesitantly wrapped his around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, kid" he said with his voice breaking a little.

"I'm sorry too" you whispered.

"Hey" Derek said, pulling away and placing his hands around your face, wiping away your tears. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved her life" he reminded you. "Okay?" You nodded, trying your best to stop the tears from falling and Derek kissed your forehead. "Now let's go before pretty boy wants to kill me again" he said, making you laugh. "Don't think I didn't notice you two being all cuddly on the waiting room" he said, placing his arm around your shoulders and leading you back to the hallway.

"Shut up. We have an asshole to catch" you reminded him.

"I know. And I will kill him once we do. And then, we can go back to you and Reid making romantic faces at each other-"

"Shut up, Derek!"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I'm up!" you said, sitting up from the dining room table at the apartment you shared with Penelope. "What? What did I miss?"

"I said, you should get some sleep" Spencer repeated with a small chuckle.

It was the night Penelope came back home. The team had left for the night and Derek was helping Penelope get settled in. He hadn't left her side since the accident and Spencer hadn't left yours.

"I'm fine-"

"You’re not. You have not slept in about 48 hours-"

"Neither have you! I just need more coffee" you insisted, getting up to get another cup.

"I think we have reached the point where coffee is doing nothing to you" he said. "This isn’t up for discussion, you need to sleep-"

"I can't!" you snapped.

"Why not?" Spencer said, worried. "Penelope is going to be okay. She's home now. You saved her life-"

"I told her to go" you muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"On the date" you said, looking at Spencer. "She was hesitant about it and I told her to go on the date" you repeated. "I told her to take a chance and that- that... fucking shithead shot the person with the purest heart in the world and we can't find him, Spence-!"

"We will" Spencer insisted. "Listen to me, there's no way you could have known what would happen to Penelope" he said, wiping away your tears. "You just gave her an advice any best friend would" he smiled. "We will find him and he is going to pay for what he did to Garcia" he said, softly. "But you need to get some rest" he repeated. "Please?" he pouted and made you laugh a little.

"I'm sorry I keep crying in front of you" you laughed.

"I'm actually a bit honored" Spencer said, kissing the side of your head. "Come on" he said, getting up and pulling you with him.

"Spence-"

"Morgan and I are here. We are not leaving until this is done so you are going to get some rest" he instructed.

"Fine" you said, rolling your eyes. "Um... Spence?" you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed and looking everywhere but at him.

"Hmm?" he asked, at your door.

"Would you... s-stay here?"

"I'm already staying here-" he said, confused.

"No. Not... outside with Morgan" you added. "Here... with m-me?"

"Oh" he said, glad that it was dark and you couldn't see his cheeks blushing. "Sure, I can stay on the floor-"

"For God's sake, Spencer. Get on my bed!" you chuckled. "Is not like you haven't before" you reminded him whenever you two did movie marathons and he ended up staying the night.

"I know. I'm just letting Morgan get to my head" he said before he could stop himself.

"What? What did Morgan say?" you asked, now fully awake.

"Nothing?"

"Spencer!"

"It was nothing important" he assured you. "I just... don't want to make things awkward-"

"Why would they be awkward?" you asked and Spencer sighed. "Spence-?"

"I love you" he blurted out, making you sit up.

"Y-you- you love me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make things awkward I just... with what happened to Penelope, I don't want to wait any longer in telling you and you should know. I completely understand if you don't-"

"I love you too" you interrupted him.

"You do?"

"Spencer, I have loved you since I started working at the BAU" you admitted.

"So... you have loved me for two years, seven months, three days and... what, two hours?"

"Really?" you said, with a chuckle. "Well, to be quite exact, two years, seven months, three days, and about an hour and thirty minutes" you said. "I mean, I liked you since I saw you but you really made me love you in the first thirty minutes you talked to me" you smiled.

"Wasn't I doing a physics magic trick with JJ and Garcia?"

"Yes. Yes, you were" you laughed. "You were using an old camera roll container and it hit me on the head" you reminded him.

"I remember" he laughed as well. "I remember thinking there goes my chances to ever go out with that beautiful woman" he said.

"Well, look at that. You were wrong, Dr. Reid" you smiled.

"Was I?" he said, leaning closer to you. You only nodded before you closed the gap between them and crashed your lips against his. Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist deepening the kiss, both of them too distracted to hear your door opening.

"Hey, kid- whoa!" Morgan's voice was heard before he closed the door. "Dammit! Couldn't you wait one more week! Now I owe Rossi $50!"

"Shut up, Derek!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: ahhh xD I hope you liked it! :D

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot

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ssa-montgomery · 3 years

Text

I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Word Count: 2040

Summary: During a night out with the BAU Hotch can't hold in his feelings towards Emily anymore.

Characters: Hotch x Emily, JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Reid, Rossi

Warnings: Some angst and fighting, lots of yearning, fluff, declarations of love

A/N: Another Hotchniss fic! I actually had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I like to think that both Emily and Hotch are very stubborn when it comes to actually talking about their feelings and situations end like this for them far too often xD This fic was also requested on here so please do continue sending me prompts! I really appreciated the comments on my last Hotchniss fic and they motivated me to finish this one so please leave some comments and let me know what you're favourite part was :D

Prompts: "I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you." "I can't do this anymore." "It's scary what a smile can hide."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

The bar was busier than usual, all though for late on a Saturday evening it was to be expected. The team was working a rough case all week that thankfully ended well and had just arrived back in Quantico when Rossi suggested they head to the bar and let him buy them all drinks to celebrate. They quickly accepted, never turning down a free drink and headed out for the night. A few hours and plenty of rounds had passed by now. The tables around them were packed full of people and the noise of the conversations and the loud music playing all around them meant they had to shout to be heard but nobody seemed to mind. They'd lost track of the last time they got to spend time all together like this and it was a well needed night out.

While they all started the night sitting around one table the team had slowly been separating out across the bar. Morgan was now standing by the pool tables near the bar with his arm wrapped around the waist of an attractive blonde as he leaned in to be heard over the music, teaching her how to play pool with him. Reid who followed after him seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the men at the next table over, they had seemingly found a topic they were both passionate about as they ignored everything else around them in favour of their rant. Back at the main table, the team had fallen into a casual conversation, Rossi and Hotch talking together while Garcia filled JJ and Emily in on all the gossip they had missed at the office while they were away on the case.

Garcia suddenly stopped mid-rant and tilted her curiously, watching something over Emily's shoulder. She tapped JJ's arm and without exchanging a single word she knew exactly what she was talking about, simply nodding her head as a reply when Garcia turned to meet her gaze.

"What the hell are you two looking at?" Emily asked, furrowing her brow in confusion as she turned to look over her shoulder herself. She couldn't see anything out of place that they could have been staring at.

"That guy at the bar, uh the brunette with the dark shirt?" Garcia tried her best to gesture towards him as subtly as she could without giving away that the whole group was now staring over at him. "He's been staring over at you all night. I mean I can practically feel the yearning from here. You should go talk to him!"

"Oh." Emily hesitated and then shook her head nervously. She stared down at her glass, twisting it in her hand as she considered the idea. This had become a regular thing for them. JJ or Garcia would spot a cute guy and then convince Emily to go talk to him while she hid the truth about who she really wanted to talk to. "I don't know, is that really a good idea?"

"Um yes? Come on how many times have I told you it's time for you to get back out there Emily." JJ encouraged smiling widely at her. Before making any decision Emily glanced around the table waiting to see if anyone would object to the idea. Hoping he would. When everyone else remained silent Emily could feel that all too familiar sinking in her stomach. She pushed it down and tried to ignore it, putting on a bright smile instead.

"Oh okay screw it! What's the worst that can happen right?" Emily laughed doing exactly what she did best, hiding her disappointment. She lifted her glass and took another drink before standing up out of her seat and starting to walk towards the bar. JJ and Garcia watched on closely, leaning in to whisper together about how they thought it would work out. Even Morgan seemed to notice what was happening back at the table and he shot Emily a supportive grin as his form of encouragement from where he was standing.

It seemed the whole team was on board with setting Emily up with this mystery man as she sat down and started talking to him. Well, everyone but Hotch. He stared forward so no one caught onto the tightness in his chest with every second that she spent laughing with someone else. It all came to a breaking point when the man took her hand in his and leaned forward, kissing her gently. Hotch had to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him then, not being able to take anymore. Part of him wanted to tell him to get his hands off of her, and the other part knew it wasn't his place. It was selfish, he knew that, but he couldn't stand to see Emily with someone that wasn't him. Then again it was his fault when he could never find the courage to tell her how he felt about her. Maybe if he could, things would be different and loving her wouldn't hurt so much.

While everyone else was still distracted by what was happening and he was sure they wouldn't notice him leaving he stood up and grabbed his coat from the bar of his chair. He quietly slipped away from the group and pushed his way through the crowds towards the back exit of the bar. It was cold as he stepped out into the biting late-night air and he pulled his coat on before continuing across the parking lot. He knew he should've told someone before he left - they always did, a safety precaution with their job - but at that moment all he wanted to do was find a cab and get home as quickly as he could. He was halfway to the street when he heard the sound of the heavy exit door swinging open behind him. He ignored it at first, presuming it was just another person leaving after him but then.

"Hotch?"

For a second he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, that his mind had been so consumed by her tonight that he was starting to hear things but when he finally turned around it was in fact Emily walking towards him. She was tugging her jacket closer to her body in an attempt to fight off the cold as she watched him curiously.

"Why'd you leave?" She asked, her voice almost sad.

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, ready to fire off some lame excuse as to why he needed to get out of there as quickly as he did, he was sure he could come up with a convincing lie like he had a hundred times before but instead he just sighed. He dropped his head in defeat and ran his hand across the back of his neck.

"I can't do this anymore." Was all he managed to get out, his tiredness at this whole situation obvious in his voice. He couldn't stand around and lie to Emily's face anymore. He turned around again and started to walk towards the street.

"Hotch!" Emily called out as she ran to catch up with him. He could hear the sound of her heels on the ground and he wished she would just go back inside. If she started to push him, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in anymore and it had been building for too long. He spun around to face her when she grasped at his arm to stop him in his tracks. "What is going on with you?"

"What's going on with me? Are you kidding me, Emily?" Hotch snapped with more aggression than he'd meant to, but it was too late now, the dam was finally burst and whether he liked it or not the truth was finally coming out. Emily's hand fell from his arm then and she stood back staring at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "What's going on with me is that no matter where I go I have to stand back and watch JJ and Garcia fawning over the idea of setting you up with every guy they see. What's going on is that I have to sit there and bite my tongue while I act like it doesn't bother me. I have to act like it doesn't physically hurt to see you kissing them because if I react then I'm unprofessional and I mean what does it matter anyway because you don't give a damn what I think about it so it's not my place to say anything anyway. I have to act like it's not eating me up inside."

Hotch stopped then, feeling his heart hammering in his chest and the sudden realisation of what he just said settling in. He started to panic, afraid that Emily would push him away and that he'd just ruined what relationship he already had with her. He wanted to apologise, to take it all back but he couldn't now. Emily laughed then. It was a short, sarcastic sound, more of a scoff than anything else.

"Wow. Seriously Hotch? Are you genuinely so oblivious that you think I don't care? I care! Of course, I care! I always have." It seemed it was Emily's turn to let out everything she had been holding back as she launched into a rant of her own, her voice slowly rising in volume as she did. "I flirt with those guys, I let them set me up to keep them happy, to keep them off my back about the real reason I haven't dated anyone in months. Tonight when they were encouraging me to go talk to that guy I looked around that table because I wanted you to stop me, I wanted you to give me a reason to think you cared enough to stop me. Instead, all I got was that blank expression that told me that you didn't care. Do you want to know why I kiss have of them? Why I kissed that guy tonight? Because they remind me of you. Because it's you I want to kiss but I can't and I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you."

"But-" Hotch trailed off then, as the weight of Emily's words settled over him. All this time, she had cared after all. All this time they had both been silently suffering because neither one was brave enough to admit the truth about their feelings. It felt silly now, all the excuses he'd told himself about why he couldn't just admit his feelings to Emily. He'd always believed she didn't want him and now he knew how wrong he was. "You always seemed so happy with them. Smiling and laughing the whole time."

"It's scary what a smile can hide," Emily admitted weakly, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It was never real with them, they could never really make me laugh, not the way you can."

That was all it took for Hotch to finally surge and pull Emily up into a fierce kiss. He cupped her cheek, letting his other arm wrap around her waist pulling her in closer to his chest as his lips slid over hers. Emily seemed stunned for a moment but then she responded just as passionately, wrapping her arms around Hotch's neck. Neither of them ever thought they'd get to this moment but here they were, standing in the middle of the parking lot wrapped up in each other's arms as they kissed. They didn't care that at any moment another member of the team could walk outside or that it was still freezing outside. All they cared about was that moment.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long to do that." Hotch laughed gently, brushing Emily's hair out of her face as he slowly pulled away from the kiss.

"Me either." Emily giggled, letting her forehead rest against his. She could feel his breath fanning over her lips and she wanted to kiss him again, she wanted to kiss him forever now that she finally could. "Does this mean you're finally going to take me to dinner?"

"Yes." Hotch nodded smiling down at her. "Absolutely."

Tag list: @marauder-level-chaos

#criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #hotch #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fic #hotchniss fanfic

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shadowdianne · 3 years

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Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

#taggie thingie #this was a monster

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belliesandburps · 3 years

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Moriarty the Patriot Dub Cast Announced

Sooooo literally as I was in the middle of sharing my dreamcast with @twistedtummies2 for the dub cast of MtP, they freakin’ announce the actual cast!

William James Moriarty - Aaron Dismuke (Tamaki & FMA OG Alphonse)

Albert James Moriarty - Chris Guerrero (Moria in One Piece)

Louis James Moriarty - Howard Wang

Sherlock Holmes - Theo Devaney

Dr. John H. Watson - Ryan Colt Levy (Loki in that new anime)

Sebastian Moran - Christopher Wehkamp (Aizawa in MHA Dub)

Fred Porlock - Caleb Yen

Miss Hudson - Suzie Yeung

Mycroft Holmes - J Michael Tatum (Scar in Brotherhood / Iida in MHA Dub)

Inspector George Lestrade - David Matranga (Todoroki in MHA Dub)

Albert (Young) - Chris Guerrero

Earl of Argleton - Barry Yandell

Countess Moriarty - Nicole Hodges

Earl Moriarty - Robert McCollum

Eden - Anthony DiMascio

El - Matt Shipman

Louis (Young) - Laura Stahl

Madame Penieres - Alexis Tipton

Narrator - Anthony Skordi

Richard - Phil Parsons

Roddy - Kevin Thelwell

Simon - Gregory Lush

William (Real) - Luci Christian (Uraraka in MHA Dub)

William (Young) - Emily Neves (Eri in MHA Dub)

https://www.funimation.com/blog/2021/08/13/moriarty-the-patriot-english-dub-announced-cast-crew-revealed/

I’m familiar with MOST of these actors. Of the ones I’m familiar with, I can safely say many of them would be really really good picks. The question is, will they do British accents or what, because the only actual British actor here is the voice of Sherlock, who I’ve never heard of til now. XD

Funny enough, I had many of these names on my dream cast, just swapped around. I had J Michael Tatum as Lestrade. Aaron Dismuke as Louis. David Matranga as Milverton. And Ryan Colt Levy as Herder.

Welp, consider me VERY curious to see how the cast does!

#moriarty the patriot #dub #cast announcement #voice acting

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azurethevampire · 3 years

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I Will Give You A Reason

A/N: Set in season 6, episodes 2-3 (I think at least it was those episodes xD) This piece is quite angst-filled one, so prepare yourself with tissues if you have to. If there is any mistakes to the few words/sentences of Swedish used in this, they are entirely my own as that isn't my strongest foreign language and I didn't use a translator. Also this was written about a year ago when I watched True Blood for the first time.

Fandom: True Blood

Summary: Emily and Pam have searched for Eric across the world. When they finally find the 1,000 years old viking vampire from France Emily's already shattered world seems to turn into dust: Eric, her rock, her best friend, the only father she's ever had, is sick.

Characters: Eric Northman, Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, Emily Northman (oc)

Words: 2736

•-•-•-•-•

"Pam, you have to eat."

You don't look like yourself, she wanted to add but stopped herself just in time. The vampire had been snappier for a few days now and Emily didn't want to make her mad at her. Not that she believed that Pam would really hurt her, even in anger. She had never done so after that one time and that had been when Emily was six and she hadn't known when to keep her mouth shut.

Well, maybe she still didn't know when to keep her mouth shut —but she was better than ten years ago!

Pam turned to look at the teenager—No. The young woman, that Emily had blossomed into in the last months despite that the world seemed to grow shittier every fucking day. Perhaps that was the reason why. Emily had lost that soft roundness on her face and her eyes were tired, dark bags under her eyes. Her clothes hung on her, and Pam, for a brief moment, wondered when was the last time the human herself had eaten.

"I'm not hungry."

Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead, she sat down on the only chair in the motel room they were in. "Snälla, Pam. You could at least stop lying to me about it - I'm not blind!"

Pam was about to snap something back, but instead, her hand reached the doorknob. But before she left the room she turned to face Emily again. "If I can't find anything tonight, I'll feed on you tomorrow, I promise. Stay here, don't open the door to anyone and don't invite anyone in."

Emily let Pam say those words the vampire had said every night although the girl is tired of hearing them night after night. But it seemed to help Pam, to get to remind her of those small yet so trivial rules. So Emily's "I know" echoed in the empty vampire-friendly motel room after Pam had left and closed the door behind her.

Her eyes spotted the room key left on the small cracked table near the door. In the first months of their search, Pam locked Emily in but lately, the vampire had not taken the keys with her at all.

And because of that Emily knew that Pam was starting to become suicidal in their search for Eric.

•-•-•-•-•

“I think I found him.”

Pam has never - as far as Emily’s memory goes back - sounded more… excited? Happy? No, that is not the right word and she knew that. Pam’s voice was flat, she tried to hide the hope that had filled her but Emily felt it. It radiated off Eric’s first progeny and she couldn’t help it; for the first time in months, Emily dared to let herself hope too.

But there was something else she sensed from Pam. She was sad too, and that made the girl swallow. “But?” When did my voice start to sound so weak? So small?

Pam’s next words killed something inside of her.

“Tara is dead. I felt it.”

What felt like minutes passed and Emily couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move from her spot. Pam was still but there was no denying the glint in her eyes. Emily and Pam had never been the type to coddle each other. Never.

Still, Emily raised up in her bed anyway, took the few short steps it took to reach the vampire, who had been her only family for six months now, and she wrapped her arms around her, swallowing and blinking back the tears she felt coming.

“I’m so sorry, Pam.”

And Pam - beautiful, bad-ass, smart Pam - returned the young woman’s embrace, letting bloody tears run freely, staining Emily’s shirt with red.

•-•-•-•-•

The plane landed in France the same evening - Pam in a coffin in the cargo hold.

They flew to the villa in France. Pam had told Emily that she and Eric used to live here before they were forced to go to Shreveport.

She could see why the two vampires had chosen this place to reside in — even in the night, the garden surrounding the sand-coloured walls of the large building was breathtakingly beautiful.

Emily had more pressing matters though than to watch the sights. She could feel him. First time in over six months, Emily felt Eric. That familiar flare that had so long been gone from inside her, burned again. No. Not completely familiar. There was no doubt that the vampire she felt was indeed Eric Northman. But his life force, which had always been so strong… it cracked. Like old dry cement.

Something is wrong, Emily thought as she followed Pam inside, to a spiral staircase going down, down, down.

Emily swallowed. She had a bad feeling. Very bad feeling - and god, she wished she was wrong. She begged to be wrong. That there was simply something wrong with her own powers, and not something wrong with her Eric.

Wishful thinking, foolish thinking, she knew. Knew because she had felt this same feeling before over the past months - recently more often than she would have wanted to.

Emily and Pam started to make their way down the stairs, and Emily - her chest tightened in pain.

Two youngish and beautiful women met the vampire and the empath on the stairs. One of them said something in French. Emily couldn't understand, she had never bothered learning French. Maybe sometime during 'forever' — she had used to think that. Not anymore, not for a long time now.

She didn't know what the French woman said but she did feel their emotions. Confusion. Betrayal. Hurt. Confusion.

The final round of the spiral and Pam and Emily saw the room.

As soon as Emily's eyes fell on him, she felt her heart tighten. She had thought she had felt pain last night when Tara died the true death. She had been wrong.

Nothing she had ever felt compared to the heart-wrenching, punch-in-the-gut pain that crashed over her like a hurricane when the dark veins creeping up her guardian's chest, the meaning of them, finally hit her.

And even though her legs felt like boiled spaghetti, Emily forced herself to step closer to Eric. Eric who was sick. He can't be! He's Eric for fuck's sake! But he could be, and he was. "No" pushed through her lips, past the lump in her throat, the word sounding broken.

And Eric.

Eric Northman's eyes switched from his first progeny to his human equivalent to a daughter. "You found me."

“How long?” Pam asked the question that burned on Emily’s mind too. It seemed that Eric was still in the first stage of the Hep-V virus but she knew that that didn’t mean anything. Not because she didn’t know how long Eric had been sick. He could have months left with proper blood sources but then again, if the disease got worse, he could only have days.

The tall blonde vampire didn’t answer, not right away. He almost looked like he was about to fall asleep. Hot tears began to blind the teenager’s vision as she grabbed his hand in hers. His hand had always been cold. Cooling touch relieving to Emily. Eric’s hand was warm now. This is wrong! Emily’s mind screamed at her.

“Eric?”

“Can you repeat the question?”

And those words that seemed so meaningless, so genuinely apologetic, were the words that sent Emily’s tears falling from her eyes.

“How long have you been sick?” And Emily heard in Pam’s voice that she was crying too.

“Saw the first signs last month”, Eric said and not once in the time Emily had known Eric had he sounded so weak. So tired.

“When you were in St. Petersburg”, Emily heard herself say. She and Pam had tracked Eric there - Pam cursing all of the time they were in Russia, how she hated the Russians with her gut.

Something flickered in Eric’s blue, tired eyes. And even though faint, Emily felt the emotion: surprise. And even if the situation they are in, is fucked beyond belief, the young woman of seventeen found herself smiling, just the tiniest bit. Because one didn’t sneak up on Eric Northman that easily.

“Don’t act all surprised”, Pam said behind Emily. “We searched the whole fucking planet for you - St. fucking Petersburg, Eric? You know how I hate the Russian people.”

“Well, I didn’t know you two were gonna come looking for me”, Eric said, eyes moving to Emily whose eyes squinted slightly.

“Then you were an idiot”, Emily said in Swedish. Another small wave of surprise from Eric. Emily continued. “Why did you keep moving then?”

“Yes, I want to know the answer to that as well”, Pam said crossing her arms.

Eric chuckled, although it awfully sounds like a mix of a chuckle and a cough. Too rough, Emily thought.

“Congratulations, Pam, Emmy-”, and Emily’s eyes were burning with unshed tears again because it had been so long that she had heard that nickname from Eric. “You have outwitted me.” His hand raised to touch Emily’s cheek. “But only because I’m not well.”

Pam told about Tara, but to Emily’s confusion, Eric didn’t offer words of comfort, didn’t say he was sorry to hear that. Instead, he asked about a stupid bucket game he played in Marocco - the same game Pam had played last night to get the information of Eric’s location.

“Oh… I liked the bucket game.”

And Pam was about to snap, she already took steps forward, but Emily beat the vampire to it.

“What is wrong with you?! You are Eric fucking Northman!” her hands balled to fists, the tears in her eyes no longer coming out of sadness, but anger. “You don’t give up. You fight!”

“Fight’s over, Emily.”

“This can’t all be about Sylvie.”

Emily didn’t know who Sylvie was. But she knew that Eric giving up like this couldn’t be just because of one person.

“Godric”, Eric stated. “Nora.” Emily felt a tug of pain in her chest, partly her own, partly the vampire’s whose hand she still held in hers. “And yes, Sylvie too.”

And Pam’s next question made Emily’s heart skip a beat, two beats. Because she had never, even in her wildest worst-case scenarios, thought about that. Not until Pam put that idea in her head when she asked: “Did you contract the virus on purpose?”

Eric wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do something so… he wouldn’t! but despite her thoughts, Emily couldn’t have said why she was suddenly so afraid of his answer.

“On purpose? No-” Eric said, shaking his head a little, and Emily felt a relieved breath leave her. “But did I go about my dealings with a devil-may-care attitude? Absolutely.”

“Damn you!” Emily snapped, but then she burst into tears. She was exhausted - she hadn’t slept since Marocco and even there it was just a few hours -, and the only thing that had kept her from having a break-down had been hope. Hope that she would see Eric again soon. But this reunion had not been the relief she had waited for. She was glad to see him again, but a small part of her wished they never would have found him.

Because now, she was afraid. More afraid than she had ever been in her entire life - and that was saying something after the torture Edgington had put her through two years ago.

Eric tried to reach for the girl, but Emily turned away, scooting back in the chair so she sat by his legs. She pulled her knees up, hugged herself tightly and buried her face in her knees as sobs racked her whole body. She was barely aware that Pam had sat on Eric’s other side, trying to reason with him.

“Don’t do this to us”, Emily heard Pam start sobbing and she turned her head, just enough that she could see Eric and her again - and she didn’t want to. She really didn’t but she still reached out with her hand, and her fingers - still so small and slim in comparison - wrapped around Eric’s large hand the best they could. “Please, Eric…”, Emily sobbed, too.

“God damn you!” Pam cursed.

“For more than 1,000 years, the world has been my oyster”, Eric said.

“And it still can be”, Pam argued. “I’ll do anything.” Emily squeezed Eric’s hand. Me too. I would do anything for you. She wanted to say but the words refused to leave her.

“I’ve lost my taste for oysters, Pam.”

“Then find it again.” Emily’s voice came out harsher than she intended and she gained Eric and Pam’s attention. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she uncurled herself from her position. “Du lovade mig”, Emily said in Swedish, desperately, and her voice was thick with emotion.

Something in Eric’s eyes shifted. Turned softer and sad. “I know I did, sweetheart, but the world has changed since then.” He grabbed Emily’s wrist and pulled her towards him - and even sick, Emily found out that Eric was still so much stronger than she was. She was only human after all - even if it was with a little something extra. Eric’s feelings were clear and honest at his next words as his hand rested on the side of Emily’s face, thumb lightly brushing away her tears.

“My sweet little Emily”, Eric whispered, his lips forming a quick smile, sad and warm at the same time. “You are gonna go out there. You are gonna grow up to be a beautiful, smart woman, go to some stupid fucking university and find yourself a good, loving human husband. You’re going to have kids and you will tell them stories about their 1,000 years old vampire grandfather… and you will be happy… Do you understand?”

Emily swallowed, her hand raising on top of Eric’s now-wrong-temperature hand. She only barely managed to croak out the tiniest of “yes”. Even though she knew she would not do any of that.

“You should go. Both of you.”

Pam was crying but she was the first to rise from beside Eric and start to walk towards the staircase.

This is wrong! Emily’s mind screamed as she rose. Virus or no virus Eric was not just any other vampire - he was Eric! 1,000 years old vampire and a viking! Vikings had not just sat down and waited for death to come collect them! At least Emily didn’t think so. No. Vikings, they avenged. Just like Eric had avenged his human family only seven or so months ago.

As his last act… Emily felt no guilt of thinking about this at that moment, no guilt about throwing someone else’s life to a path to death - as far as she was concerned the other person deserved it.

As his last act before true death, Eric Northman could take revenge against the person who did this to him.

“Sarah Newlin”, Emily said, turning back to face Eric again. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Pam turn on her heels a glint of surprise and (oh that traitorous) hope in her eyes.

“What about her?” Eric asked, his eyes closed.

“What if I told you that Jason Stackhouse let her live.”

Eric’s eyes opened, his voice hardened. “He didn’t.”

“He did”, Pam said, catching on to Emily’s plan. “And she’s out there.”

“Where?”

“No one’s seen her”, Emily said.

“I have to imagine she’s in hiding somewhere”, Pam offered.

Emily saw Eric’s jaw clench. Then… then, with what seemed like a heavy effort, Eric pushed himself up in the chair and slowly, slower than Emily was used to seeing the vampire’s motions - Eric Northman stood in front of her, grasping her shoulder, as his eyes once again roamed between his girls.

“Well, let’s go find her.”

Emily wasn’t naive. She knew that Eric was still dying, but at least now he wouldn’t just sit down here and wait for it. He would go down fighting.

Just like he had taught her was the right way to go.

Just like the viking he was supposed to be - just like Eric fucking Northman was supposed to fight.

So, yes, Eric was still dying but at least now - and maybe it was selfish to think that way, but Emily didn’t find it in herself to care - Emily had a few more days to spend with the man who had taken her in as if she was his progeny instead of some orphan human child with empath powers.

#true blood #true blood fic #eric northman #pamela swynford de beaufort #oc #eric northman fic #my writing #my fic #true blood oc #oc: emily northman #angst fic

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fleetofshippyships · 3 years

Note

For the prompts please: "I needed you and you left me" or "why are you doing this?" For Jiang Cheng/whoever, or whatever pairing you want

This is really only getting posted cos Emily told me to post it XD so yell at her about the ending not me, thanks.

Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji but mostly Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng angst tbh Lan Xichen pov.

OPEN UNRESOLVED ENDING, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

(AO3 LINK)

“I think it’s time you retired for the night, Wei-gongzi,” Lan Xichen said as gently as he could.

Wangji had long since begun hovering at Wei Wuxian’s shoulder in a more silent suggestion of the same, since Jiang Cheng’s face had first reddened from the wine and the tenuous peace of the dinner had begun to shatter from increasingly antagonistic comments.

Lan Xichen had warned Jiang Cheng off serving wine, knowing too well that he became increasingly emotional in proportion to how much he consumed. The addition of Wei Wuxian’s presence...it had been too easy to guess how dinner would turn out.

Things were better between the two brothers, but there were still so many things unsaid between them.

If the tremors in Jiang Cheng’s hand and the glisten to his eyes were any indication, some of those things might be voiced soon, very much against his wishes, as they had been said to Lan Xichen under the influence of too much wine far too early into their courtship, and then immediately regretted, almost shattering the growing bond between them.

If Lan Xichen could spare Jiang Cheng the pain of revealing too much of his deep hurt again, and to the one person he was so adamant never know of it, then he would do all he could.

In an act of desperation not to shame Jiang Cheng too much, he met Wangji’s eye and tried to express how serious he was in his suggestion.

“I agree,” Wangji said, finally breaking his silence on the matter and gripping Wei Wuxian’s upper arm firmly. He didn’t tug, but the touch was enough to convey his seriousness, and Wei Wuxian rose unsteadily to his feet.

Lan Xichen envied them sometimes, the ease with which they communicated. Things were not so easy between he and Jiang Cheng, though he would still have the man as he was rather than seek to change him just to make things a little easier between them.

“There you go again,” Jiang Cheng scoffed, gesturing roughly at the pair as they stepped back from the table.

Lan Xichen’s spirits sunk even lower as he realised which deep pain would be voiced.

“It is late, we should all retire,” he said, resting a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder even knowing full well by the set of his jaw that he had gone too far in his thoughts and pain to turn back now.

It had long been Lan Xichen’s way to be looser with the rules of his sect, but it was times like these that he believed their abstinence from alcohol was not unreasonable.

“Again?” Wei Wuxian asked, turning unsteadily to face Jiang Cheng, his eyes narrowing, probably assuming something entirely incorrect about the meaning of his words.

“Wei Ying,” Wangji said softly, reproachfully.

Wangji was quick to speak rudely to Jiang Cheng himself, if masked by the politest of phrasings, but he was just as quick to try and stop Wei Wuxian doing the same.

Lan Xichen admired the respect he held for Wei Wuxian’s love for Jiang Cheng even while loathing the man himself. But it was not enough.

Jiang Cheng snorted loudly and gestured at Wangji. “Running off with him at the merest glance from him.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression darkened and Lan Xichen bit back a groan.

There would be no saving them from what was coming. Wei Wuxian was admirably tolerant of Jiang Cheng’s insults and slights, sometimes even appearing to enjoy them, but at the merest suggestion of criticism towards Wangji and he bit back with force and no trace of humour.

Wangji shared with Lan Xichen a concerned but resigned expression, knowing this well himself, while Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng became blind to all but each other.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Wei Wuxian snapped. “I should ignore my husband?”

Jiang Cheng slammed the table, rattling everything on it and casting the room in a purple light as Zidian sparked on his finger.

“Should you ignore the Jiang Sect? Should you abandon the sect that took you in and raised you the moment you get a glance from him? From the Wens?”

Lan Xichen winced. He’d heard this before, he knew what came next. Not just the words, but the tears, the clinging hands. Behaviour that would horrify Jiang Cheng come morning, and cause him to disappear for days from shame and anger.

A desire to intervene and save Jiang Cheng that pain still lingered within him, but perhaps it was time. Their every attempt to socialise, particularly with wine present, resulted in a fight, and even if he or Wangji separated them before it got to this point, it was inevitable they reached it one day.

Wei Wuxian strode forward to meet Jiang Cheng as he rose.

“Should I abandon what is right and good just to satisfy you, Jiang Wanyin?” Wei Wuxian snapped. “Should I abandon people in need just for your pride?”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes as if it could block out the expression on Jiang Cheng’s face, like he didn’t see it in his mind anyway. A rustle of fabric told him Wangji had moved closer to Wei Wuxian, as if to shield him, as he always did, even though it always made Jiang Cheng’s jealousy and pain worse. He opened his eyes to see Wangji had at least stayed behind Wei Wuxian and not placed himself between them.

“I needed you!” Jiang Cheng shouted, shoving Wei Wuxian only to drag him back by a fistful of his collar. “I needed you and you left me!”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Wei Wuxian, and then silence. It would soon be broken by sobs, if the overflowing wetness of Jiang Cheng’s eyes was any indication.

The brothers were locked in a matching gazes of pain and sorrow.

Lan Xichen moved silently to Wangji’s side and touched his shoulder. This was not a conversation for their ears, even if he knew all the things Jiang Cheng would say, and Wangji likely knew all that Wei Wuxian would say.

Wangji must have felt the same, though his movements as they left the room were stiff and full of hesitation, blatantly unwilling to leave Wei Wuxian alone with Jiang Cheng even though he did still leave.

As much as Lan Xichen wished to be there for Jiang Cheng as well, to see this one facet of his pain resolved, it was not his place.

#mxtx #mdzs #wangxian #xicheng #wwx #jc #yunmeng bros #my fanfic #*#this was gonna go in the fic graveyard but Emily liked it so it got saved #ylime94 #asked and answered

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xxrainstormxx · 4 years

Text

Birthday Gift. Spencer Reid x Reader (Smut)

(A/N: So I've found out Spencer content gets the most attention and hes my favorite so there is no problem here. And no one is making requests. So I'm doing my best. Maybe I should stick to Spencer XD. Anyway. 10 year age gap. Hope you don't mind. Anyway it’s Spencer’s 30th birthday. in this story. Send in some requests!) Word count: 3,000

Spencer was watching (Y/N), they were drinking with Emily and laughing at stupid things. He had been in love with (Y/N) for years. They were a writer who was now working at the BAU as an agent now. He had always found it endearing how they managed to keep writing books while also doing their work as an agent. 'How is someone so stunning, smart, and funny at the same time?' He thought to himself. (Y/N) giggled and walked over sitting in front of him "Earth to Spencer Reid~" They teased as they waved their hand in front of his face. He blushed realizing he'd been staring, and the loud music rushed back into his ears as he was sucked from his thoughts back to reality. The bar, it was a club but he was now 30 and didn't want to admit that, was loud and the music was the absolute worst thing he'd heard. "You good wonder boy?" they asked smiling slightly worried. "Oh yeah!" he called loudly, the music nearly drowning out his gruff voice. They just giggled and nodded "Not my setting" he finished his statement with a chuckle. "Would never have guess" They grinned tauntingly. The playful leer was enough to make his heart melt. Romance was never Spencer's strong point, but for (Y/N), he made a special exception. There were just ways they made him feel human, he didn't like to admit how the others treated him like some alien. "You seem like the introverted type" They smiled "Skipping, what... basically ten years of school does that." they hummed. "did you know that school is actually designed for extroverts along with basically being outdated in the sense of its teaching you how to work for a factory?" he hummed happily "Spence, wonderboy, baaaaaaaby!" they called with a giggle "I love ya facts normally, but I am just a little to drunk to really process what you are saying!" The 24 year old giggled. "Its your birthday, and I respect ya! I do, but everyone is drinking way too much" They giggled.

"Right. That's the reason you don't wanna listen" He laughed softly. He didn't mind usually being told to stop spewing facts as long as it was (Y/N) telling him. It was a specially thing they had where it wasn't disrespectful or out of annoyance. It was because they genuinely appreciated what he said and just wanted to understand it better. So he had no reason to not listen to them, their relationship was really a wonderful thing and he cherished it. "You know i love you and your facts!" they squealed leaning on him. "Oh I know" he laughed gently kissing their forehead softly, the mostly platonic kiss was always a thing between them. The team always thought of it like a quote "father, child" thing but that just hurt his feelings. The thought that he really never had a chance because he was "too old" for the only person that really understood him. Age gaps were always controversial especially since they saw the grossest of age gaps between an adult and literal children. It made zero sense in his mind as to why they didn't like it, there were much worse things it could be an he certainly wasn't old enough to be her dad. Maybe it was his own fucked up justification for the way he felt but (Y/N) certainly didn't look like a child nor act like one. They had a mature figure, one that if they bent over at just the right angle over a desk, or pouring over a file, or even interrogating he felt he would just about die. They dressed in a very professional way despite their young age just as he had at the same age. They took themselves seriously but also knew when to call it quits or make fun of themselves. They were a perfect blend of human. He stared at their lips, wondering how soft they really were, and questioning why they used a chapstick that gave off such a strong scent that reminded him of sugar, and he wondered if it had a taste, like cherry, or plum. He wondered if he could make their voice crack as he drew circles on their body with his fingers only to touch what really mattered. He wondered if he could make their perfect mouth cry out his name in pure ecstasy how sweet they would feel clenched around his- "-SPENCER!" they squealed laughing "you've been staring into space for at least 7 fuckin minutes" they snorted tapping his nose softly making him blush. "You okay Dr." they asked affectionately. "y-Yeah course I am" he whispered, it wasn't exactly good for their location but they seemed to understand, but he wasn't okay. He was hard, and uncomfortable. He was thankful that the bar could hide it well enough, because the jeans he wore for the sake of his party weren't doing any favors to hide his friend. "You sure? You seem a little uncomfortable" they commented leaning towards him.

He could practically feel their shaky drunk breath on his neck and god that didn't help. Their body was stunning in the outfit they had chosen, a simple black top with waist high black skinny jeans and dark green and blue painted combat boots. their body retained its beautiful shape clothes taking the shape of them. They way they stared at him brought back all the thought, making him wonder what their hair would look like as he splayed them out on his bed making them bounce and beg for more and more of him. The doctor was seen as no innocent the idea of him having these thoughts was only a fake concept to them. "Just fine. Bar seats aren't the best to sit on" he laughed softly "Then lets dance!" (Y/N) grinned grabbing his hand pulling him out of seat. The music had changed thanks to Emily practically begging to slow dance with the date she had brought. The idea of being so close thrilled Spencer normally but his current situation made it actually impossible to comprehend and made the anxiety of the situation overwhelming. They giggled "I-I'm really not in the mood to dance." he squeaked out "it'll be fun- come o- OH!" they squeaked after pushing close to him to dance they realized just why he was so flustered and uncomfortable. What caught him by surprise, was they didn't pull away. "S-sorry- I tried to be subtle, b-but y-you.... you uh..." he sighed "I just.... need the uh... space to get rid of it.... and if you want to we c-can dance after" He muttered flustered, but (Y/N) didn't move. "(Y/N), are you okay? Y-you haven't moved." he squeaked again as they pushed as closed "Act natural. You don't want the rest of the team knowing do you. If you walk away suddenly they'll know" they said softly swaying with him to the music. He shivered wiggling "you c-can't... shift like that." he gasped quietly "it's..." he mewled quietly turning red. They could have left they didn't have to be so close, they didn't have to touch him, wait, they were touching him, like, hand in the pants, touching! "Bathroom" they whispered in his ear before leaving him literally wanting. He followed after a few moments of shock. This was all very new, he'd only ever masturbated but now he was going to straight to sex in public. Holy shit. He walked in confused hearing the door behind him and lock. He turned only to be pushed against the outside of the stall. "I checked, no one is in here" (Y/N) said quietly getting onto their knees. "w-wh-why?" he yelped quietly "What do you mean?" they asked working his belt glancing up to him. "Why a-are you do-doing this for me?" he stuttered "I want to? duh." they giggled and kissed the top of his pelvis. "N-no, why...?" he panted nearly throwing his head back in anticipation. "Do I need to spell out the fact that I like you?" they purred tugging down his pants "I... I like you too." he whispered pulling them to their feet. "What are you-" they squeaked before Spencer pulled them close into a kiss. Both of them had wanted this for way too long, and so the sweet innocent kiss quickly escalated into a tangled mess of limbs, grabbing, and panting. "Lets go to my apartment, I don't want to do this here." he whispered "I've pictured you too many times to not do this right." he growled kissing down their neck as they mewled "Got it. Thi-think the others will noticed?" (Y/N) questioned before gasping as they were grabbed and slowly rubbed "Do you want to really think about them now?" he whispered nipping their ear softly "god no. I'll meet you there" they whispered pulling back and left to quickly go. Spencer swiftly heeded telling all his friends he was tired. Thankfully they hadn't connected his need to leave to (Y/N)'s and he was gone.

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I somehow arrived after Spencer, probably because he didn't have alcohol in his system. I wasn't exactly drunk, just buzzed, but I needed to be careful still. Getting pulled over was no ideal. I made my way up to his floor quickly, Spencer liked me, he liked me and that was enough for me. He had even kissed me, age gap... no age gap, agent, not an agent, I loved him. And I had been since we properly became friends. I personally didn't believe in love at first sight but god I know about attraction and want. I knew what I wanted, and that was Spencer Reid, I'd take him however I could. I came up behind the man himself kissing his shoulder as he struggled with his key. I reached around grabbing him and stroking him slowly. "Hurry up wonder boy." I blew against his ear causing him to grunt "You aren't helping" he groaned bucking up into my hand. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I teased as he struggled more, "I can imagine you on the bed, panting and moaning as I ride your cock." I ran my finger up his shaft slowly causing him to moan "You begging for more. Crying out my name. I bet you couldn't be a top if you wanted" I snapped teasingly. The door flew open and he pulled me in, pinning me against the wall causing a breathy moan to slip through my slightly dry lips. He slammed the door lifting my leg grinding against me. "Are you always such a brat when you're horny?" He moaned softly sucking softly on a spot on my jaw. "And what if I am?" I mewled, before crying out as he slammed against the wall bucking against me teasingly. The clothes being in the way pissed me off slightly. A small string of curses left his mouth "It's fucking hot." He muttered. It was a little shocking to hear to Spencer curse but it was enough to make me shut the fuck up for a second. "God fuck me" I gasped rolling my hips against his needily "you know. You were the only person who didn't get me a birthday present" he hummed softly "M-maybe b-because I planned on something like this" I muttered. It was the truth, I planned on confessing and had a backup present in my car. I knew full well that I wanted to do this tonight, I even put a condom in my pocket. "Wow. Such a naughty whore." I mewled at the sentence, something about Spencer saying that was enough to nearly kill me there. I groaned in pleasure pushing down on his dick. "I want you. I want you so bad!" I dragged my nails down his chest panting already. He groaned picking me up, I used the opportunity to kick my shoes off and he walked us to his room as I worked on throwing off my shirt. He attacked my chest with love bites and kisses as he pinned me to the bed giving me a chance to work at his shirt and belt. "shit" he whispered biting his lip "you look just as good as I imagined you would." he moaned rolling his hips against me once again. The clothes were really on my nerves "off" I hissed, tugging at my own pants "now! please god!" I moaned, I rolled my hips up gasping. "Why should I?" he whispered chuckling. He was so fucking hot like this. His gruff voice just kept making me shiver and I whined "Because I need you too." I moaned legs finally free of my stupid tight pants. Beauty is pain, he sighed "Such a brat" he growled and pulled himself out of his pants making me drool at the sight "I shouldn't-" he began making me whine "-but you're too much to resist" He muttered kissing me.

I kissed back after a moment of not expecting it, his tongue making its way into my own. Spencer was an absolute god when it came to kissing, as his tongue made it's rounds around my mouth I mewled when it brushed the roof of it. I was so distracted by the kiss I hadn't noticed that he aligned with my entrance until he suddenly shoved into me. I didn't even know he put on the condom but I felt it, mostly him though. I gasped rolling my hips up nearly biting his tongue. He moaned panting "Fuck you're hot" He groaned "tight" he panted softly slowly beginning to thrust into me. I moaned loudly the suddenness of it making my head spin with pleasure "S-Spence!" I moaned as he pushed in and out of me at a slow and steady pace. I melted under him grabbing at his back, his shirt hadn't even come off yet. I wanted it off though. "Off. Sp-Spencer! Please take the shirt off." He moaned, absolute music to my ears, rocking against me taking off his shirt quickly "Such. A. Fucking. Brat" he hissed slamming into me with every word. I cried out eyes rolling back. The sounds of our moans and the slapping of skin filled the otherwise empty room. "Oh fuck!" I cried out running my hands down his chest admiring him lovingly. He may have been skinny but that didn't mean he wasn't built well. His hair fell and framed his face he looked like an actual god. "You're so fucking hot" he groaned and I arched my back with a high cry. "I-I'm- oh god- I'm cumming!" I covered my mouth. "Not. Yet." he groaned pulling out of me as I whined. "N-not fair!" I moaned "Sometimes brats need to be taught a lesson" He growled pulling me off the bed onto the floor. "Open your mouth" he said grabbing my face. I panted and opened my mouth wide. I gasped loudly as he pushed his cock into my mouth. I moaned loudly knowing what he wanted before I was even told. I bobbed my head quickly moaning at every movement and sound he made. "Baby~" he mewled as I ran my tongue up his shaft pulling off for a second to breathe before licking the tip. I pushed forward and started sucking on him again. He groaned in pleasure grabbing my hair. "Good girl. Learning not be a damn brat." He moaned teasingly, I wanted this for so long and the fact it was happening made my head spin, and my eyes roll back. After a long while he pushed me up and grabbed me shoving into me not even bothering to put me on the bed. I nearly collapsed my legs nearly giving out. So he picked me up shoving me against the wall. "Shit baby~ You're so good for me now." He gasped out "You can cum for me baby" he whispered in my ear kissing me again. I cried out loudly wiggling, against him. I bounced quickly against him, cumming and basically spilling out onto him moaning loudly. I pulled back throwing my head back as he continued to thrust into me way too hard. It drove me absolutely crazy. I moaned his name a few more times "I... I can't.. Oh god" I gasped feeling him fill me entirely with his cum. He collapsed back onto the bed with me still in his arms resting on his chest. "Damn..." he whispered against my neck. I only yawned in response, not able to speak. "I... I love you. Not just like." he whispered. "I know it's not the time, but I don't want this to be a one night stand. Or a friends with benefits thing. I want you. I want to be yours. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk tomorrow" He whispered earning a tired yawn from me. I gasped softly as he pulled out leaving me feeling empty. And to sleep we went.

3rd person P.o.V

The next morning (Y/N) had woke up sore and alone. It was strange to them but they smiled as Spencer walked into the room. "Hi." he whispered handing them some pain medicine. "Did you sleep well?" He asked them petting their head and brushing the hair out of their eyes. "hi... I slept great" they mumbled taking it with a hum. "Good. Do you uh, need a shower?" he asked gently "and your clothes are in the dryer." he mumbled shyly. It was a funny thing, how dominate and rough he was, but now soft and shy as usual. It made them smile "I... I really care for you." he whispered "And I want you to be comfortable." He whispered. "I love you too Spencer." I giggled quietly "A shower would be lovely." they laughed a little. Spencer grinned happily "Best birthday present ever"

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #smut #criminal minds #criminal minds oneshot

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somedew-fictions · 4 years

Note

16, Shane to (non-binary?) Farmer. Fuck me up.

#16 “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be better!”

The farmer has been living in the valley for just over a year, Spring rolling around once again. The coming of Spring meant that the farmer had plenty of work to do on the farm after a long winter with hours kneeling in the fields. And that's what the farmer did, spending all day under the hot scourging sun until it got cool and dark to the point they could no longer see three feet ahead of them.

Soon the farmer finds themselves heading to the Stardrop Saloon after a quick shower, humming as they stroll into town. The best way to end a hard day at work is a nice evening surrounded by friends and stuffing your face with Gus's cooking.

The farmer enters the saloon, throwing a nod towards Willy and Clint's table and a wave towards Elliott and Leah before offering a smile to Pierre. Their feet gravitate towards the fireplace as usual to sit with their closest friend in town, Shane.

He was a handful at times, but with the right mindset, he will show a person his redeeming qualities. In just a year of knowing him, the farmer has watched him grow as a person; watched him fall from his already crestfallen position, but they also have been there to help him on his way back up.

The farmer crawled into his pit of despair, lowering themselves in one inch at a time as he slowly opened up to them, and offered to hoist him up just the few feet he needed in order to grab the ledge and begin the climb all the way back up. Now, they still offer support, remaining at the bottom to catch him if he looses his grip on his journey.

Yet, approaching their usual spot, Shane is no where in sight. The farmer frowns, turning back around to face the room and get a better look to who is present, hoping to see Shane's face. When they don't, the farmer takes a quick peak into the arcade, wondering if Shane was checking to make sure his high score hadn't been beaten by Sam, but again, he wasn't there.

Upon exiting the arcade, Gus spots the farmer's worried expression.

"It's good to see you, you have barely come in all Winter." Gus says, leaning over the bar as the farmer approaches. His smile is as welcoming as usual, his eyes burning with curiosity.

"Good to see you too Gus. Shane and I always come out for dinner when you make crab cakes, so we wouldn't miss it," the farmer sighs. "Have you seen him?"

Gus's smile falters for a moment, something in his eyes weakening. "I..." He glances away. "I thought maybe you two had a falling out or something."

"Why would you think that?" The farmer's frown deepens. "Gus, tell me the truth."

Gus forces his gaze to meet the farmer's, his shoulders tense. "He came in like he normally does after work but before I knew it he had ordered a beer."

"You gave him a beer?" The farmer hisses into a whisper, their eyes settling into a glare at Gus.

Gus drops his voice down low, leaning across the bar further. "I've been keeping Shane's sobriety on the down low like you asked me to so nobody makes a big deal about it. Emily doesn't know about it so she is the one who gave him the drink," he takes a deep breath, knowing he made a horrible mistake. "I'm sorry. I really am..."

"Do you know where he is now?" The farmer sighs, shaking their head slowly. Suddenly everything feels like it is crumbling around them- like the ground beneath their feet is beginning to shift, making it harder to stand.

"About three glasses in he started mumbling about how angry you were going to be and he left," Gus shrugs. "I assume he went home. He didn't look wasted."

The farmer bites their lip, thinking for a moment. "Alright, thanks Gus. You owe me a crab cake," they say before walking out of the saloon without another word, hoping they know where to find Shane.

At this point its pitch black out, the moon's radiance practically useless. Their fingers cold from the night's breeze, the farmer shoves their hands into their pockets and heads down towards Marnie's ranch.

They know well enough he isn't home, so they march right past the ranch house and head to the dock in the lake.

Because of how dark it is the farmer can't see Shane's silhouette until they are standing at the opposing end of the dock. They can see him crouching at the edge of the dock completely crestfallen, his face buried in his hands.

The sight felt so familiar, the farmer's finger tips going numb. Seeing him in the same position they found him in months ago that fully pulled them into his pit of despair. The farmer hadn't realized that they never left that moment in time, suspended on the dock as they witness Shane crumble away.

"Shane," the farmer croaks. "I was so worried," they whimper, hurrying down the dock to join him at the edge. Their boots sound heavy against the old wood, startling Shane.

He lifts his head like a dog who had just heard its name be called, his eyes wide as he watches the farmer rush to his side with tears already forming in their eyes. His jaw hangs slightly agape, his thoughts buzzing around in his head as he tries to sort them.

The farmer goes to hug him and his cheeks burn a fiery red, remaining still as the farmer pulls him closer. After an awkward beat, the farmer lets go, blood running to their cheeks in embarrassment.

"Shane? What's wrong? We were supposed to have dinner at the saloon tonight," the farmer asks worriedly.

"I..." Shane slowly shakes his head as the words are caught in his throat. The farmer watches as he crumbles before their very eyes, his face contorting as he fights his own expression. "I..." his neck gives up, his head falling forward in defeat.

"Tell me what happened, Shane," the farmer begs, reaching up their hands to brush his hair away from his forehead. When he doesn't reply, the farmer forces a crooked smile across their face.

They couldn't let him slip fully back into his original state- they had to salvage what they could and cut their losses. Gus had said he had left the saloon on his own- that counted for something. "It's okay," they assure him meekly. "It's going to be okay, too. I'm not upset."

Shane's shoulders shudder, the farmer barely able to make out his facial features in the dark. They can hear him as he takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry," he manages to say, his mouth dry. "Emily asked if I'd have my usual and I wasn't thinking and... it was right in front of me. I couldn't say no." He shakes his head, a look of disgust on his face from his own actions.

"But you left the saloon, Shane," the farmer smiles faintly, their smile becoming more genuine as his eyes flick up to meet their gaze. "I'm so proud of you for that. Nothing has been lost."

"You think so?" He whispers.

"I know so!" The farmer confirms, opening their arms for a hug. Shane bites his lip and accepts their hug, burying his face into their shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'll try to be better."

"I don't have a doubt in my mind that you won't," the farmer smiles, giving him a squeeze.

I tried XD I hope you all enjoyed!!!!

#900th apology #stardew valley #sdv #sv #sv imagines #sv shane #shane #sdv shane #shane sdv #stardew valley shane #shane stardew valley #imagines #sdv imagines

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thenovelartist · 4 years

Text

Her White Knight

It’s been 87 years... XD

This is a Secret Santa gift for @saijspellhart ! Hope you enjoy the MariBlanc (and that I did it justice) :D

...

Marinette knew this marriage was strictly political. She knew a princess’ job was to marry for the protection or political gain for their kingdom.

Or, in the case of Princess Chloe Bourgeois, her job was trying to pull the wool over her fiancé’s eyes.

In these marriages, it did not matter if the soon-to-be husband would be twice her age, no matter how desperately uncomfortable that made said princess. It had made Chloe uncomfortable, just as it made Marinette uncomfortable. However, unlike Chloe who had the power to manipulate whoever she chose, Marinette didn’t have much of a choice than to suck it up and bear it.

After traveling for days on end, she and her entourage had finally arrived at the castle, her new home. A pit of dread formed in her gut. However, she didn’t have a choice but to smile and march forward to the castle entrance, where several servants were waiting for her but not the man she had been sent to marry.

“Princess Chloe,” one of the men said, stepping forward before bowing before her. “We are so pleased you have arrived safely. Allow us to show you about the castle.”

She agreed, following the man as he led her around the place. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it didn’t make the uneasiness in her gut go away.

Eventually, the tour did come to an end in a meeting room upstairs, where her future husband happened to be. The butler introduced her as she walked into the room, then bowed and left her alone and unchaperoned with the man in front of her.

Her heart was racing so fast with nerves, and it didn’t help that the man silently stared her down with cold eyes and a stony expression.

“I remember your father commenting how chatty you were,” he eventually said.

Had King Andre said as much about Chloe? Marinette took a deep breath, hoping to settle some of the panic rising up in her. “Only with people I know well.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Marinette thought that he knew. How, she wasn’t sure. He’d never seen Chloe before now, so he wouldn’t know what she looked like. But she felt stripped bare by that cold, calculating gaze of his. And she couldn’t help but feel that if he hadn’t figured her out already, he would soon enough.

Crash!

Marinette whipped around at the sound of the shattered window, her heart pounding in fright. But in the next moment, someone grabbed her hand, yanking her back against them and putting a knife to her throat. She gasped at the sudden touch of a blade along her neck, panic making the world already start to disappear.

“Silence or I’ll kill her.”

The roar in her ears and beating in her chest only increased at the growly voice by her ear.

“Who are you?” King Gabriel asked, seemingly unfazed by the fact a man was about to kill her right before his eyes.

The man scoffed, squeezing her tighter to the point she couldn’t hold back a scared squeak. “Of course you don’t recognize me,” he snarled. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Let’s just say this: Lady Emilie, second daughter of a duke. Do you remember her?”

King Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

“No words to say about the woman whose life you ruined?”

Again, no response.

“Pathetic,” he spat in disgust. “So, just like you ruined hers and destroyed mine before you even knew of my existence, I’m here to finally repay the favor.”

The king didn’t even flinch. “And just how does a pathetic, no name bastard plan to do that?”

A growl rose up in the man’s throat as he pressed the knife closer to Marinette’s neck. “Considering you made me a bastard, you know part of my name. But I won’t grace you with my Christian one. However, you’ll want a name to curse when I make your life a living hell. So, from this day forth, you may curse the day Chat Blanc ever came into your life.”

In an instant, the man covered her face with a handkerchief, making it very hard to breathe. With every breath, she inhaled something that was both sweet and sour. A vile mix that made her gut churn.

“Bit by bit, I will destroy all the things you find valuable,” her captor spat, “since I doubt you have the ability to regard anything as precious.”

Her vision was beginning to blur, and her head was beginning to get light.

“And I’ll start with her.”

She tried her best to fight it, but it was no use, she couldn’t get away. Her gut was sinking faster than a stone in water. Was she going to die?

“And you think you’ll get away with this in my castle?” King Gabriel challenged.

The last thing Marinette heard before the world turned black was the man behind her chuckling, a dark, terrifying sound. “Watch me.”

…

Back at his hideaway, Adrien pulled the unconscious girl off the saddle, cradling her carefully in his arms as he marched towards his hideaway house. Marinette. The one love of his life. He’d been on his way to deliver his warning to King Gabriel when he saw her step out of the carriage.

He’d had to do a double take because, at first, he knew that couldn’t have been her. She wasn’t a princess. Yet, the resemblance was uncanny. So, he stalked her as she was shown around the castle. And the more he saw, the more convinced he was that this was his precious Marinette. How she had ended up in that position, he had no clue, but he was bound and determined to get her out of it.

So as much as he hated to scare her as he had, holding a knife to her throat and kidnapping her, he hadn’t had much of a choice.

The small house on the corner of his late mother’s family’s property only had a single room and a single bed. He laid the still unconscious Marinette on it before starting up a fire in the fire place. Fall was in full swing, and the nights were growing colder. Adrien was fine with it being a little chilly, but he wanted Marinette to be comfortable. She never did like the cold.

Once that was complete, he pulled some blankets over her. Once that was settled, he left to put his horse away properly. Hopefully, he’d return to her side before she woke up. He’d already scared her once; he didn’t want her to awake only to panic without him there to explain everything.

…

When Marinette awoke, she felt sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting against the swirling in her stomach. Her head was spinning, too, making her want to do nothing but fall back asleep.

But… hadn’t something happened? She wasn’t in her own bed at her own home. Something had smelled funny…

She tried to force herself to open her eyes, only for them to slam shut when the light was too much.

“Shh.”

Long, lazy circles were being drawn on her back soothing her, coaxing her back into sleep.

“You don’t have to force yourself up,” a calm, sweet voice said. “Rest.”

And she nearly did just that. Until her mind started putting things together. Like the fact she didn’t recognize the voice. Or that she realized that she’d been traveling to meet the man that would become her husband.

Or that she’d been kidnapped.

Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking them several times in order to focus them. She caught sight of a person sitting beside her on the bed, rubbing her back and shoulders.

“You’re awake?” the gentle voice asked. “Don’t force yourself. Sleep if you want.”

She looked up at the man’s face, spying a mess of blonde hair and a sweet smile paired with a gentle gaze. He looked so familiar. So… familiar…

“Adrien?” Her voice was dry and raspy, but it was enough for that smile to brighten even further.

“You know, when we parted and you told me that I was welcome to abscond with you when I was able to, this was not how I pictured it going.”

Her mind processed his words, taking a moment to fully register in her head. She scoffed, though she couldn’t resist smiling. “I didn’t mean it literally.”

He chuckled, reaching for a pitcher that was on the bedside table. He poured her a cup while she struggled to sit up. He helped her the rest of the way before offering her the cup. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drug you. I know that it can leave your throat dry.”

She took the cup and drank, only getting half of it down before her stomach protested her drinking any more. She set it down on the table by the bed.

“But you couldn’t imagine my surprise when the ‘princess’ showed up,” he continued. “And all I saw… was the woman I had sworn I would marry walking up to be the king’s bride. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m desperate to hear an explanation.”

The soft look in his eyes had shifted, a blazing fire in them now. That smile was gone, along with any gentleness in his expression. But it didn’t worry her. After having grown up with this man, after having fallen in love with him, she knew that any anger inside him was not aimed at her. She also knew how to calm him down.

Actually, as far as she knew, she might be the only one who’s ever succeeded in calming him down. “You remember that we parted because I was one of the maids sent with your aunt when she happened to marry into the royal family of the closest kingdom.”

He nodded. “I never understood why you had to go,” he said with a snarl.

“I never did, either, but I couldn’t exactly protest.”

“You should have let me abscond with you then.”

“Adrien,” she cooed, taking his jaw in her hands. Instantly, she felt him melt into her touch. “You knew why I couldn’t let you do that. You were still in training to become a royal knight, and you did not need any distraction of me being your wife at that time.”

“I could have made it work.”

“Just because you could have didn’t mean you should have.”

“But then you wouldn’t have left!” he protested. “And you could have stayed put where I could have kept an eye on you, and you wouldn’t—”

“Adrien,” she gently interrupted, cutting off his impassioned rant. She rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs, hoping to calm him down some more. Slowly, he relaxed back into her hands. “Be reasonable.”

“I am,” he muttered.

“No, you’re not, and you know it.”

His gaze fell away as he let loose a frustrated growl.

She chuckled. “It wasn’t ideal, but us parting the way we did was better than me agreeing to your impulsive marriage proposal.”

“How is three years of torture better than—”

“Because it would have put more stress on both of us, and you know it.”

“But—”

“Adrien.”

He pouted.

Marinette grinned, rubbing her thumbs in soothing circles on his cheeks again. “Always so impulsive,” she affectionately murmured.

He grunted but didn’t protest.

With a sigh, she continued her story. “As for why I ended up pretending to be a princess, well… it certainly wasn’t my idea.”

“Never would have guessed,” he sarcastically spat.

“I had a man I wanted to marry already,” she said, leaning her face closer to his. “I didn’t want to marry a king twice my age. But on that same note, neither did Princess Chloe. When her father told her that she was to marry King Gabriel, she refused. Then she was the one who came up with the idea to send someone as a replacement for her.”

“And that someone was you?”

Marinette cringed. “Princess Chloe hated me from the moment I came to the castle. She was probably thrilled to put this task on me.”

Adrien growled, sliding even closer to her so he could pull her into his arms.

The suddenness of his actions shocked her, but soon enough, she was melting into his embrace. And after a moment of just sitting there in his arms, she started crying, clinging to his shirt as though her life depended on it. When was the last time she’d held him? Three years? She’d been fifteen when she’d been forced to separate from him. Now, she was a fully-grown woman.

No matter how it was put, she hadn’t held him for far too long, especially considering that she’d loved him more than anything. And still did.

He clung to her, too. His own body wracking as he teared up, too. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she returned tearfully. She hadn’t realized just how much until now when she was finally back in his arms.

And he didn’t seem too keen on letting her go.

That was fine by her.

After a little while of just holding him and being held, she couldn’t help but ask the question that had been nagging her. “Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

“You… you basically kidnapped me from the castle.”

“Yes.”

“Why? I mean… I understand why you pulled me away but… couldn’t you have taken me another way? You’re a member of the royal knights, aren’t you?”

Adrien tensed in her arms, slowly pulling away.

Which only caused her to worry. “Adrien?”

“I’m not part of the royal knights any longer.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “What? What do you mean?”

Adrien sighed but didn’t speak.

Marinette’s brow furrowed in worry.

“A lot of things happened when you left,” he eventually answered. “Including me growing tired of my status as a bastard child.” When he looked to her again, his gaze was icy cold and rock hard. There was no warmth in them at all. “It never leaves you, you know. It’s like bearing the devil’s mark. Once people find out, they mark you as the lowest of the low.”

Her heart broke at his words, ones woven with anger and bitterness.

“Mother always told me to ignore them. And so did you. You… you were the only person that actually treated me like a normal human. Not like a disgrace.”

“I’ve said it once,” she said, reaching out to cradle his cheek again, and he happily leaned into her touch, “And I’ll say it again: the fact that you were born out of wedlock is not your fault. It’s not fair for you to be saddled with that derogatory title.”

His eyes softened for a moment. “I wanted to believe you when you said that you weren’t the only one who believed that, but… that was my mistake.”

Something painful clenched in her gut. “Adrien—”

“I got more injuries from my teachers and squad-mates than in training or in combat.”

It felt like she’d just been hit in the chest because the air in her lungs disappeared in an instant. “Oh, Adrien.”

“And then my father—no, the man who sired me…”

Marinette blinked. “Your father—”

“He doesn’t deserve the term!” he snapped.

“Sorry, sorry,” she appeased. “I just… I didn’t know that you learned who he was. Your mom never told you, even though it was clear she knew.”

“He wanted her as his lover, then abandoned her when she was pregnant with me.” He growled. “But what did he expect to happen?” he shouted angrily. “Sleep with a healthy woman long enough and of course she’ll bear a child! He’s not innocent here. How dare he leave my mother to fend for herself!”

Marinette knew there was no breaking into his ranting. She could only hold his cheeks in her hands, drawing him forward enough to rest her forehead on his. She felt some of the tension leave his body.

“He could have married her,” he said, voice now weak. “Should have married her. Why did he leave us?”

His broken words wrecked Marinette’s heart. “I don’t know,” she said. “Only he knows that.”

Slowly, in that moment of silence, the words he’d spat at the king before he’d kidnapped her came back to mind. “Adrien. Your father… is he—?”

“The king?” he finished. “Yes. And no one I worked for or trained with insulted me more than him.”

“So, when you said you were going to strip him of everything…?”

His eyes locked on her. “It’s not just because he was cruel to me,” he clarified. “You know the state of the kingdom. It hasn’t changed since you left.”

She frowned. Yes, she did know the state of the kingdom. It was in a rough place for the common folk.

“His harassment was just the final straw,” Adrien finished. He then pulled away and his eyes grew hard. “And you won’t stop me, Marinette. I’ve made up my mind on this. I will see it through to completion.”

As she looked into those green eyes of his, she saw the fire blazing within them. She wasn’t sure how much she should push, or even if she could. “I’m just… hesitant.”

“You’re not the one making this decision, so whether your hesitant or not doesn’t matter.”

“For your safety.”

He scoffed, his smile bitter. “I’m a knight. My safety was never guaranteed.”

“It’s worse now.”

She was glad that bitter smirk fell away. “It doesn’t matter. What has to be done has to be done.”

She bit her lip, unsure just what she could say.

He glared at her. “Marinette, I know that look in your eyes.” He then took her chin, in his hands so ensure she couldn’t turn her gaze away from his. “There is nothing you can say that will convince me otherwise.”

“So I’m expected to just roll over as you impulsively—”

“It’s not impulsive,” he curtly interrupted. “Not this time. I’ve thought this out. I’ve planned it. I’m just doing what has to be done. For the sake of this kingdom, and that is overthrowing the current king.”

She sighed as she listened to his impassioned rant, unsure of what to say. “And you’ll take over for him, I assume.”

There was a flash of something in Adrien’s eyes, something that left them duller than before, like he’d cut off his soul from her. And that’s when she realized, that flash had been hurt. “Don’t you dare think I’m petty enough to try to take his throne for selfish reasons.”

“Oh, no, no,” she quickly assured, realizing just how her words had been misinterpreted. “I’m not. Not for a second. That’s not like you.”

“The fact I’m related to him by blood is of no matter to me,” he continued. “I’m doing this for the betterment of the kingdom, not because I care for the throne.”

“I know,” she promised, taking hold of his hands and squeezing them tightly. “I know you. I know that you’re not like that. I’m just worried for you and all the weight you’re shouldering.”

That fiercely cold gaze of his warmed, as though an ice had thawed out. Seems she navigated the hurt she’d inadvertently given him. “Trust me, Marinette. I have to do this. For you and me and everyone else in the kingdom.”

“Okay,” she relented. “Okay.”

…

Three days, she’d been living with Adrien in this small little house. She recognized it as the house on the corner of his mother’s parents’ property. After all, he did abscond with her here once before and almost convince her to stay with him.

He’d also kissed her more heavily that night than he ever had before.

Blushing hard, she shook her head to try to rid herself of the memory. Thankfully, he wasn’t here to catch her embarrassment. He was out again at the moment. There was a pattern during the day where he left for hours at a time, always returning before dinner but never telling her what he was up to, claiming it was for her safety. He admitted to talking to friends—that she assumed meant comrades or people he was working with, at least; she severely doubted he was doing all this alone—or writing letters, but that was all he divulged.

Everything about the two of them seemed new and fresh, like she was navigating a whole different relationship as opposed to the one they were in three years ago.

But then again, they weren’t the people they were three years ago.

That didn’t mean she loved him less. Every day they spent together reminded her more and more of just why she had fallen in love with him in the first place. Now, she just loved him differently from the way she did back then. Three days was enough to prove that he was still Adrien at his core, but unfortunately, as she’d learned, he was shattered. He’d always had a wild, reckless, impulsive edge to him. It was one of the things she’d loved about him. She’d nick-named him Chat Noir because of it, because he was like a cat: curious and always getting into trouble. He’d embraced the name, but only after she agreed to be his Lucky Ladybug.

But now… Chat Blanc…

She learned he called himself that because he was ready to wipe clean the slate of this kingdom and start over. He wanted nothing more than to overthrow the corrupt king and all the black-hearted soldiers who had done nothing but harass and abuse him. Abuse that had turned him from the boy she’d once known to a man who was crafty and calculating and constantly skeptical.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she could have stopped his transformation, but she couldn’t turn back time, meaning all she could do was to be here for him. And it worked, too. She noticed that no matter what feral state he marched into the house in, a touch from her could take the edge off the wild look in his eye.

The door opened, and Marinette spun around to face him. His posture was rigid, his shoulders set square, and his mouth tugged into a frown, just as he usually was when he returned from being out all day. So, just as she usually did, she shot him a smile. “Welcome home,” she whispered as she reached out to embrace him.

Instantly, he melted into her touch, practically collapsing against her before he had the good sense to embrace her back. “I love you,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“And I love you,” she quietly returned.

This only caused him to grab on to her tighter, like she was his lifeline and he was a dying man clinging to it. It only made him worry for him more.

“Are you doing okay?” she asked, stroking his hair soothingly.

“I have you with me,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”

She felt her cheeks warm at his admission.

“One day, I’ll make you a queen,” he said. “And I’ll give you the world.”

“I don’t need the world,” she countered. “I just want you.”

“But I want to give you everything,” he said, his body tensing as he stressed his point. “You deserve it.”

She scoffed. “I don’t deserve—”

“Yes, you do,” he quickly interrupted. “You very much do.”

She sighed. “Adrien, just be careful in the process. I much prefer to have you in one piece than you tearing yourself to pieces in order to give me something. You are the treasure. Not anything else.”

His arms tightened around her, but she barely noticed, not when his lips found the spot where her neck met her shoulders. She gasped in surprise as he laid a long, lingering kiss there. “And that’s why I’ll give you everything,” he whispered against her skin, making her shiver. He then pulled away just so that he could see her face, but his embrace never loosened. “Because no one else thinks of me as highly as you do. So mark my words, I will make you a queen. All you have to do is marry me.”

Her heart was pounding at his previous action, but her mind was still lucid enough to process his words. This again. Ever since she came, he’d been begging for her to marry him. She’d always paused him with a “Are you sure this is good timing, Adrien?”, uncertain about a lot of things. They’d only just reunited and he had so much to deal with at the moment, but she could see it wasn’t stopping him from repeatedly asking for her hand. “Why are you so insistent?”

His eyes narrowed, the green orbs growing cold. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Because you have a lot on your plate right now.”

He shrugged. “Marry now, marry later; what difference does it make? I severely doubt there will be a time where I think I don’t want to marry you, so why not now?”

She sighed. “You’ve always been persistent.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” he challenged. “I love you, Marinette. I always have and always will. I want to be able to come home to you as my wife. Is that too much to ask?”

After a moment of thought, she shook her head. It came as no surprise to her why he was so persistent on the marriage issue: he was born out of wedlock, after all. She remembered that first night that he’d kissed her so heavily back when they were young that she was worried about how much he wanted of her, particularly since she felt terrified to give him everything. But he had assured her that he wouldn’t. Out of respect for her, of course, but he also said he would never take the risk of making a child out of wedlock. “I’ll never saddle my own children with the derogatory title I’m damned to carry.”

“Why do you want me so badly?” she asked. “That you’re so impatient to wait.”

His eyes darkened, a look he’d only had once before as far as she remembered. Her gut spun itself into knots instantly at the raw desire swimming in them. “I want you as my wife,” he said. “That does not change. You’re my greatest treasure, and I want to protect and provide for you. I want to give you the world. But…” He leaned forward so as to press a kiss to her forehead. She felt his nose rest on the crown of her head, not pulling away. “I am a man who currently happens to be living with a very beautiful woman who I love and adore with every ounce of my being. And my self-control is weaning.”

Blood positively rushed to her face. “Uhh…” Her voice had gotten very high pitched. “You… You want… me…” She couldn’t help it. Instantly, she buried her face in his neck.

He chuckled. “I’ll always respect your boundaries,” he purred, gently stroking her hair. “Trust me that much, but I want… want to know I’m allowed to touch you and hold you and kiss you freely and unrestrained. And eventually, when you’re ready, claim you as mine.”

His words shot jitters through her. And not bad ones, either. “Adrien…”

“But, in the end—” He forced her out of her hiding spot against his chest. “—I do want you as my wife, and all that entails. Not just the physical intimacy of it.” Again, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then began a trail down her temple to her cheek. “So please, Marinette, be my wife.”

Her heart was racing wildly and her stomach was in knots she wasn’t sure would ever come untangled. He continued his ministrations, gently peppering her face with kisses.

And then when he pulled away to look her in the eye, her heart nearly shattered at his earnest expression. His eyes wide and raw, allowing her to see his soul within, past all the anger and pain he bore. One of a little boy who just wanted affection. Wanted someone to care for him. And she…

She had always wanted to be that person for him.

“Okay.”

His eyes lit up in excitement. “Is that a yes?”

She smiled, her heart thumping in her chest and butterflies flapping excitedly around in her stomach. “Yes.”

Instantly, he smashed his lips against hers, kissing them over and over and over again. Time seemed to stop as reality faded away, leaving only him and her together. Her knees were two steps from giving out on her as he stole her breath straight out of her chest time and time again.

How odd that when she was fifteen, this level of physical affection had her on edge, but now, it excited her to her very core.

Before she lost herself completely in the haze of bliss, brought on by his unending barrage of kisses to her lips and cheeks and neck, an assault that wouldn’t end even after he shoved her up against the nearest wall and began running his hands up and down her sides, she couldn’t help but think that the joy on his face that appeared the moment she’d said yes reminded her of the dorky kid she’d once known. The one she’d fallen in love with in the first place. He actually looked… happy.

I want to see you happy again, she thought as their session continued, Adrien flat out picking her up and carrying her to the bed, just like that time three years ago, only to continue pressing marks on the skin of her neck and collarbone. I want to see you as that curious Chat Noir and his bright, boisterous smile again. And if that means standing by Chat Blanc’s side for now and weathering through all the pain and suffering and anger, fighting it off with you, then I’ll gladly do it. Because more than anything,

I love you.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #chat blanc #mariblanc #romance #medieval au #secret santa gift

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chaoticneutralwriter · 5 years

Text

Twice Fallen

I implore thy loving kindness,

that even as thou didst stand beside thy dear Son as He hung upon the Cross,

so wilt thou also stand by me,

a poor sinner?

guardian demon! Jimin x reader

word count: 6.2k (the longest 6.2k of my life)

genre: angst, romance, comedy, supernatural, drama, slow-burn

Related Works: See Masterlist under Guardian Demon!Jimin

A/N: There’s a lot of Catholicism and religious things going on because well... Angels and demons LOL This is all a work of fiction inspired from real places so that’s my disclaimer here. Also it’s like...half edited xD Other than that....NAE PI TTAM NUNMUL

As the days went on, you become more riddled with an anxiousness that had overtaken every nerve in your body as a multitude of thoughts swirl around your head like an endless whirlpool. First and foremost of course, was the fact that you had exactly five days before you and your friend were due to fly out to attend the BTS concert. That alone was enough to put you in a loop, it had made you so restless that you had gone out of your way to ask co-workers if they could cover your shift — a needless attempt; you knew you were only trying to trick yourself into thinking those were your only first world problems. You shouldn’t have been as surprised when Emily had told you she had already agreed to take your shift once you came around to asking her.

“You asked me that like last week.” She had laughed good-naturedly, patting you on the shoulder in a sympathetic way. “Now I really think you need those days off if you’re starting to lose your memory like this.”

You really don’t have any memory of this though.

But it wasn’t hard to recall Jimin’s words of him promising you that he would make this trip work, no matter what. Not that you had doubted his abilities, but it’s never like you to leave everything up to one person (supernatural or not); you blame the many botched group projects in college you’ve been through for that. More so, you have come to realize, is that a small part of you had done it in hopes of being able to do something for Jimin that would repay even a fraction of what he’s doing for you. This was probably a small, insignificant thing in comparison but it was something you had some semblance of control over that didn’t necessarily require any otherworldly intervention. You should’ve known it was a losing battle from the start.

With that being said, any thoughts of the aforementioned guardian demon these days automatically leads you back to the conversation you had with Jungkook. It hasn’t faded since those three days ago, merely sitting on the back of your mind and only growing in size. You catch yourself spacing out a few times just thinking about all sorts of things that involve him.

Like maybe — actually — giving up your soul to him.

….Yeah that was quite the conclusion you came to but you can almost pin point the exact moment when you did. It came to you when you had spilled your guts about Jimin to Jungkook on that rooftop garden; never having been able to put into words your honest thoughts about him until the other demon had practically cornered you into doing it. Despite the embarrassment threatening to consume you whole, it was eye opening for you in which you’ve accepted that the only way you can come close to repaying Jimin was to give up your life to him or at least promise it in due time and… you’re okay with that idea.

Weird and concerning, rightfully so but it’s like the half of you that thinks this is utterly mad and the other, more nihilistic side of you had come into terms with one another in the form of one sole agreement that if it had to be any demon, better it be him right?

As they say, you’re only here for a good time, not a long time.

You exhale through your nose in a quiet huff of laughter, subtle enough that the lady passing by behind you doesn’t pay you any notice as you’re restocking the jewellery racks. Today is one of those rare moments that you’re given a task out on the floor away from cash for once and though you’re elated at being able to do something else for a change, your thoughts don’t revolve around whether or not you can fit just one more pair of earrings on this already overstuffed looking hook.

Even if you had settled on the idea of giving your soul to Jimin, the most important question is how? Theoretically, it seems simple enough, at least what you’re picturing in your head — you tell him you want to do it, he says yes and then gets you to sign it away in agreement in whatever form the contract is (maybe something similar to your contract with him now but altered? Who knows). Or maybe in your complete lack of knowledge in demonology, it’s way more complex than that. You could technically ask Jungkook…

Would that even be a good idea? You’re not sure, especially not after the talk you had with him — keeping that ‘good’ head of yours in tact and whatnot. But then again, you’re not entirely sure what he meant by it anyways. You pause your train of thought until a heaving sigh escapes past your lips, your shoulder deflating as your lips purse into a thin line when you realize; you don’t even have any means to contact Jungkook. He’s more of an entity who comes and goes with nothing to tether him to this world, so he’s expressed he’s never had the need for things like a mobile device.

Which means your other option for getting any type of information on this would be from the main demon himself; Jimin.

Except for two things.

One: how does one broach the topic of forfeiting their own soul over to their guardian demon? You suppose it’s not exactly an ‘over dinner’ sort of conversation. The closest thing to a timing you had in mind would be after the concert; fitting in a way where you get your wish fulfilled and now you must pay the price owed.

However, that leads you to two; you don’t have a single clue where the guardian demon in question had gone off to. The last you saw of him was when he had walked you home those nights ago and from then, you haven’t heard from him since. You’ve tried shooting another text and hell, even pushed aside your anxiety and pride to call him for the first time ever, only to receive no response for either occasion; just radio silence. And it’s not even on the matter of telling him you’re willing to give your soul up for him — he still hasn’t told you what your flight, where your tickets or your hotel is!

You force yourself to breathe in deeply before exhaling slowly. Relax, you still technically have time, you try to reassure yourself. Not as much as you want for not knowing some important travel details, but enough that you’d still be able to set off without a hitch.

You trust Jimin.

He hasn’t let you down yet, nor do you think he will any time soon.

You’re confident.

Rome, Vatican City

A sigh involuntarily escapes the demon’s lips as he takes in the view in front of him, having not imagined that he would be here, of all places after so many years. The city is alive even if it is late into the night, the piazza lit up to cast a romantic glow on the cobble streets as crowds of people continue to stroll around in leisure. It should be no surprise though; the mild spring weather is well under way here, so much that Jimin thinks it might even be above seasonal. That doesn’t stop him from wearing the long, black overcoat over his airy chiffon button down shirt and the way it billows out behind him as he strides down this Italian street has people turning heads thinking he should be in Milan rather than here, much less how warm he must be feeling underneath it.

It pulls a small smile from him, a small distraction from his purpose here and a last ditch effort to put himself in a better mood before he has to put on a cloaking spell, hiding him from any mortal eyes. Before long, Jimin is upon the entrance to the grand circular plaza. In the centre of it, he spots the unmistakable shape of the Egyptian obelisk, the tall monument sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the Roman-Catholic structures surrounding it. Strangely enough, the more he stared at it, the more Jimin begins to feel in-like with the structure — a nameless fixture in history that eventually had its roots erased, “christianized” and erected by some old fart named Pope Sixtus V to celebrate the triumph of the Church over paganism.

Ugh.

At least it was a witness to St. Peter’s crucification (or so it was apparently said).

Jimin rolls his neck, a twitch in the muscle that had it stiffen uncomfortably before he exhales loudly through his nose.

Right.

He reminds himself to be mindful of where he is, of what he’s about to do. He may have a get out of jail free card but it won’t be nearly enough credentials to win any favours here. So Jimin steels himself, squaring his shoulders and with much more effort than he wants to admit, he begins to make his way across the plaza into a demon’s lion den. He takes care in keeping pace, steps unfaltering and gaze hardened in resolution. Jimin maneuvers inconspicuously through the lingering crowds of tourist and locals alike with the grace of a seasoned dancer but no matter how much he ducks and weaves, he cannot escape the burning sensation of being watched like an ant under a magnifying glass by the figures that seem to close in on him with every step he takes to the basilica.

All 140 of them.

And they all seem to whisper in their harrowing voices, the same obtrusive word in his ear.

Demon.

Jimin is clenching his jaw and fists by the time he reaches the grandiose staircase, his nails digging into his clammy palms until they leave deep crescent indents. A ragged exhales passes his lips, a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding until now and it makes him chastise himself. He passed the Apostolic Palace just fine, not even a single sign of getting smote. If he’s breaking out into a cold sweat from a little bit of verbal intimidation here, then what good is he by the time he has to go inside?

Jimin’s eyes slide up to take in the building that has become one of the most symbolic landmark in the religious world and the reason for his odd visit to a place he should be avoiding at all cost.

The Papal Basilica of St. Peter in the Vatican, or otherwise simply known as St. Peter’s Basilica.

Its dome shape roof looms above him, an imposing shadow even if it is lit by a multitude of beams of spotlights along its base and all around the facade — the lights only adding to its size. Doesn’t help that at either ends of the steps are the statues of St. Paul with his golden sword and St. Peter, the man himself, as if they’re there to personally greet all those who enter this holy space; whether with open arms or a strike of sword in His name, Jimin is not sure.

The basilica is closed to the public, the hours of which it is open has long since passed but despite that, Jimin waits, fixed in his spot as he simply stares unseeingly, a myriad of events all leading up to this very moment passing before his eyes.

“I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen.” Jungkook states sternly after he knocks back his drink. He places his glass down on the sleek black marble bar top a little too roughly. For once, Jimin refrains from commenting, not wanting to anger the young demon who no doubt, has zero tolerance for banter right now. As they say, let sleeping tigers lie. So Jimin straightens more in his seat, giving Jungkook his full attention.

“First, you must seek the one who has been given the keys of the kingdom of heaven by His Holiness — the gatekeeper, St. Peter, at the place where he is buried. He will be your witness and judge.”

With a deep inhale, Jimin lets the cloaking spell encase him like a thin, dark veil and after releasing his breath, he finally takes his first steps upwards towards the basilica. The closer he gets, the heavier his feet seems to feel as if a weight is pushing down on him but he persists until he reaches the tall iron gate of the entrance. If he cranes his neck, he can just make out the relief of St. Peter being handed the keys by Jesus carved into the stone, below the central window where no doubt the pope had made his appearance to the masses. For the first time in his life, Jimin feels immensely smaller as he stands in-between the columns, their height seemingly never-ending as if they are reaching heaven itself.

He vehemently tears his gaze away, teeth chewing at his bottom lip as he works to loosen his muscles that have gone tense. It’s like his own body has developed a mind of its own and is screaming at him to leave, get away. But he pushes those warnings aside and within a few strides, he finds himself passing the threshold and into the atrium. Even though it’s only the entrance hall, he can already feel the grandeur of the basilica from its high dome ceilings and archways. Within this singular space, it embodies the old and new in its walls as ancient inscriptions and plaques commemorating popes who had seen the construction of this holy building and in the fine marble floor as coat of arms. To the right at the end of the portico, is the statue of Emperor Constantine and to the left is Charlemagne, both on noble steeds carved out of white marble that seem like they’ll come to life at any moment.

Jimin’s jaw clench and unclenches, a nervous tick as he surveys his surroundings and with a sweep of his dark eyes, they land on a pair of bronze double doors.

“When you enter the atrium, you will find five bronze doors; The Door of Death, The Door of Good and Evil, The Door of the Sacraments, The Central Door, and The Holy Door. You must past through ‘The Holy Door’ to evoke the passage from sin to grace — to show your willingness to make peace with God, restore what has been damaged in yourself and reshape your heart.”

It’s not hard to figure out which door Jungkook was referring to. As he stops just before them, Jimin can see the pictures in each panel along the length of it, depicting various scenes of man’s sin and his redemption through God’s mercy. His eyes trail from the infamous disobedience of Adam and Eve to Christ’s Baptism in the Jordan. They linger on The Need for Forgiveness for a while longer than he intended.

Just how forgiving can God be? Jimin wonders.

For all the times he’s heard angels preach about His benevolence, can God extend that mercy to even a demon?

Well, Jimin huffs a quiet laugh under his breath, God had forgiven man after all and he thinks that’s a bit of a stretch.

The door is normally bricked up, opened once every twenty-five years to celebrate the Holy Year but it will prove to be no issue for Jimin. It’s not a matter of how he’s going to pass through the doorway, more so it’s what will happen when he does.

Jimin sees Jungkook’s lips quirk up in the slightest and he gets the feeling that the grimace he’s trying to hold back still showed on his face.

“I’m telling you now brother, this is the easiest part of the process and even then, I can’t tell you what will happen when you pass through those doors.”

“So am I supposed to feel enlightened then?”

“More like I actually don’t know. When you’re a blank slate being indoctrinated into this, you don’t feel anything other than the feeling of having your soul bared. But you,” Jungkook pauses to point an almost accusing finger in Jimin’s direction, “you’re a demon, so it’s either going to tickle or you’ll have your soul ripped to shreds.”

All he knows is that he’s willing, and that has to count for something. At least, that’s what he hopes. His thoughts unconsciously drift to you briefly, finding himself holding onto the image like a beacon of light in the darkness and with a swallow, he steps forward. Jimin doesn’t get a face full of metal, in fact, not even so much as a shockwave of resistance like he expected that for a split second, he’s bemused at how easily he passes through.

But then he feels it.

Something spears right through him, an invisible force so strong that it leaves him winded, knees nearly buckling and he all but finds himself stumbling through to the other side, right into the central nave. He forgets where he is for a moment, trying to gather his wits as he takes in deep breaths, trying to calm his thundering heart but it seems almost futile. True to Jungkook’s words, the moment he passed through those doors, something had torn away not just the cloaking spell he had placed on himself, but almost everything about his being — the glamour that he wore, the face that he stole, his magic, everything. He’s never felt so exposed but as he raises a trembling hand to his eyes, it seems nothing about him has changed.

Jimin balls his hand into a fist, hoping to lessen the tremors but when they don’t stop, he kisses his teeth, slightly perturbed. He shouldn’t complain, rather he should be thankful that he’s still in one piece. After all, he only just crossed the first hurdle. Without wanting to dawdle or waste time, he boldly begins to make his way.

The nave is a sight to behold, the space so high and open with its coloured marbles, gold trimmings and ornate detailing of heavenly imagery. No doubt in the day, the place would be filled with people from all around the world wanting to be able to bask in the awe of the architecture, built by the hands of arguably some of the greatest artists the world has ever known, that embodies all of the majesty, strength and beauty of God.

But now, devoid of any life, it is enveloped in an eerie silence that the soft footsteps of his loafers on the marble floors seem magnified, his only source of light was the moon streaming through pockets in the high domes, casting a cool blue haze on everything, making it seem all the more like Jimin had entered into a spiritual realm.

He passes by pillars with their niches filled with statues of saints who had founded religious orders and along the perimeter of the transept and above the arches, are the twenty eight figures of the Christian and human virtues, staring down at him, watching as he makes his way further into the the nave towards the place he must go. Jimin keeps to averting his gaze downward, determined to push away the incessant itch that has begun to crawl along his skin, heart still pounding like he’s ran a marathon rather than walk at a brisk pace like he is now and he fears that it will give him away in this quiet atmosphere, the sound so much more defeaning to his ears.

Sweat begins to form along his hairline and soon he finds himself short of breath. It makes him slow to almost a stop, light-headedness washing over him and he has to blink away the dark spots that appear in his vision, feeling sick to his stomach. When he looks next, it seems like the long hallway ahead of him had elongated but when he looks up, he’s actually only a few metres away from being directly under the impressive Baroque Canopy. No wonder his skin felt like it was burning from the inside while he’s getting chills at the same time.

Running a hand through his hair, he hastens once again.

“If, by some miracle, you find yourself inside, make your way to the end of the nave, pass the Canopy and St. Peter’s tomb, until you reach the top of the cruciform. There you will find ‘The Chapel of the Cathedra’ where you will kneel before his throne.”

“Why not his tomb?” Jimin couldn’t help but to ask. It made more sense to go see the man directly where he was supposedly buried.

“It’s symbolic because it’s a place where St. Peter had always sat, teaching and instructing the faithful of Rome. It’s only appropriate that is where you will ‘learn’ about those teachings with the guidance of the Holy Spirit.”

The altar, for lack of better words, is grandiose — it’s structure solely created to enclose the wooden throne of St. Peter, displaying it in a manner to show the significance and worship of the holy relic. The chair is a combination of the original acacia wood and gilded bronze done by Gian Lorenzo Bernini. It’s richly ornate with bas-relief, the base which it sat upon is made of black and white marble with four gigantic bronze statues, making the chair look as if it was suspended in golden clouds. On either sides, there are statues of saints from the Latin and Greek Church. At the crown are the gilt and stucco of Gloria with a host of angels among the rays of light and billowing clouds.

And right at the centre is a window of Bohemian glass, divided into twelve sections, representing the Twelve Apostles with a single dove against it — the symbol of the Holy Spirit, the soul of the Church.

Jimin stood, stuck at the very borders where the pews begin, overwhelmed with apprehension but shockingly, entranced as well. He would imagine the two windows situated on either side of the apse would let in brilliant streams of warm, golden light from the afternoon sun, giving the place an even more mystical look that would easily ensnare anyone into becoming a believer. Now though, with the light of the moon, it appears just as ghostly as the rest of the basilica — sombre yet still hauntingly beautiful. Jimin swallows once, running his tongue along his dry lips before he summons the strength to force his legs into motion.

They were by far the hardest steps he’d ever taken, his feet feeling like lead as he drags them one excruciating step at a time until he all but collapses onto his knees once he reaches the dark wooden prayer bench. His skin feels like it’s breaking out into hives, the itch becoming so unbearable at this point that he thinks he’ll go mad and resort to ripping away his skin himself. Every muscle in him is tense, any small movements causing them to twitch and spasm painfully and when he finally cranes his neck to look up at the altar, he hears his bones crack.

The fog in his head threatens to overwhelm him, stun him into a stupor until he can do nothing but slowly wither away into ashes. He fights to stay alert and with much effort, tries to remember Jungkook’s next words.

“From here, it’s pretty simple… If you can call it that.” Jungkook says a little too off-handedly, as if he was discussing how to change the battery to a remote. “You take Him into your heart and say His prayer.”

“….There are a lot of ‘prayers’.” Jimin deadpans. He may be a demon, but all demons are aware of the ridiculous amounts of prayers said in His name or in any of the other holiness, whether from being hissed out in angry fury by crossing paths with angels or in more unlucky cases, through exorcising.

Jimin’s only familiar with the sign of the cross, uttered to him by a man who couldn’t have picked a worser day to piss him off (he almost felt bad for the police who had to find him the following morning).

Jungkook flips his pretty raven locks out of his face, lazily reaching to pour himself another glass as he reclines back into his seat.

“You’ll know the one.”

The younger demon said he would know the prayer once he’s here but his mind is drawing blanks, unable to even begin searching for any hints. Through his hazy vision, the dove appears to have a halo of light surrounding it, pulsating as if it had life. He stares, fixated on that one point, waiting for who knows what. Just when the silence became too stifling, he hears a sound. It’s so soft that he can’t decipher it, much less if it was real or something he hallucinated in his delirious mind. It sounded like a whisper but he can’t make out any words, at least, not ones he recognizes.

It comes and goes, flowing like it’s being carried by an invisible breeze and before him, the dove seems to glow even brighter. It compels him to close his eyes and past a dry throat, he takes in a breath and from his lips, the first lines spills forth.

“Deus meus

ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum…”

The words burn like a hot poker being pricked along his skin, a poison pouring from his own mouth as every line was another stabbing pain. Jimin speaks until his knuckles turn white from gripping the bench so tightly, nails digging into the wood and causing small cracks to form in the grain but still through gritted teeth, he continues the prayer faithfully.

“…. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua,

de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum.”

As he reaches the final verse, his once porcelain face is drained of any colour, marred by fissures and cracks, the flesh burnt at the edges like paper caught on fire with spidery veins snaking along the surface, revealing him for what he truly is underneath. His body shakes uncontrollably and with one last sharp inhale, he utters.

“Amen.”

“So I say the ‘prayer,’” Jimin reaffirms, resisting the urge to use air quotations. “And then that’s it? Done?”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, his bunny teeth flashing as he tries to reel himself back in. He shakes his head, almost out of pity. Jimin doesn’t miss that, nor does he like it and his narrowing eyes prompts the younger demon to elaborate.

“You can very well be ‘done’ right on the spot, granted if you even make it that far — I’d honestly be very impressed if you do.” Jungkook pauses to take a sip of his drink, smacking his lips a little when he swallows the dark liquid. “What’s more important is what comes after you say the prayer; if your will has yet to be broken, it will appear.”

“What will?”

“The Chalice.”

Jimin’s eyes, which had been shut tightly, snaps open with trepidation as they wildly scan before him. He tries to collect himself but only just as a gold shape catches his eyes. A hoarse chuckle escapes him unintentionally, the sound a mixture between disbelief and immense relief.

The chalice sits unassumingly on the ornate communion table a few steps in front of him, as if it had been there the entire time. It doesn’t shine with lustre nor is it bejewelled with any precious gems, Jimin was surprised that he had noticed it at all. But nevertheless, he’s relieved to see it there; the fruit of his labour thus far. He takes a moment to just breathe, inhaling and exhaling deeply, damp forehead pressing into the wooden prayer bench. His legs feel like stone, as if anchored down on the spot but he knows he has to eventually get up.

He’s so close.

Jimin grunts, hauling himself up on shaky arms by using the bench as leverage. He leans back heavily on it, limbs protesting as his eyes lock on the gold cup that was still there, beckoning him. He takes another minute to steady himself, running his tongue over his dry, cracked lips and once he’s sure he’s stable enough, he begins to make his way. He nearly falls over from that one step alone, arms flying back to catch himself on the prayer bench just in time. Shutting his eyes, it takes everything in him not to curse aloud, given where he is right now so Jimin settles in letting out a frustrated growl instead. Once the feeling passes, he clenches his teeth and tries again.

This time, Jimin manages, keeping his steps to a minimal with one arm clutching around his midsection as if to hold himself upright. It’s a slow process, feeling like he’s travelling at a snail’s pace but eventually, he limps his way there. When the table is within reach, his hands slams down onto the surface to brace himself, a loud bang reverberating throughout the basilica. The force of it disturbs the chalice slightly, causing it to slosh the liquid inside and spill over on the white tablecloth. Jimin recoils on instinct at the sight.

Up close, he can see the finer details of the cup; how dull and worn it actually looks as if it had been used for over centuries but despite the scratches and scuffs, it had withstood time.

But that’s not where the focus of his attention is.

Jungkook’s taken on a more morose demeanour, now only fiddling his half empty glass lost in his own thoughts — or perhaps reminiscing, Jimin’s not sure. Suddenly, he breaks out into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as his gaze flits to meet Jimin’s.

“The Chalice will appear to only those who are deemed worthy. It is the final act you must do in order to prove your faith and commitment, to cleanse your soul and begin anew.”

A beat passes, wherein Jimin sits in turmoil with his own emotions. This entire ordeal was a lot to take in, the things Jungkook had told him sounding crazier than the last. Everything could go wrong so easily and so quickly that at some point, he questioned the validity of Jungkook’s method but shoot those doubts down when he reminds himself that not just anyone would know the particulars of this in such great detail.

“So do I baptize myself in the holy water? Get a new name and everything?” Jimin asks jokingly in an attempt to break the tension but even he hears the uncertainty straining his voice.

“You’re not going to anoint yourself with it.” Jungkook sighs, taking his glass in his hand if only to scrutinize it against the light. Then, he gestures it towards Jimin.

 “You’re going to drink it.”

He stares unblinkingly into the pool of water inside the chalice, watching it as if at any second, he’ll see a vision within its depths. But all he sees is the faint glow of his irises reflected back at him — two crimson drops that threaten to transform the pure water into blood.

Jungkook’s words continue to echo around in Jimin’s head, the audacity of it all never leaving.

Drink it, he says.

Of all the crazy things Jungkook had told him that night, that one takes the cake. It’s no myth that holy water to a demon is like arsenic to a human; a drop of it would greatly weaken even the strongest of demons, burning skin and bone like acid, anything more and you’ll be nothing but ashes.

So to go as far as to consume it.

A bead of sweat rolls down Jimin’s clenched jaw, a million thoughts running through his mind. A part of him admits he’s terrified of what will become of him should he choose to drink the holy water, this being the closest he’s ever been to staring death in the face. He’s lived without fear of anything for so long because he was the to be feared and even death didn’t scare him because he had nothing to lose.

Now, that’s all changed. Now, he has everything to lose.

The memories, the sounds, the scent, the warmth….

He doesn’t want to lose you.

Jimin draws in a shuddering breath, eyes slipping shut if only to escape to those feelings for a moment of reprieve. It brings a strange sense of comfort to him, a balm to his aching muscles and a moment of clarity to his hazy mind. He longs to go back to your little home, to catch just even a glimpse of your face but he’s here, a million miles away, battered, vulnerable and probably looking like every bit of vermin angels think demons are.

Yet by some miracle, he’s alive.

He’s alive when he should’ve been dead from the moment he walked through those doors.

Which means he has a chance.

Slowly, Jimin opens his eyes again, takes in his final moments and tentatively, he reaches for the cup.

“It’s supposed to be a painless process, which is why it’s foolproof — angels being ‘ethical’ and all that. But you’re a demon so if you die, you can’t blame me.” Jungkook disclaims, shooting back his drink and immediately begins to fill it up again. The younger had long opted to just have the bottle beside him rather than needing to wave the bartender down to ask for a refill every time. Jimin doesn’t complain as he too needed to refill constantly; he’s lost track of how many glasses he’s downed in order to swallow this hard pill the younger demon had just given him. They’re about halfway done with their second one.

“But now that you know, do you still want to go through with it?”

Jungkook’s pinned him with a hard stare, more serious than Jimin’s ever seen him but it’s with very good reasons.

He’d basically been told he has a fifty-fifty chance of killing himself in the process on three different occasions, willingly.

A humourless laugh passes through his full lips, wondering briefly if he should’ve taken his chances on the fellow he cancelled on. Then again, Jungkook’s someone he knows and trusts, so he thinks the odds are better, if only slightly. Jimin leans over and takes the bottle, pouring more liquor into his glass until it was about half full before placing it down on the bar counter.

Lifting his glass, he swirls it once and then holds it out towards Jungkook to toast.

“Then can I get an ‘amen’?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, mouth dropping a little, completely appalled and Jimin is prepared to catch the other’s glass should it slip from his loosen grip. Thankfully, the younger demon snaps out of his shock before that happens, resting the crystal glass on the tops of his muscular thigh. Then, as Jimin’s words finally sink into him, Jungkook cocks his head, looks him dead in the eyes and says.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch.”

Jimin can only laugh in response because he can’t disagree there before he brings the glass to his lips.

There’s a strong metallic taste that reaches his tongue first, one he can probably attribute to the old cup, but then comes the first sip.

The effect is immediate.

Jimin begins to choke violently, gasping and retching so hard that he doesn’t realize he’s dropped the chalice until he hears a resounding clang of metal hitting marble. The rest of its contents spews out, soaking the floor and table but he doesn’t have the mind to think if he was meant to drink everything because all he feels is the burning.

A white hot pain racks through every nerve in his body as if he’s being incinerated from the inside out. It makes him keel over, clawing at his throat until they leave deep red marks in their wake and a guttural, agonizing scream finally tears past his clenched teeth. Jimin writhes and convulses, eyes screwing shut and trying desperately to drown out this torture but his limbs feel like they’re being torn apart and his head is about to split open. He’s so out of his mind that above his own sounds of torment, the ringing in his ears begin to sound more like the notes of an organ being played.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, slowly suffocating to death but he can’t stand this any longer. With wild abandon, Jimin’s eyes shoot open, searching for something, anything, anyone, only to meet the serene gazes of the numerous saints and heavenly hosts painted into the stucco ceiling.

Please. He cries, pleads, begs.

Make it stop.

He feels his body seize before all strength leaves him, his hands falling limp to his side and his vision blurs until they can no longer see past the inky black tears that begin to stream from his eyes.

Everything falls silent.

And then he feels nothing.

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eyes-of-heimdall · 4 years

Note

So cool that you are blogging! Good luck with that!I will give you an idea, if you allow: mb you can do an hc or scenario about how, after a good ending, MC tries to unobtrusively find out if Yakumo has feelings for Emily. Because if Yakumo rejects her offer and leaves with MC ... Whether Yakumo knew about her feelings or not, is up to you. Perhaps Yakumo will even be offended that MC doesn't know about HIS feelings? xD

[This one confused me a bit but I hope I give what you were looking for, if not; I don’t mind trying again.]

Emotions

After the beads were restored, you couldn’t help but wonder to yourself what was next for you and everyone else. Louis would have Karen back, Mia would have Nicola back and Yakumo...

You swallowed a bit at the thought. Yakumo would have Emily. Or at least that’s what you thought. Especially with how things looked inside the vestiges and when you restored her mental stability anyways. So when Emily stopped by to visit with Davis and Yakumo, you began to leave the room.

You have held Yakumo at an arms length until you have eavesdropped in on a conversation Yakumo was having with Emily while you played solitaire. “I don’t know how to put this but...”

But before you could hear his response, Rin was calling for you to pick up your newly fixed up weapon. As she spoke to you about anything and everything, you began to space until she noticed and waved her hand. “Hey, you okay [y/n]?”

“Yeah just...”

As you frowned, Yakumo had walked over to the armory’s counter as well, a smile one his face. Excusing yourself, you walked away from him quickly, causing him to worry about what he’s done.

As time passed, you began to ask around or rather, you began to assume from some light eavesdropping and Emily’s habitual visits to the base that Yakumo and her were a couple. Tensions began to rise as others noticed your avoidance of him and Emily until finally, it was Louis who has forced you three to sit together.

“Listen” he spoke, arms crossed “I’m here to mediate but you two need to discuss this like adults. Yakumo, I’ve noticed that you’re more upset when [y/n] leaves the room and [y/n], I’ve seen you going out of your way to avoid Yakumo for anything you need when you two used to be inseparable. Now, what’s going on?”

The table was quiet until you blurted out annoyedly “I just wanted to give him time with his girlfriend, Emily.”

Yakumo was taken aback at what you said. “E-Emily? Wait Emily isn’t my girlfriend though.”

You looked over long enough to see a slight pained look on her face. “So why is she upset that you two aren’t together?”

Emily soon spoke up. “I...I’m sorry if I’ve caused any confusion but I’m upset at the fact that you would think that. I’m like a sister to him so I wouldn’t dare ask that. Unless he didn’t tell you...”

“Tell me what?” You spoke, unsure

Yakumo looked you in the eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what you may have heard or saw but [y/n] I want you. I always did. I just didn’t know how to tell you and well, it apparently did me more harm than good for me to get Emily’s help with this. I mean, I wanted my confession to have meaning, not come like...like this.”

You couldn’t find the words. You had assumed the worst, eavesdropped on a conversation and even avoided Yakumo all because of your emotions. Finding your voice, you took his hands. “I’m so sorry for what I did. For how awful I was towards you. It was wrong and stupid and I may have been jealous.”

But before you three could get to talking more about the events that’s transpired, Louis cleared his throat; a smile on his face. “Now, as you would say to me Yakumo, was that so hard?”

While Emily smiled a bit at the look on Yakumo’s face, he could only roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.” He playfully spoke

Though in his mind, he hoped you and him could be together without the need to hide your emotions for the other.

#code vein #code vein scenarios #code vein writings #code vein yakumo #yakumo shinonome

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ssa-montgomery · 3 years

Text

every night I'm dancing with your ghost

Word Count: 1781

Summary: JJ is still struggling with Emily's "death" and keeps having nightmares, Emily is there to comfort her.

Characters: JJ x Emily

Warnings: Angst, LOTS of angst, canon level violence, Emily's "death" scene, blood, hurt/comfort

A/N: I would like to start this by saying, I'm sorry. Another Criminal Minds request! I may have gone a little overboard with the angst with this one but this is where my mind went as soon as I read the request and I just had to write it. Feel free to send me some fluffy prompts to make up for this xD I hope you enjoy it either way!

Prompt: “You’re okay. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. it’s okay. It’s over now. You’re okay. Wake up. Please wake up. Don’t do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back.”

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

JJ broke away from the group following a faded map on the old warehouse wall down a corridor towards the opposite side of the building. She had entered with the rest of the team, following quickly behind the SWAT team that cleared the path in front of them but she was now only vaguely aware that there was anyone else in the building with her. Her mind was focused on one person and one person only. She wasn't even aware of her own actions as the fear took over every sense in her body. The sound of her footsteps echoing off the high walls and the hammering of her own heartbeat in her ears drowned out every other sound in the building. Her mind raced through every worst-case scenario and it felt like no matter how much she tried she couldn't slow down enough to draw a proper breath into her lungs. She skidded around a corner, grabbing at the wall to balance herself before she took the steps in front of her two at a time. She didn't flinch -not even taking a second to acknowledge it - as a sharp pain shot up from her ankle that she had landed on awkwardly when she hit the ground. Any pain was just something she could focus on after she'd found Emily. That was the one thing she was certain of, she needed to find Emily. Before it was already too late.

There was the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground at the end of the hall and without a seconds hesitation, JJ sprinted towards the noise. Her heart hammered against her ribs feeling like the pressure could break them at any second as she fought with the heavy metal door that led to the source of the sound. Finally, the door gave out under her weight and swung open. JJ stumbled inside and took in the room in front of her. She saw the source of the crash, a broken table that lay splintered on the floor. Then she stopped, everything finally catching up to her now that she had stopped running. The fear of the sight in front of her paralysing her.

"I need medical now! I need medical in the basement." She practically shouted into her earpiece as she rushed towards the shattered table. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

Emily was collapsed on the floor next to the wreckage her chest heaving as she grasped at her stomach. One of the splintered pieces of wood was pierced through her skin, her blood soaking through her shirt. As JJ got closer she could see that she was fighting to stay conscious, she wasn't sure if she even knew she was in the room with her. When she finally reached her side she dropped to her knees seeing now just how bad her injuries were.

"Hey Em, it's me. It's JJ." She said, choking back the tears that threatened to spill over. She tried her best to keep her voice steady to calm Emily and reassure her that she was there with her as she took her hand in hers lacing their fingers together.

"JJ." Emily smiled weakly, her voice was shaky and it was clear it was taking most of her energy to speak. JJ squeezed her hand tightly but when Emily tried to do the same she barely flexed her fingers. She was losing her strength too quickly. "It's too late JJ, let me go."

"No, no don't say that. Emily it's going to be okay. I've called for medics and they'll be here soon. The rest of the team knows where we are, okay? They're going to be here soon and you'll be okay." JJ nodded frantically, she didn't know who she was trying to convince, Emily or herself. She took her hand that had been resting against her side and cupped her cheek, stroking the skin. The blood on her hands left streaks on her face where her fingertips touched her skin. Emily turned her head into the palm of her hand and JJ could feel how shallow her breath was as it brushed against her skin.

"I love you JJ." Emily's voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper. JJ almost felt her lips against her palm more than she actually heard the words she was saying. She was struggling to keep her eyes open now and no matter what she tried she couldn't get her to stay focused on her anymore. JJ's hand closed around empty air and when she looked down she saw that Emily's hand had slipped from hers. When she looked back up to try and convince her to take her hand again her eyes were closed.

"Emily? Emily no, no, no! You're okay. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It's okay. It's over now. You're okay. Wake up. Please wake up." JJ sobbed trying to hug her as best she could in this awkward position, pulling her body closer to her. "Don't do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back. Please come back to me, I'm so sorry Emily."

"JJ! JJ wake up it's me!"

JJ shot up straight, her hands grasping at the duvet underneath them as she snapped her eyes closed against the harsh, bright light flooding the room. She blinked trying to fight against the light burning her eyes and gather her surroundings. Her adrenaline from the fear was still coursing through her body making her recoil from the hand touching her arm. She was disoriented and it took her a few moments of trying to control her breathing to recognise the voice that was pleading with her to calm down, trying to reassure her.

"Emily?" She panted, her mind finally slowly enough to let her focus and register that it was Emily sitting on the bed next to her. Emily placed her hand back on her arm and once JJ was certain it was really her, that she was really here she surged forward and wrapped her arms around her as tightly as she could. "I was so scared, Emily I thought you were - I thought-"

JJ stumbled over her words growing frantic again as she tried to explain everything to Emily. She could feel her chest tightening and the only thing that was keeping her somewhat sane was Emily's arms around her. Emily pulled her closer against her chest and let her bury her face into the crook of her neck as she cried. She rubbed her shoulder in circles hoping the steady rhyme would start to calm as she gently shushed her. Once JJ's crying began to slow she pressed a kiss to her hair before pulling back to meet her gaze.

"You're safe now JJ, it's okay. It was just a dream." Emily promised wiping away the tears streaming down her face. She hated seeing her so upset like this and all she wanted to do was make her feel better.

"No Emily, that's the thing. It's not just a dream because it actually happened and I just keep reliving it." JJ choked out with a shake of her head. She turned away from Emily's gaze as she started to explain it. The nightmares had been getting better ever since Emily came home from Paris and it had been a while since she had one this bad. "I keep having that awful dream of you lying on that warehouse floor dying while there was nothing any of us could do to help you."

"But just remember how that situation ended JJ, I didn't die. I'm right here with you." Emily moved to sit next to JJ, forcing her to look her in the eyes again as she ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it off her face. "There was something you could do to save me from that situation and you did. You were there for me and you were the reason I survived all those months alone in Paris. You can't keep blaming yourself because the team didn't find me sooner, because you couldn't change how it played out. It's not fair to you."

"I just feel like there was something more I could have done, maybe if I had just gotten to Quantico sooner. Maybe if I'd found more information." JJ sighed bringing her knees up to her chest as she slipped back into that old habit of blaming herself for everything that happened.

"Oh sweetheart, no. Don't, don't do that to yourself. I made my decisions and I am the only one responsible for that. You did absolutely everything you could and I couldn't love you more for it." She reassured her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders again.

JJ nodded then, finally letting herself relax for the first time that night. She let Emily pull her into her side and melted at the contact breathing in the smell of her perfume to ground herself. Emily had always been a source of comfort for her and no matter what was happening she was there to help her through it, she always had been. She'd never loved someone as much as she loved Emily.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed. It's late. Do you want some tea to help you sleep?" Emily asked gently stroking her cheek - that she was sure was now red and puffy from all her crying - as she waited for a response. Her eyes were filled with a warmth that put JJ at ease when she stared into them.

"Yes please." JJ's voice was hoarse from screaming out Emily's name in her sleep, followed by the crying which she was sure didn't help. Emily nodded at her with a smile and untucked her from her side as she stood up from the bed. She turned to walk out of the room towards the kitchen but she felt something tug at her wrist. When she looked back over her shoulder she saw that JJ was holding onto her wrist, running her thumb over the back of her hand. "Thank you, Emily."

"Of course, that's what I'm here for. Always." Emily said leaning down to press a kiss to her lips before leaving to get her cup of tea.

#criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #jemily #jemily fanfiction #jemily fanfic #jemily fic #jj #jennifer jareau #jj fanfiction #jennifer jareau fanfiction

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