#the mother of humanism is not having ANY of this she's gonna book a flight to Mesque and talk to the manager this INSTANT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away. Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere.

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat.

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for.

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t.

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her.

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself.

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went.

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting.

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her.

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity.

It was just plain concern.

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case).

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before.

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further.

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation.

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week.

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month.

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created.

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother.

And a damn good one at that.

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception.

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded.

This would be our first flight without her.

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.”

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show.

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered.

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek.

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes.

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.”

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits.

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me.

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly.

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.”

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant.

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.”

_ _ _

“Reid?”

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought.

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything.

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her.

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?”

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.”

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.”

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence.

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently.

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone.

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.”

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it.

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now.

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia.

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia.

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave.

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave.

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!”

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year.

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained.

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.”

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises.

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever.

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hercleverboy · 3 years

Text

taunted

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ hours after his release from prison, spencer’s girlfriend is kidnapped. can he pull it together long enough to save her?

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ swearing, reference to sexual assault, blood, kidnapping

word count ↠ 5.7k

“People go, but how they left always stays.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer felt overwhelmed to say the least.

In the last 24 hours, he’d undergone more stress than any human should ever have to endure. Between his release from prison and racing against the clock to save his mother, he was grateful to finally able to take a moment to stop and breathe.

In between the chaos, he hadn’t been able to see one of the people he’d missed the most during his imprisonment; his beloved fiancee, Y/N.

He knew that the team had contacted her to inform her of his release, but there’d been no time for heartfelt reunions when he was released, the safety of his mother being the only thing on his mind. As much as he’d missed his girl, it would have to wait.

As he stood walked through the lobby of his apartment complex, he couldn’t help the small smile on his lips at the anticipation of seeing her. She’d been to visit frequently while he was incarcerated, giving him just that little push to fight, to fight like hell, to come home to her. And now he was there.

As he walked up the flights of stairs, he remembered all the times he’d wished he could reach out to grab her hand when she was sat across from him, with the glass separating them and preventing him from touching her. He remembered the sleepless nights in his cell, on a bed that was cold and hard with a single uncomfortable pillow. He recalled how badly he yearned for her on those nights, craved the warmth of her arms, their bed. He was so eager to finally hold her in his arms, remind her how much he loved her, thank her for sticking with him, for being his lifeline during the hardest months of his life.

Any excitement that he held was diminished as soon as he climbed the final few steps to their floor, his eyes landing on their apartment door.

Their open apartment door.

Spencer’s eyes blew wide, part of him trying to calm himself down, she just forgot to close it behind her, and the other part knowing Y/N was too cautious to make such a silly mistake.

He wasn’t armed, after all he wasn’t planning on having to deal with shit like this for at least a few weeks following his release.

He cautiously made his way into the apartment and was immediately greeted with the obvious signs of a struggle in his living room. The coffee table’s contents had been scattered across the floor, the little table they normally placed cups of tea or snacks on had toppled over. The pretty white vase that Y/N’s mother had bought the couple a few years back was shattered on the floor, the yellow daffodils that had been inside the vase laying there limply. By the fireplace was a small pool of blood, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to.

Seeing the blood sent Spencer into a panic, his breathing increasing as he anxiously called out for her, opening up the doors to their bedroom and the bathroom, finding all the rooms empty.

He ran a hand through his hair and down his face as he tried to steady his breathing, so that he could think.

“She’s not here, She’s not here, She’s not-” Three whispered words were all that left his lips, a broken mantra filled with worry and despair.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning, how did the unsub even gain entry to the apartment?” Rossi asked, grimacing at the state of the room around them.

After coming to the realisation that his fiancee was missing and had indeed been taken, Spencer had called Emily, who’d assembled the team together to help the distraught genius. Emily sent Garcia, Luke and Matt to the BAU headquarters to work from there, while the rest of the team met up with Spencer at his apartment.

Once they’d arrived, they found Spencer outside, anxiously pacing the hallway outside the door as he mumbled to himself, desperately trying to fight off the raging headache he had. JJ was quick to attempt to console him, but to no avail. His brain was essentially mush. As if the stress of everything he’d been through wasn’t enough- the love of his life was missing, potentially dead, and he couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. How was he supposed to help?

Emily had nodded to the rest of the team, silently telling them to head inside the apartment to check things out while she came to stand in front of Spencer.

“Reid? Reid. I know this is a lot but I need you to listen to me. You can’t be here. You’re not in the right headspace for this. You’re better off back at the BAU with Garcia, Luke and Matt.” Emily tried. She didn’t want to upset him further but it was the best thing for him. There was no chance of him thinking clearly at the scene, so sending him back to HQ was the best option.

Spencer knew that. However it didn’t stop him from looking at Emily with anger flaring in his eyes. “You’re not seriously kicking me off the case? My fiancee is missing-” His voice raised but Emily cut him off.

“I’m not kicking you off the case. Y/N is a part of this family and we won’t rest until she’s home, but you’re not gonna be able to think here, Spencer. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.” She promised and he nodded, forcing him self not to grunt in pain as his splitting headache worsened.

As he stepped off of the elevator, his legs carried him quickly through the glass doors into the bullpen. He b-lined for the conference room, where Garcia, Luke Matt were sat at the roundtable. Garcia was typing away furiously at her laptop, Matt looking over her shoulder whilst Luke reviewed pictures from the crime scene. When Spencer entered the room Garcia looked up, her fingers faltering.

“Reid..” Garcia started, but quickly realised she didn’t know what to say.

Spencer said nothing, stalking toward her and leaning his hands on the table. “Emily told me you’re looking at security footage from outside our apartment complex? Did you see anything?”

Garcia exchanged a look of sadness with Matt before clearing her throat. “Uh, the cameras outside the lobby caught the kidnappers vehicle as it left, a blue Sedan, but it’s too dark for us to make out the plates.”

“Did the camera’s catch her being taken?” His voice was quiet but sturdy. The coldness of his tone almost made Garcia shiver.

“Yes.” She squeaked out.

“Show me.” He demanded, walking to her other side so he could lean over her shoulder to watch.

Matt shifted, standing up straight. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Reid.”

“Did I ask?” He spat, not bothering to spare Matt a glance as he looked at Garcia’s laptop screen. “ I said show me.”

“O-Okay.” She murmured, clicking a few buttons before the video started up.

The four of them watched intently as a man in a dark hoodie carried an unconscious Y/N out the front doors of the complex. Spencer noted the splotch of red on her forehead, likely from where the bastard had hit her to knock her out. The man forcefully shoved her in the back of the car that waited by the front of the building, before moving to get into the drivers seat and taking off.

Spencer was gripping the edge of the roundtable with such force that his knuckles were white, and it seemed a miracle that the wood hadn’t splintered under his force.

Luke spoke first. “Did we get a good enough look at his face?”

Garcia shook her head. “Not really. His back was to the camera’s a lot.”

Matt sighed. “It means he knew where they were, and how to avoid them. This kidnapping was planned, likely weeks in advance.”

Spencer slammed his hands down on the table, and Garcia let out a yelp at the sudden movement. “So we have nothing then?” He yelled, starting to pace the end of the conference room, his hands gripping handful’s of his hair.

“I’ll call Emily and see if they found anything at the scene.” Matt mumbled, quickly leaving the room.

Spencer rubbed as his eyes frustratedly, before turning toward Luke and Garcia. “You guys need to get out.”

“What?”

“Get out, you need to get out. I’m sorry but I need to think, I need to focus and I can’t do that with you here.” He ushered the two out of the conference room, slamming the door shut behind them as he looked around frantically. He grabbed the photos that were on the table that Luke was previously looking at. He stared at them, willing his brain to work, hoping he’d figure out what he was missing. He quickly grew frustrated with his lack of progress, picking up one of the books from the table and throwing it at the wall in his angry haste.

Garcia gasped, a loud bang sounding from the conference room where Reid was working tirelessly to find Y/N. She shared a look with Luke, who shrugged. The pair quickly moved toward the room, gently opening the door, to find Spencer pacing the room anxiously, running his hands through his hair as he tried to control his breathing.

Spencer didn’t know what to do. He’d exhausted the few leads they had, he was mentally and physically exhausted and he wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was. All he knew, all he could think about, was that his girl was out there somewhere, waiting for him to save her. And he wasn’t even close to finding her.

“Reid, I know a lot is going on but you’ve got to try and clear your head-“ Luke started but Spencer interrupted him, his tone cold and unforgiving.

“My fiancée is missing, and I can’t get it together long enough to figure out where she is!” He yelled, and Garcia flinched at his words. He saw the looks on their faces and frowned. “What?”

“You threw a book at the wall..” Garcia mumbled, still cautious of her words.

“If Y/N dies because I was too slow I’ll be throwing a lot more than books.” He seethed, before brushing past the stunned pair.

The cold water felt refreshing on his boiling skin as he splashed it against his face in an attempt to calm himself down a little. He gripped the sink tightly in his hands and forced himself to look in the mirror. He wasn’t shocked by what he saw staring back at him. A shell of the man he was before prison. Cold and harsh and unkind, a man who would kill another and still sleep easy. His breaths were heavy and he felt the familiar feeling crawling up his throat, the feeling that he wanted to cry, to sob and plead for everything to just end. Hadn’t he been through enough?

He choked the feeling down. Crying and pleading weren’t going to bring Y/N back home to him.

He could feel the panic bubbling within him, and so he forced himself to think of happier times, times where the weight of the world wasn’t on his aching shoulders. He screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to go somewhere better, somewhere happier, even if just for a minute.

“Spence?”

It was her voice. Oh thank god.

He blinked his eyes open, his gaze landing on her sat next to him. He immediately knew which memory he was recalling. It was one of the happiest days of his life.

He’d taken her out that night for dinner and then up a mountain of sorts so they could get to a high enough point where they’d have a perfect view of the stars. He’d explained the constellations to her as she sat next to him, cross-legged with her head resting on his shoulder and his arms around her.

He looked at her as she stared up at the night sky in awe. He took in every detail of her face, letting it really sink in that she was his, a woman so kind and compassionate and beautiful was all his. She raised her hand to point up toward the sky, an amused smile on her lips.

“What about that one, what’s it called?”

He was more than happy to tell her.

As they sat in a blissful silence, Spencer noted how this was the happiest he’d felt in a long time. With her, he was sure there could never be a bad day again.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat, unwrapping his arm from her as she turned to face him, her brow furrowed.

“Spence? You okay?”

“Yeah- I- Um, I didn’t just bring you out here to watch the stars.” He started, his palms quickly becoming sweaty and his voice dying in his rapidly drying throat. He kept trying to speak, to say the words he’d practiced a thousand times over in his head, but he simply couldn’t form the words.

She reached out to grab his hand, taking in gently in hers as an act of reassurance. “It’s okay, It’s only me. Take your time.”

He squeezed her hand in thanks before taking a deep breath and moving up from his seated position, manoeuvering so he was now down on one knee in front of her. He kept the grip on her hand, his other hand reaching into his pocket for the small red box that he’d carried with him for months prior to this moment.

Y/N gasped when he opened up the box, showcasing the beautiful silver ring sat inside. Her eyes grew wide and filled with tears.

“Y/N.” He started. “Over the two years, two-hundred-and-seventeen days, six hours and fifteen minutes we’ve been together, there’s not been one moment where I’ve not loved you. Even through petty arguments and silly fights, I have never and will never stop loving you. I don’t think I could if I tried. You’re always there for me when I need you. When a case has been rough, you’re at home waiting to hold me and make everything better. You’ve never failed me, and if you accept this ring, I promise I’ll never fail you. You’re my whole life, Y/N. There is nothing I wouldn’t do if it ensured your safety, if it meant coming home to you. You’re everything I’m ever going to want, you’re everything I need. So Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the extraordinary honour of marrying me?”

Words failed her in that moment so all she could do was nod her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him as she cried happily into his neck, and he chuckled to himself, arms wrapping around her securely.

She pulled back a moment later, swiping her fingers under her eyes to wipe her tears away as she flashed him a breath-taking smile. “Yes.” She answered quietly, watching as he carefully slipped the ring on her finger. she gazed down at it in awe. “It’s beautiful, Spence.” She grinned back up at him, her hands coming to cup his cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, before moving forward to connect his lips to hers.

He wished he could cling onto the warmth that bubbled in his chest forever.

A voice came from behind him, causing his eyes to snap open. He looked behind him, to where Luke stood by the door.

“Reid, You gotta come. Garcia found something.”

“What have you got Garcia?” Luke called as soon as he entered the conference room, Reid rushing in behind him.

“I managed to get the footage from the cameras that are outside the shop opposite the apartment complex.” She started, and Reid came to stand next to her, watching the footage play on her laptop. “If I zoom in close enough I should be able to get an ID on our unsub. We can see his face, but it’s still a tad blurry. Not to worry, I’ll work some magic and get it as clear as I can. Hopefully then we can run it through facial recognition and pray it turns up something.” She sounded hopeful, and Reid was grateful for her optimism.

It wasn’t much, but it was a lead. And honestly that was all he could ask for at that moment.

Garcia skilfully managed to unblur the video they had of the unsub, but facial recognition didn’t turn up any matches or any new leads. The team were at a loss. It had been seventy-two hours since Y/N went missing, and with every hour, the possibility of her coming home alive decreased. Spencer knew the statistics, he knew the chances. it was the curse of an eidetic memory, he supposed.

With every hour, Reid lost more and more of himself, any hope he had being chipped away with the annoying tick of the clock as seconds passed by. He had barely slept, even when being ‘ordered’ to by Emily. The only time he’d slept was when he got so drained and exhausted that he actually passed out for a few hours. He refused to eat, drinking as much caffeine as he could in order to force himself to stay awake. How could he sleep at a time like this? Whenever someone on the team tried to encourage him to eat, if only a few bites of a cereal bar, he’d snap at them.

Eventually, JJ had had enough. She watched Spencer snap at Luke, who was just trying to encourage him to put something other than coffee in his system. She stood up from her seat, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her. He attempted to protest but she gave him a look that made him decide that it was best he keep his mouth shut. She pulled them into an empty office, closing the door behind them for privacy.

“You gotta listen to me, Spence.” She spoke calmly. “I know this is killing you. I know how badly you want to find her and bring her home. Everyone out there is trying so hard to do that for you.” She pointed to the doorway to emphasise her point. She dropped her arm back down to her side as she watched him run his hands over his face exhaustedly. “Talk to me.”

“I just I can’t think straight-” He whimpered out, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “I need her to come home, I can’t live without her.” He got a little choked up, his hands trembling slightly as he desperately tried to keep his emotions in check.

JJ gently placed her hand on his shoulder, still cautious of touching him since his release from prison, not wanting to alarm or startle him.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind that we’ll find her. Y/N is tough, she won’t let him break her.”

Spencer nodded, wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his blazer. He was about to thank JJ for her comfort when a knock sounded through the room. Tara came in, a morbid look on her face. “You guys need to come see this.”

When they reach the conference room again, all of the team is gathered around the table, their gazes all trained on the phone in the middle of the table that was ringing.

Emily looked to Garcia. “Are you ready to trace the call?”

Garcia nodded. Spencer was about to ask what was happening when Emily reached over, answering the phone and putting it on loud speaker. “This is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI, who am I speaking to?”

“I want to speak with Dr Reid.” The unsub’s voice boomed through the speaker, and Emily exchanged a look with Spencer as she shook her head, placing a finger over her lips.

“We want proof of life before we negotiate anything with you.” She stated.

“She’s listening, perfectly alive. I want to speak to Dr Reid.”

Emily nodded toward Spencer, signalling for him to speak.

“I’m here.” He spoke, keeping his voice strong despite how he wanted to cry. It was a skill he’d learned in prison- tears equated to weakness, and weakness got you killed.

“I’d like you to know, I’m feeling generous today.” The unsub sounded like he was smirking on the other end of the line, almost proud.

“You are? What does that mean?” Spencer continued the conversation on, keeping the unsub on the line long enough for Garcia to get a location.

“I’ve spent a fair bit of time with Y/N. She’s fierce. Hard one to break, this one.” He was mocking Spencer, taunting him, and he had to try ridiculously hard to keep his building anger in check. “She begs for you, you know? When my punches make pretty bruises bloom across her skin she pleads for you to save her. But she’s tough, always hitting me back with insults. You know earlier, she actually spat at me, the bitch.” He chuckled, and Spencer breathed in deeply, gripping the edges of the table in a death-grip.

Rossi shot him a look from across the table that said ‘Keep it together’.

“No worry, I’m sure I can break her. If you give me some more time with her, maybe I can try some.. alternative methods.”

That was the line for Spencer, who spat through clenched his teeth and stood to hover over the phone. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch, if you touch her I swear to god-“

“I’d be careful about threatening me, or I might not be so generous.” The unsub tutted.

“What do you want? Tell me what you want in return for Y/N’s safety.”

“This isn’t a bargain, Doctor. This is a kindness. I’m going to let pretty young Y/N speak with you before I kill her. I’m not so much of a monster that I would stand in the way of young love. You have five minutes to talk. You’re welcome.”

There was more rustling on the phone, and then silence.

And then finally-

“Spence?”

Her voice was croaky, likely from the lack of water and her screaming. It sounded so broken, and Spencer’s heart ached because he could tell she was using all of her strength to try and sound okay for him.

Spencer sighed out of relief. despite how it sounded, proof that she was alive was enough to lift the slightest bit of weight from his shoulders. “It’s me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“I think some of my ribs are broken, my wrist definitely is. I’m trying to be strong Spence but I don’t know if I can-“ She choked and tears filled his eyes as he willed them to keep at bay.

“Y/N, listen to me. I will find you. Do you understand me? You will not die there. You’re gonna come home to me, I promise you that.” The tears he tried to hide away slowly trembled down his cheeks as he made promises that he wasn’t 100% sure he could keep.

“Spencer. I’m so sorry-“ She started but he interrupted her.

“Please don’t apologise, It’s not your fault, baby.” He pleaded, the feeling of dread filling him the longer they spoke.

Around the table, each team stood watching in shock, tears swimming in their own eyes.

“Two minutes.” The unsub shouted through the phone.

“I need to tell you something.” Y/N whimpered.

Spencer shook his head although she couldn’t see it. “No, I know where you’re going with this, stop it.”

She ignored his plead. “Spencer Reid, I’ve loved you ever since we met, when you spilled your coffee all over me. I remember it like it was yesterday. Your coffee ruined my outfit, and you were an apologising mess, so you gave me your jacket, even though it meant you’d get cold. I’ve loved you ever since that moment, Spencer.” Her voice broke at the end and she cleared her throat, determined to finish what she wanted to say. “You have to promise me you will move on, Spencer. You’ve got to let yourself be happy. You deserve it, so much.”

Spencer whined, his own voice croaky. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Y/N.”

The booming voice of the unsub came through the speaker again. “Times up.”

“Spencer I love yo-” The end of her sentence was cut off by the unsub ending the call, the dial tone ringing out when the line went dead.

Spencer’s hands were shaking in anger as he closed his eyes, bowing his head, hopelessly trying to keep himself calm.

Emily was the first to speak. “Did you get it, Garcia?”

Garcia continued to click away from a few moments before gasping. “Yes! Yes! I got it!”

The exclamation made Spencer’s head shoot up.

“Send us the address.” Emily ordered, as the team headed out toward the cars, with no time left to waste.

The team pulled up to the location Garcia had given them, splitting off into two groups to cover the front and back entrances.

Spencer, JJ, Luke, and Emily were all cautiously walking down one of the warehouse’s winding corridors, before turning the corner, guns in hand. They’d entered a large room, and Spencer’s eyes immediately landed on the limp figure hunched over in a chair in the centre of the room.

Whilst the other members made sure there were no other possible threats in the room, Spencer rushed forward, the only thing he could think of was getting to her.

Oh god please be alive, please.

As he got closer, he took note of the wounds she has sustained. There was blood pooling from a wound on her thigh, and a few other cuts and bruises.

Why was she so still?

As soon as he reached her his hands cupped her cheeks, her head lolled towards him, as she struggled to hold it up. He pressed two of his fingers to her neck and had never been so thankful to feel a shallow pulse beneath her skin.

“Y/N? Y/N, wake up, come on sweetheart.” He pleaded, swiping his thumbs over her cheeks.

She blinked her eyes open, groaning in pain as she came to. She hissed at the pain in her thigh, her eyes focusing on the man in front of her. “Spencer?”

“It’s me, I’m here. We’re gonna get you out of here alright, just stay with me.”

“He left a few minutes before you got here-“ She coughed mid-sentence, nodding her head weakly toward the back entrance of the room. “He went that way.”

Luke and Emily moved towards the back entrance in pursuit of the unsub, while JJ stayed back to untie Y/N’s wrists from behind her whilst speaking into her radio requesting medical attention.

Y/N groaned again as she felt Spencer’s hands on her thigh, desperately trying it slow the bleeding. She blinked, despairingly trying to stay awake. Spencer could see her fighting and scrambled to find something to distract her with. “Hey, hey. you remember when we met? Like you said on the phone? That I completely ruined your blouse with my coffee because I’m an idiot.” He gave her a small forced smile that he hoped would reassure her as she wailed out again in pain.

He looked at JJ, who looked back at him with tears in her own eyes. “I don’t think we can wait much longer for the medics, we’re gonna have to bring her to them.”

“Are you sure we should move her?” JJ asked.

Spencer simply nodded. “She might die if we don’t move her now, she’s losing too much blood.” He pulled his belt from his waist, tying it tightly just above Y/N’s leg wound. She let out a shrill cry of pain, sobs escaping her lips.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts. We’re gonna get you up and outside okay.” He cooed as he hoisted her up bridal style, holding her as gently as he could so as not to agitate her wound. With JJ beside them, he began to walk back towards the entrance. “It’ll be okay. I promise. You’ll be okay.” He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead as a promise.

Her head dropped against his shoulder and he looked down at her, his tone pleading as he spoke. “I know you’re tired baby but you gotta keep those beautiful eyes open for me, okay?” They were just stepping through the front door when she spoke.

“Spence..” She whispered, her eyes fluttering as she defeatedly attempted to stop the darkness from consuming her.

“Yeah?”

She didn’t answer.

Everything was a blur after that.

The hospital waiting room was one of Spencer’s least favourite places, he’d decided.

The strong smell of disinfectant along with the bright lights and white walls irritated his eyes, making his headaches even worse. He didn’t dare try to sleep though, not until he knew if she was okay. His head was in his hands and his leg bounced anxiously as he sat in the waiting room, his team surrounding him, all aching for any news.

Finally, after what felt like hours had dragged on, a nurse entered the room calling for Y/N’s family.

Spencer stood so quickly he nearly toppled over. He moved toward the nurse nodding his head frantically. “I’m her fiancee, is she okay?”

The nurse gave him a smile and nodded. “She’s absolutely fine, sir. The wound on her thigh bled quite heavily, but we were able to stabilise her. She has a few bruised ribs and a broken wrist, but she will make a full recovery. She’s awake if you’d like to see her?”

He nodded again, sparing a thankful glance at his team before following the nurse down the hallway.

He’d never felt such a sweet relief as he did when he saw her sat up in her hospital bed, a small smile on her lips as she drank from her water cup. Her smile brightened at the sight of him and she gave him a little wave, setting her cup down on the tiny side table.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He murmured once he reached her bedside, leaning down to engulf her in a light hug, so as not to cause her any pain.

She grinned, reaching her good hand up to hold him to her.

When he pulled back he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, one that just further assured him that she was okay. Once they pulled away, he moved his hands to cup her cheeks.

“Hi.” He grinned, the tears pricking at his eyes.

“Hi.” She gave a light chuckle, immediately regretting it when a sharp pain seared through her chest, making her wince.

He pressed his forehead to hers in a sweet gesture, closing his eyes as he basked in her warmth. He tuned his ears into the rhythm of her soft breathing, focusing on them and trying to keep his in time with hers.

She gently brushed her hand up and down his forearm in a comforting manner. “It’s okay, Spence. I’m okay.”

“I nearly lost you.” His throat caught on the words, and she noticed the stray tears that quivered down his cheeks.

She smiled sadly as he opened his eyes, hazel orbs meeting hers. “But you didn’t. I’m here. I’m alive, you’re alive, and it’s all gonna be just fine.”

He nodded before pulling away from her. he reached for the chair that was up against the wall of the room, pulling it so he could sit at her bedside. “I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.” He frowned, placing his hands in his lap. “I should’ve protected you. It’s my job to protect you. How can even think I’ll be a good husband, even a good father someday if I can’t keep you safe?”

She reached over and gripped his hand tightly. “You will be a phenomenal husband Spencer Reid, and an even better father. In less than five months I’ll be your wife, and I’ll be the happiest woman alive.” She ran her thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing manner and he smiled a little at her compliment. “And when we have a baby, they’ll be the luckiest kid on earth to have you as their father.”

“Yes ma’am.” He teased and she smiled, happy she’d been able to quash his worries, for the moment at least.

His fingers hovered over the engagement ring on her finger, bringing her hand to his lips to place a kiss on it. “Why wait?” He murmured.

“What?”

“Why should we wait five months? The nurse said they’re gonna discharge you on Thursday morning. So as soon as you’re up to it why don’t we go down to the courthouse and elope?” He queried, a smile on his lips.

“Spence.. the weddings all planned. Five months isn’t a long time.” She countered, a small smile on her lips.

“It is, it’s too long. I don’t want to waste another minute of my life not being married to you. I want you to be Mrs Reid and I want us to start living our lives together. We can still have the wedding, we’ll just get married twice.” He shrugged, and Y/N couldn’t believe she was really considering the idea.

“Spence, I don’t know..” She trailed off, still needing a little convincing to get on board.

He released her hand and stood from the chair, moving it over slightly before lowering himself down onto one knee, taking her hand again. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me-“

“You know you’ve already asked me this? Like a year ago.” She teased, and he chuckled shaking his head at her.

“Hush, let me finish. Will you marry me, on Thursday?”

“Yes.” She answered with a grin, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

He beamed, surging forward and wrapping her in his arms.

“You know, Garcia will kill us for getting married without her there.” She smirked as they pulled back, and Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“You think she won’t find out? I’ll leave you to deal with her when she gets angry, Dr. Reid.” She joked, and he laughed with her.

“I think I can handle it, Mrs Reid.”

She grinned at the premature use of the name. “You can’t call me that until Thursday, you know.”

“Technically I can’t. But as soon as I can, I’ll never stop.” He promised, leaning down to kiss her once more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #hercleverboy

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yandere-ac · 4 years

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Can I request parental Yandere! Tom with a young Y / N? Y/N has been on the island for a long time, and Tom is like their father figure. I'd like to see a scenario where Y / N meets Redd and due to their innocent and naive nature, wants to befriend him, meeting at night time just because Redd says it's better this way, probably not to alert Tom that he is there.I love how you write! Sorry for my bad English.

Yandere Parental Tom Nook X Child Reader

Little one

Tom had always considered himself good with children. It might have been because of all the late nights he spent up with Sable, taking care of Mable back when she was still very small. Even as a child, Tom swore to protect and help the ones who could not defend them self’s. It was a trait that, even though as he grew up became less and less prominent, was still a core instinct that he had. Sure, he’s the first to admit that he wasn’t exactly the most charming guy back in the day. Many seeing him as intimidating and mean. And yeah, Tom could see how people could have gotten that impression. Back then, he’d been so angry and lost. He was angry at the world. Angry at himself. Angry at...him...those where the days when he was hellbent on not letting anyone ever take advantage of him ever again. He’d locked up his heart and pushed everyone he loved away. But then...something quite peculiar happened.

It had been late at night. Tom was walking alone on the sidewalk, only the dim light of the tall streetlights illuminating his path. With hands in his pockets he picked up his pace. He wanted to get out of the city as quickly as possible. He had been spending some time with family and was currently going home. But to get to his flight he had to walk through the big city. Tom didn’t like the city, it brought back bad memories. He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the sounds of a loud crash coming from one of the alleyways nearby. What was that? Was someone hurt? Tom knew he shouldn’t...it would be dangerous and stupid. But he had to check to make sure nothing sketchy was going on. Looking back at it now. Tom was so happy, overjoyed that he decided to investigate. Approaching the alleyway he could see the silhouettes of two small creatures. And as he got closer he realised what the silhouettes were. They were two children, tanukis, looking no older than five cowering together, clutching onto each other like there was no tomorrow. They looked up at him, shaking from either the cold weather or because they were scared. Probably a mixture of the two. Tom made sure to stay completely still as he tried not to scare the two boys.

"Hello? Are you okay? Why on earth are you two out here alone?" He asked as he slowly crouched down so that he would be on the same level as the kids, still keeping his distance. Tom however did not get a response. Letting out a small sigh he tried to continue. "Can I at least get your names?" He said, making sure to keep his voice gentle. "We’re not supposed to talk to strangers mister..." one of the two said, clinging onto the other tighter. "Okay then. Hello there. My name is Tom Nook. Who are you?" Tom tried again. At this point the other one has stopped shaking and looked at Tom with more curiosity than fear. "We don’t have names mister." Tom felt his eyebrows furrow. These poor kids. "Why don’t you two come with me? It’s about to start raining and I don’t want you catching a cold." As he said this he extended his hand to the two. And carefully, the first one reached out his tiny paw to grab it. The other one was much more hesitant about the whole thing but after a quick glance at the first, he soon grabbed Toms hand. Tom led the two away to a hotel nearby where he bought a room.

That was the first significant change that led Tom to the road to redemption and recovery. After calling the police and telling them about the situation they had come to investigate with a social worker. After they had intervened and the social worker talked to the two and did confirm that the two children had no home or guardians. And even though it had only been maybe two days with the boys, Tom had grown very attached to them. And so, he offered to adopt the two. And after settling the whole thing in court, Tom was able to happily bring two small tanukis home. Of course the final decision was left up to the kids. But lucky for Tom, they too had grown attached to him and agreed to the adoption. Tom gave them the names Timothy and Thomas, Timmy and Tommy for short. And rest assured, the boys were gonna have a good life, Tom swore of it. But that, like stated before, was only the beginning.

A year later, was the second significant change that Tom went through. That year, a new villager moved in to his town. A boy with Brown hair and a red shirt. And what a mess he was. After having bought a house from Tom, he didn’t have close to the amount of bells that he needed to pay off the house loan. In fact, he only had 1000 bells in his pockets. Seeing this was almost humorous to Tom. How can you move into a new home WITHOUT bringing more than at least 30 000 bells. And yet. Something about the boy. It almost reminded him of how he used to be back when he first moved to the city. Now, he had enough common sense to bring with him more than just a few bells. But he’d still make PLENTY of screw ups and stupid decisions. And in a way, he’d wished that he had a person to help him during that time. Someone to be kind enough to extend their hand and give him assistance. Maybe if someone had, things would have turned out differently. Who know what could happen to this villager, if he’s stupid enough to not bring enough currency, then he’d sure be stupid enough to be tricked or manipulated. Tom couldn’t knowingly let that happen, especially if he could prevent it.

And so. Tom offered him a job at Nooks cranny. Just to teach him some responsibility and give him a chance to pay off his loans. But even after he paid them off, he still took some time to visit Tom every once and again. He brought a sort of warmth and life to the town. He interacted with all the other villagers and made sure to fix it up a little as well. Although very silent and kind of strange, Tom grew a certain fondness of the boy. But ultimately, it didn’t matter what he though of him. Because one day, he never showed up. Tom just assumed that he had been sick or just tired. But after a week and not a sound from him, people started to get worried. They searched his house but he wasn’t there. And that weeks turned into months, which turned into years. Tom still worried what had happened to him. But he tried not to think about it. The thought unnerved him. He couldn’t have moved out because his house still remained in the village. But, ultimately. It really didn’t matter. He was gone, and Tom had to move on.

That was years ago. During that time, human after human moved into the town. And they were all just as incompetent. Tom had started to wonder if it was a human thing. But Isabelle had been quick to insist that he help them. And he did. He always tried to teach them how to survive and make money. All while giving them a roof over their heads. He couldn’t just let them wander around without a home, they had to live somewhere. He didn’t set any dates as to when their debts had to be paid either. They could pay him off whenever they wanted. He didn’t want to cause them any stress. And just like always, he got attached to the humans, and just like always, they all eventually left him with no explanation. He didn’t understand why or how. But it was simply just how it went. But no matter how many times it happened, he never got used to it. It was always so hard to accept the fact that the human that was usually eagerly running around had left them. Had left HIM. He felt oddly protective over them all, they were like his children, his small, gullible, human children. So when he met you, that was when his instincts really went into overdrive.

He remembered it clear as day. Timmy and Tommy had ran up to him with the three residents behind him. Immediately he noticed something was odd about one of them. One of them was a human, more than that, the human looked much shorter than any other human he’d ever met. And he’s met a lot of humans in his life, a privilege which very few get. At first he thought the human, you, was just short. But as soon as he heard you speak it became clear to him. You weren’t just short, you were much younger than any of the humans he’d ever seen before. You were a child. Tom started to wonder why someone as young as you was all the way out here. Were your parents gonna come on a later plane? No, no that couldn’t be it. There where no other planes booked to the island. Maybe you were a child to one of the other residents? Interspecies adoption has recently been legalised so that could be it. Yes. That’s probably it. But that theory popped once he gave out the tents and you asked for your very own. Wouldn’t you be sleeping with your guardian? For a moment Tom panicked. What if you were just a very small human and he has misunderstood your age. So he asked you. And to his relief and confusion you answered with "ten". Didn’t you have parents? Why were you out here alone, he needed to know if he should contact somebody. So while everyone else went about looking for a place to put their tents, Tom took you aside to ask you a couple of questions.

As it turns out, you had come here completely alone. Without parents or anything. You had handed him a letter from your mother, she was the one that sent you here with the little bells she had left, because she couldn’t take care of you and hoped that an adult on the island could handle you. When Tom read the letter he felt conflicted, he felt bad for you and your mother but he also thought the action of sending away your child to a deserted island was pretty irresponsible. But whatever he thought of the situation didn’t matter, because you were here and he couldn’t exactly kick you off or anything. He was sure that you would manage life here on the island, there was lots of things to do and food was also easy to come by. So, he’d have to make sure you were comfortable here on the island. He had given you your own tent and even payed the loans that came with it.

And you were the tipping point, you were the thing that turned his redemption into something much, much more twisted.

It had started small, with him feeling a kind of protectiveness over you. He figured it was since you were both a human and a kid. This feeling, it was much stronger than any of the instincts he felt about his previous humans, it was about as strong as how he felt for Timmy and Tommy. He just wanted to scoop you up and carry you away from all your troubles. He helped you fix up your tent and when you asked if you could upgrade it, he’d offer to pay for those house depts as well. But you had refused, saying that you wanted to pay for it yourself. It seems your mother had taught you plenty about responsibility and how to take care of yourself, which came a bit as a shock for Tom. Most of not all of his previous humans had been pretty clueless about things like this, so to see a child being more mature than them was almost a bit funny. But he knew deep down that your maturity probably stemmed from having to take care of yourself without any help. And there was nothing funny about that. Surprisingly, you handled your situation very well, you picked up weeds, planted trees, fished and caught bugs which you sold to Timmy and Tommy. All to pay for said loans. And when Tom told you about his plan to get K.K. Slider to perform at the island, you put your incredible work ethic to the max. Everyday, he could see you running around the island, planting flowers and placing furniture. It came out very good considering your age and soon enough the island got a three star rating. It baffled Tom beyond belief that you were able to do all of this. Especially at your young age. He made sure to give you credit for all the good you contributed and even made sure you got the front seat when the concert began.

And that brings us to today. You had been running around the island, collecting sea shells and fruit. Anytime you ran past one of your fellow villagers you made sure to greet them and talk with them for a while. And when you did so, one of them told you about seeing a shady boat by the hidden beach. The hidden beach. You liked going there, it was a nice place where you could just relax, far away from everyone else. So hearing that there was some boat there, it’s sparked your curiosity to say the least. Where did it come from? Who was at the boat? Why were they here? You just had to go see!

So that’s what you did. As you made your way to the beach you were stopped by none other than Tom Nook himself. He was outside of the plaza with Timmy and Tommy when the boys had their break. He gave you a smile as you stopped and turned to him. "Ah if it isn’t Y/N! Why don’t you come and join me, Timmy and Tommy to our picnic. We were just about to head there." He asked, Timmy and Tommy looking at you with hopeful eyes. "Yeah Y/N! Will you? Will you?" You had to stop to think before making your decision. "Sorry but I can’t. I’ve gotta go do something!" You said. "Alright then, but if you change your mind you know where to find us." Tom said as he walked away with the two boys. You ran all the way to the secret beach and sure enough, there was a boat stationed right there on the beach. As you made your way to it, you started to feel a little hesitant about going in. What if this person was dangerous? But you’ve already come this far, so you might as well try. And so, you took a deep breath, and opened the curtains to go inside.

Dark, that was the main word that popped into your mind as you walked down the metal stairs that descended into the boats cabin. As you reached the bottom and looked around the room a strange sort of dread filled your stomach. The room was darkly lit, only a select few lights illuminating what seemed to be paintings and statues that stood on small wooden podiums. Your curiosity started bubbling as you approached the paintings. You silently admired the art, but your moment of calm was soon ended when you heard a loud creak come from the far right side of the boat. Turning around swiftly you saw the source of sound. It was a big metal door, there was an orange fox exiting the door when he suddenly froze up. His eyes met yours, and for a moment the two of you just stared at each other. As he eyes you up and down you could only look at him with big wondering eyes. You’ve never met a fox in real life before, so this was certainly an experience. The silence finally broke when he spoke up.

"Umm...Hello and welcome aboard Jolly Redds treasure trawler!" There was a bit of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real. "Hello mister! I’m Y/N, what’s your name?" You asked him, a smile making its way onto your face. "The names Jolly Redd, as the name of my boat would imply." As he introduced himself to you he gave you a mischievous smirk. He seemed to drop any uncertainty and suspicion as he looked at you. "Say, were you checking out my paintings just now?" He asked you while walking closer. "Oh yes! I think they look really beautiful!" You answered enthusiastically, bouncing up and down slightly as you clasped your small hands together. "Ohoho, why thank you. I made them myself you see." Once Redd told you this, you let out a gasp of both surprise and delight. "Wow! For real? I have to tell Mr. Nook and aunt Isabelle about this!" All of the previous pride and confidence that Redd felt disappeared the moment you mentioned "Mr. Nook". He couldn’t let Tom find out he was here. Especially when he’s talking to a human child. Redd knows about Toms protective nature when it comes to humans and children, so the thought of what he might do if he found him near a HUMAN CHILD, it’s scared him. "A-ah! Let’s NOT tell Mr. Nook or Aunt Isabelle. I’m actually a uhh..." think Redd, think! "...secret artist! Yeah! A secret artist! We don’t like to be seen or talked about. So could you do me a favour and not tell anyone about me kid?" Redd said. You however, not knowing he was bluffing, let out yet another gasp and nodded your head vigorously. "Of course mister! I’ll never tell anyone I promise!" Redd let out a laugh as he saw your enthusiasm. He liked you, he wasn’t usually fond of children. But you, something about you was different. You were cute but not to the point of being annoying. Maybe he’d stay here for a little while.

"I like you kid, you’ve got good taste. Us art lovers gotta stick together ya’know. So how about this, can you meet me here again tomorrow at night? It’s a lot easier for me that time." The question made you unsure. You’ve been told not to trust strangers, but he seemed so nice. He seemed trustworthy enough. You didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t be able to trust him. "Okay, I’ll do it."

And that was that. Every night you would sneak out of your house and visit Redd. He would show you his paintings and such, he’d even let you paint on a separate paper while he was doing his work on his forgeries. The only drawback of this was just how tired you got later during the day. It was starting to get more and more apparent to everyone else on the island, especially to Tom. He had asked you time and time again if you had trouble sleeping, but every time he’d bring it up you would get really quiet and assure him it was nothing. One time when he was out for a stroll he found you, sleeping on a bed of flowers. He picked you up and carried you to your house to put you to bed. As he tucked you into bed he let out a worried sigh, what was going on with you? But right as he walked out he caught a glimpse of something that made him stop dead in his tracks. He quickly rushed to the little desk you had in your room and looked at what laid upon it, it was a drawing. A drawing of you and an orange fox. The drawing was labelled "Me and Redd!" with green crayon. He knew something was up. But he hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

It was late at night and you were on your way to Redds boat. Unbeknownst to you, you had someone following you. As you skipped down to the secret beach you called out for Redd. And a few seconds later, Redd came out of the boat and greeted you with a hug. "Hello there my little artist. Are you ready to have some fun?" He asked as he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. "Yes! I’m ready!" You two sat down and started to paint. You told him about everything that was happening on the island, letting out a tired yawn every once in a while. As you blabbered away Redd was in deep thought, he knew he couldn’t stay here for much longer. Every day that he was here was another day that Tom could find him, and he sure as hell didn’t want that to happen. But he didn’t want to leave you, your kindness and excitement brought him some kind of joy when he would usually be completely alone. He needed a distraction other than painting and sculpturing, something that would drown out all of the persistent thoughts of hate that he felt each day. But he couldn’t just take you...could he?

"Hey, cousin? Do you like your life here?" He said out of nowhere, interrupting your ramblings. "Huh? Yeah of course. I’ve got friends and family that cares for me. I love it here." Damn it. How would he convince you if you had that attitude. "Aha...but doesn’t it get boring? You know, doing the same thing every day? When was the last time you had some excitement in your life!" Redd put down his brush and turned to you, facing you completely. "I...well..." you truly didn’t have an answer to that, sure island living wasn’t exactly the most heart pounding life but it wasn’t really supposed to be. It was supposed to be a relaxing life, without any stress or worries. "Wouldn’t you rather just get out there on the sea? With me! We could be a team! A crew! I could be the captain and you could be my second mate. Think about it Y/N!" Redd got more and more intense as he tried to convince you, but your face was far from happy or excited. It was filled with uncertainty and discomfort. "N-No I think I’ll pass. I would much rather just stay here." The fox’s expression turned from a smile into an annoyed frown. "If you don’t come with me you’ll never see me again! Do you want that Y/N?! Do you want to learn how to paint on your own? Do you want to loose out on the best teacher and friend you could’ve ever gotten?!" You didn’t give him a response, slowly backing away from him, trying to get to the stairs. But Redd saw what you were doing. "Oh no you don’t!" He rushed towards you and picked you up rather violently, you started to thrash and scream in his grasp, trying everything to get out. But suddenly you were dropped onto the floor. As you looked up in horror you saw Tom Nook hunching over you. He had his claws out and were growling at Redd. As he looked down at you his eyes softened and he motioned for you to run out, you got the message clear and ran. You ran out, sprinting for dear life in order to get to a hiding spot. Your house!

It had been about 10 minutes since you ran from the boat. You were hiding under your bed, trying to calm yourself down as the tears dropped down your face. You could feel your heart stop as you heard the door to your house opening. But you felt a huge wave of relief wash over you when you heard Toms voice call out for you. "Y/N? Where are you? It’s okay. He’s gone." You rushed out from your bed and ran downstairs to the living room. As you saw Tom stand by the end of the stairs you practically threw yourself onto him. "TOM!" Wrapping your arms around him, you started sobbing. You thought something had happened to him. You could barely form any words as tears got caught in your throat, this has been a stressful night to say the least.

"Shh shh...it’s okay...I’ve got you. I’ve got you. He can’t hurt you now, I promise." You cried onto his shoulder while he comforted you. "Do you feel comfortable sleeping alone or would you like to sleep with me, Timmy and Tommy?" You nodded your head as you climbed onto him. He only let out a small sigh as he carried you away to his house. What a mess. He wished he’d have known sooner, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But no matter, what was done was done. He could only focus on the future.

And he swore to protect you, no matter what he had to do.

#acnh #animal crossing #yandere #yandere animal crossing #yandere acnh #animal crossing x reader #ac x reader #tom nook acnh #yandere tom nook #tom nook is a dad #tom nook x reader #child reader #x reader #yandere x reader

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firstfullmoon · 4 years

Note

Do you have favorite quotes related about the importance of small details?

“The precious intimacy of little things.”

— Daphné du Maurier, I Will Never Be Young Again

“On my windowsill when I got home, there was a tumbler with pink jelly in it, and embedded in the jelly, sliced strawberries and bananas… [my neighbour] cooks at odd hours. She must have made the strawberry jelly this morning. When I buy baklava, which is not often because I eat too many, I leave a few for her on her windowsill, with a headscarf over them so the wasps don’t come. For these little gifts we don’t thank each other with words. They are commas of care.”

— John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

“I suppose I could spend time theorizing how it is that people are not bad to each other, but that’s really not the point. The point is that in almost every instance of our lives, our social lives, we are, if we pay attention, in the midst of an almost constant, if subtle, caretaking. Holding open doors. Offering elbows at crosswalks. Letting someone else go first. Helping with the heavy bags. Reaching what’s too high, or what’s been dropped. Pulling someone back to their feet. Stopping at the car wreck, at the struck dog. The alternating merge, also known as the zipper. This caretaking is our default mode and it’s always a lie that convinces us to act or believe otherwise. Always.”

“One of the woman was gently arranging an older woman’s collar beneath her sweater, freeing it from the cardigan’s neck, using both of her hands to jostle it free but also seeming to spend a little more time than necessary, creasing the fold of the collar, the other hand kind of resting on her shoulder, the two of them chatting the whole time, sitting there holding each other, nodding, my head twisting toward them like a sunflower as I finished the stairs and walked by, so in love was I with this common flourish of love, this everyday human light.”

“but her need to share the photo with me [...] smiling and looking at it, smiling and looking at me looking at it, me smiling and looking at her looking at it, which is simply called sharing what we love, what we find beautiful, which is an ethics.”

— Ross Gay, The Book of Delights

“He’s got a fever. He’s all alone. So I’m gonna buy him something to eat.” “The congee downstairs is quite good.” “He doesn’t want congee.” “What does he want?” “Can’t taste anything so he wants sesame syrup.” [...] “What are you cooking?” “I had a sudden craving for sesame syrup.”

“Why did you call me at the office today?” “I had nothing to do. I wanted to hear your voice.”

— In the Mood for Love, dir. Wong Kar-Wai

— Danusha Laméris, “Small Kindnesses”

“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”

— Laura McBride, We Are Called to Rise

“I’ve never told you this,” she said. “But there’s something about taking the cart back instead of leaving it in the parking lot. I don’t know when this came to me; it was a few years ago. There’s a difference between leaving it where you empty it and taking it back to the front of the store. It’s significant.” “Because somebody has to take them in.” “Yes. And if you know that, and you do it for that one guy, you do something else. You join the world…You move out of your isolation and become universal.”

— Andre Dubus, “Out of the Snow”

“It’s true that, in Vietnamese, we rarely say I love you, and when we do, it is almost always in English. Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearest through service: plucking white hairs, pressing yourself on your son to absorb a plane’s turbulence and, therefore, his fear. Or now—as Lan called to me, “Little Dog, get over here and help me help your mother.” And we knelt on each side of you, rolling out the hardened cords in your upper arms, then down to your wrists, your fingers. For a moment almost too brief to matter, this made sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, made something like the word family.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

— Ada Limón, from “The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road”

“I’m doing a balancing act with a stack of fresh fruit in my basket. I love you. I want us both to eat well.”

— Christopher Citro, from “Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled WIth Shrieks”

“One of the primary ways we connect with each other is by eating together. Some of the connection happens simply by being in the same place at the same time and sharing the same food, but we also connect through specific actions, such as serving food to one another or making toasts: ‘May I offer you some potatoes?’ ‘Here’s to your health and happiness.’ Much of our fundamental well-being comes from the basic reassurance that there is a place for us at the table. We belong here. Here we are served and we serve others. Here we give and receive sustenance.”

— Edward Espe Brown, Tomato Blessings and Radish Teaching

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

“Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever in the stream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the coreopsis with the greatest respect.”

“it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”

— Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays / from “Invitation”

— Wendy Cope, “The Orange”

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye, “Gate A4″

“Then there are the things, if you are particularly lucky, that this person has done for you while you’re away: how in the pantry, in the freezer, in the refrigerator will be all the food you like to eat, the scotch you like to drink. There will be the sweater you thought you lost the previous year at the theater, clean and folded and back on its shelf. There will be the shirt with its dangling buttons, but the buttons will be sewn back in place. There will be your mail stacked on one side of his desk; there will be a contract for an advertising campaign you’re going to do in Germany for an Austrian beer, with his notes in the margin to discuss with your lawyer. And there will be no mention of it, and you will know that it was done with genuine pleasure, and you will know that part of the reason—a small part, but a part—you love being in this apartment and in this relationship is because this other person is always making a home for you, and that when you tell him this, he won’t be offended but pleased, and you’ll be glad, because you meant it with gratitude.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

#this is a mim supremacy account #w #compilation #the precious intimacy of little things #john berger #hanya yanagihara #naomi shihab nye #wendy cope #mary oliver #ada limón #ocean vuong #danusha laméris #ross gay

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turtle-paced · 3 years

Text

A:tLA Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

First two-part episode of the series, and a very important one for the structure of the series going forwards too!

Book 1, Chapter 7 - The Spirit World (Winter Solstice, Part 1)

(0:55) Previously, on Avatar, Aang realised he was ready to hear whatever it was his previous incarnation Roku had to say to him. Katara lost her necklace and Zuko picked it up. Aang’s duty is to restore balance to the world by defeating Ozai, who got tipped off to Aang’s re-emergence by his own spiritual authorities.

(2:05) Airbenders think differently about heights. When Sokka suggests Katara jump off Appa and check out the fluffy clouds below them, she scoffs - but Aang gleefully says he’ll give it a go and launches himself into the air.

(2:17) Aang reports that clouds are made of water. The party will remember this.

(2:31) In this pre-flight era, where there are very few airbenders, the party has an unusual view of the devastation the Fire Nation has caused to the natural environment of the Earth Kingdom right from the beginning of their journey. As Sokka says, it’s like a scar. Attention to detail strikes again - the devastation is on one side of the river, which clearly halted some of the fire’s progress.

(2:37) When the group lands to check it out, the blackened area of the forest is more a burned-out area of the forest. There’s no wildlife around. Katara and Sokka’s differing concerns show up again. Katara checks in on a very upset Aang, while Sokka looks around for the causes of the fire (the Fire Nation).

(2:59) Aang with the heavy questions. “Why would anyone do this? How could I let this happen?” There aren’t any answers yet. Aang knows the world has changed, but he doesn’t understand how (and won’t until well into season three). As for ‘how could I let this happen?’, that requires some self-reflection. When Aang decided to run away the first time, he didn’t have the faintest idea that this, or this sort of thing, would be the outcome. The important thing here is his realisation that he doesn’t know how to be the Avatar.

(3:16) Aang draws a distinction between learning the styles of bending and learning his job. This shows us that Aang thinks of being the Avatar as more than the cool powers. He’s very much aware that being the Avatar comes with responsibilities he’s currently not at all prepared to handle.

(3:35) Fittingly, Zuko makes his re-entrance by wandering into a scene shouting for people (in this case, Iroh) to go places and do things.

(3:47) Once again Iroh advises Zuko to slow down, rest, and maybe practice some self-care. Alas, Zuko’s troubles cannot be soaked away.

(4:10) I think this might be the first time we’ve seen a variation on Iroh’s breath of fire, exhaling steam through his nose to heat the water.

(4:16) And another instance of Iroh refusing to let Zuko bully him, with a bit of malicious compliance. Zuko wants Iroh to leave the springs now? Okay! What, it was hardly as if Iroh was going to get in the water fully clothed. It’s saying no to Zuko and giving him some self-inflicted consequences of his own poor behaviour, without hurting him.

(4:30) “Are you ready to be cheered up?” Seriously, love Katara. This implies some time passing between the end of the last scene and the start of this one, in which she’s backed off to let Aang work through his emotions on his own. But she’s also not going to let Aang wallow in his problems, and she’s used the time to find something that might help Aang feel better about the problem at hand. She’s proactively dealing with the emotional issues here.

(4:47) What Katara found is acorns. Katara’s not just sitting back and saying “I have hope”, she’s going out and finding things that give her hope, and then sharing them. (And important for her to do, in an episode where she doesn’t have much of a role.) It’s also an important reminder for the group and the viewer - despite the destruction, things can regrow.

(5:11) Yet another person who sees airbending tattoos and thinks ‘aha! This must be the Avatar! Definitely not a descendant of surviving airbenders!’ It’s phrased as “are you the Avatar?”, which leads to an understated exchange between Aang and Katara where Aang looks to her, she nods, and Aang nods at the elder in an affirmative. The message between them being that it’s okay for Aang to call himself the Avatar even though he feels like he’s failed.

(5:22) Shot of another Earth Kingdom village. Those walls. No matter how small the village is, they have walls. Because it’s easy for earthbenders to make them. There has, however, been a recent fire. Several houses are burned.

(5:37) Rumours of the Avatar’s return have reached this tiny village who-knows-where in the Earth Kingdom.

(5:58) The problem the villagers are seeking help with is not the Fire Nation, however. It’s a spirit monster, Hei Bai. Up till now, the protagonists have been dealing with wartime dangers (and Bumi). This brings in one of the more solidly fantasy elements of the story. The spirit has been taking people from the village for the last few nights.

(6:20) It’s established here that the solstices are significant dates, as the natural world and the spirit world are closest at these points.

(7:08) This is one of those places where Aang is completely unequipped to handle Avatar duties. He knows next to nothing about the spirit world. This also lets the audience learn along with Aang.

(7:16) When Katara asks if Aang can help, Aang says, “I have to try, don’t I? Maybe whatever I have to do will just come to me!” Aang’s good points and bad points in a single line. Not helping doesn’t even occur to him, to the point where he sees helping others as his obligation. But there’s not much proactivity on a personal level there either, his first instinct being to hope that the solution will come to him, rather than ‘let’s go out and find this solution’.

(7:25) Love Sokka, too. “Yeah…we’re all gonna get eaten by a spirit monster.”

(8:04) It’s an important thing to remember about Iroh - he’s clever and he’s powerful, but he’s not infallible. As we see here when he’s effectively ambushed. Note how unconcerned he is about missing Zuko’s deadline, by the way.

(8:15) The incident gives the writers a chance to reiterate Iroh’s background. Fire Lord’s brother, famous general. It also gives us a title for him: “The Dragon of the West.” Iroh being captured here and addressed by a title additional to whatever he might have by virtue of being related to the Fire Lord shows us his Earth Kingdom notoriety.

(8:35) This is half-comical given Aang’s actual words, but the music and his solitude on the streets of the village are a reminder that Aang, who is not yet thirteen and who doesn’t know the spirit world ins and outs of his job, is heading out alone to confront a spirit who’s been attacking a village.

(8:44) Sokka is the first to object to letting Aang do this alone. This shows us something about Sokka’s relationship with Aang. We’ve seen Sokka reluctant to help strangers - just last episode, in fact - and we’ve also seen Sokka willing to face down an entire warship by himself to help his community. He hasn’t said it like Katara has, but Sokka’s actions show that he’s come to consider Aang as part of his family.

(9:21) Hei Bai appears and definitely fits the description of ‘spirit monster’.

(9:37) While I’m appreciating characters, love Aang, whose first reaction to a giant and quite possibly hostile spirit monster towering over him is to smile, bow, and politely introduce himself.

(9:47) Of course, the flaw in Aang’s approach is shown when his words do nothing. Hei Bai, enraged by the destruction of their forest by humans, starts rampaging around the nearest human settlement. Aang continues to try and talk even while Hei Bai is smashing buildings. We know that Aang’s pretty adaptable; he just doesn’t want to switch tactics to violence. Admirable, but not always effective, and Aang is slow to recognise and engage with situations where he has to fight.

(10:37) Sokka charges out to fight Hei Bai while Katara hangs back. On Katara’s part, I wonder if this is partially her not trusting her own ability to help in a fight.

(10:55) Aang’s just in the middle of saying “I don’t want to fight [Hei Bai] unless I have to” when Sokka gets snatched.

(11:09) It’s nighttime, and Zuko’s out looking for his uncle. Seems he didn’t leave after ten minutes, in the end. All bark and not a whole lot of bite.

(11:16) When a soldier suggests that perhaps Iroh left, under the impression that Zuko would have left, Zuko doesn’t even consider it. Even if Zuko takes it a bit for granted at this point, this relationship is so important to his character development. Zuko’s father hates him. Zuko’s mother loved him, but also left him, and he’s not privy to her reasons for going. And Zuko can still trust absolutely that Iroh loves him and wouldn’t willingly leave. He just doesn’t think about the implications for another season and a half.

(11:22) Zuko also using his brain here as he spots the reverse landslide. Another important thing to show, given that so much of Zuko’s arc involves him dealing with some realisations that are immediately obvious to the viewer. (He’s on the wrong side of the war, his dad’s a piece of shit, things like that.)

(11:37) Seriously skilful flying from Aang - he’s moving fast, through a forest, after sunset.

(12:00) Sokka gets taken into the spirit world, and Aang crash lands in front of Hei Bai’s shrine.

(12:11) Aang wakes up, and the animators do the heavy lifting in partially concealing how Aang’s been taken to the spirit world (or has partially shifted to that plane? The mechanics are unclear). The orange and yellow of Aang’s clothes are washed out in the nighttime scene, further than they were in the twilight scene immediately before the commercial break cut.

In character terms, Aang is struggling hard with feelings of failure. This is even worse because they’re justified feelings of failure and important things he’s failed at. It’s not fair he has the responsibilities, it’s true he’s a kid. There are mitigating factors here. But having tried and failed to stop the damage to the village and rescue Sokka, Aang’s feelings are valid, and deeper than can be resolved in just the one episode. This goes hand in hand with Aang’s knowledge of his responsibilities as the Avatar. He’s well aware of the expectations and where he falls short. We’ll be coming back to Aang’s self-blame and good/bad responses to failure in future episodes.

(12:23) In this establishing shot of the Earth Kingdom soldiers escorting Iroh, note that they’re barefoot.

(12:32) “We’re taking you to face justice.” Another important thing to remember with Iroh. He spent most of his career trying to conquer the Earth Kingdom. With the exception of the one flashback, the viewer sees the kindly old man who’s trying to help his nephew and, later, free the Earth Kingdom. Not everyone in-universe shares this perspective.

(12:44) As we get from the soldiers continuing to helpfully exposit. First mention of Ba Sing Se, here, and the great siege of the backstory.

(12:59) “After six hundred days away from home, my men were tired and I was tired, and I’m still tired.” With what we later learn about Lu Ten, it very much appears to me that Iroh says ‘tired’ but means ‘grieving’, and this line is a G-rated indication that there were a lot of deaths during this particular siege.

Oh, and also it’s a good lead-in to his ruse. Just as Zuko trusts that Iroh wouldn’t up and ditch him, Iroh trusts that Zuko will be looking for him.

(13:32) Gotta feel so bad for Katara, here. Aside from her own backstory of dead and absent parents, she’s just watched her brother and her best friend vanish in a fight with a spirit, leaving her alone in a foreign country.

(13:38) Katara’s holding on to Sokka’s boomerang.

(13:49) As the sun rises, it’s now clear that Aang’s clothes aren’t just washed out, he’s entirely blue-shaded. With his inability to interact with Katara and the elder, not to mention being translucent, the penny drops and Aang realises he’s in the spirit world.

(14:20) Voice acting! It’s just the one line, but on his own, Zuko is a lot less growly and shouty.

(15:06) After a low-key miserable scene of Aang, Katara, and Appa being utterly unable to comfort each other, Aang shouts at the sky that he needs to talk to Avatar Roku.

(15:17) The introduction of the no-bending-in-the-spirit-world rule.

(15:32) We get a good look at the mysterious light chasing Aang. It’s a dragon (Fang). This is quickly followed by our first look at Roku.

(16:28) Interestingly, Iroh is able to see Aang even when he’s travelling in the spirit world. Much like other things in Iroh’s backstory, this is never fully explained.

(16:44) Iroh might have left his sandal behind in faith that Zuko would be following, but he’s still going to attempt to free himself with some quality briar-patching. Of course his captors are willing to chain him tighter.

(17:06) Here we see Iroh heat his cuffs red-hot the same way he heated the springs he was bathing in. He’s showing us combat application of what he was trying to teach Zuko in the first episode - firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles. So he can still firebend effectively when he’s chained up and unable to use his muscles to their fullest extent. I feel pretty bad for this corporal, whose entire palm and fingers were pressed to red-hot metal for a few seconds. If anything, he’s not screaming enough. Iroh follows that up by startling the soldiers’ ostrich-horses and making a break for it, rather than attempting anything more lethal.

(17:18) Aang and Fang approach a volcanic island and a temple. The temple is five storeys. A lot of stonework and tiling, a lot of gold.

(17:40) So while we’re looking at this heavily gilded statue, I just want to raise one question - who ordered this temple built? Or, at the very least, who commissioned this statue of Roku, the dimensions of which must have been calculated with the uppermost room in mind?

Think about it. Roku was a known opponent of Fire Nation expansionism. Would the Fire Sages spend this much money or place a very expensive statue of the Fire Lord’s political opponent in a temple without the Fire Lord’s okay? As we’ll see in future episodes, they’re pretty involved with the state. Could Roku’s surviving family afford this? Would Azulon or Ozai fork out the cash? I also note that the statue is an accurate depiction of Roku in his latter years, so aside from this being done by a skilled artisan (and hence a $$$ artisan), someone who knew Roku well was involved in the design phase.

I think this temple might be a product of Sozin’s guilty conscience. I don’t think this conclusion was intended, but the show’s later depiction of Roku and Sozin’s relationship makes it an appealing post-hoc explanation.

(17:47) Fang spiritually transfers a bit more knowledge. In this case, Sozin’s Comet, bereft of context. It’s clearly bad, though!

(18:00) Bringing back the point about the solstice from earlier, we see a spot of sunlight approaching the face of the Roku statue. Fits with the exposition!

(18:50) Iroh is quickly recaptured, because he’s one chained-up guy trying to escape over dirt without killing anyone (let’s be real, Iroh could easily kill these guys), being followed by three earthbenders.

(19:07) Katara goes out looking for Aang and Sokka. Mostly, this is an excuse for -

(19:16) - Zuko to spot Appa. He knows that means the Avatar. But Appa’s flying one way, the tracks of the ostrich-horses are leading another, and Zuko has to choose.

(20:18) This week in “it’s really freaking hard to humanely contain benders”, the Earth Kingdom soldiers decide to crush Iroh’s hands. Given that Iroh barely used his hands and that the most significant injury he caused in that escape attempt was to someone’s hands...I’m thinking this is more retaliatory than anything.

(20:25) Zuko arrives to save the day, having chosen his love for his uncle over his quest (and, implictly, over his love for his father). It makes it easier to support Zuko and Iroh in this fight, especially after the hand-crushing thing. Unfortunately, as Azula will prove in season two, this isn’t a one-and-done decision.

Also, off to the right - is that a female Earth Kingdom soldier? I think it might be! The show is welcome to continue proving me wrong about female earthbenders in the background! (I mean, they’re still a tiny and voiceless minority, but there are more than I thought!)

(20:42) “You are clearly outnumbered!” “Ah, that’s true…but you are clearly outmatched.” Damn that’s a line. Especially since the fight bears that out. Iroh doesn’t even firebend, instead using his chains.

In one particularly noticeable shot, he uses the chains to redirect the momentum of a rock flying towards him. From what we’ve seen of Zuko and Zhao, this isn’t a technique firebenders use much. Even before we’re told Iroh learned from watching waterbenders, we’re shown that Iroh learned from watching waterbenders. This series knows how to do fight scenes - not just how to make them tense, but how to make them show character.

(21:23) After failing the previous evening, Aang is trying again. Good on him.

(22:07) Aang touches Hei Bai and learns/confirms that Hei Bai is the spirit of the forest, and says that now he understands. Hei Bai is angry because his home was burned down. So the war can have effects on the spirit world as well. It’s a two-way relationship.

(22:22) Aang offers Hei Bai an acorn. Hei Bai accepts it, and is appeased. So in the end, Aang didn’t have to fight after all. He could resolve the situation using his words. But that was only possible after he understood what was going on, and only after he had some real help to offer. The series is anti-war, but it doesn’t treat talking as a magical cure-all to conflict.

(22:58) “If only there were a way we could repay you for what you’ve done.” “You could give us some supplies and some money.” Ah, practicality. But again the sort of thing that helps to explain how the group are getting by day to day.

(23:24) We leave off with the hook for next episode, part two. Contacting Roku has to be done ASAP, but they have to go to the Fire Nation to do it. Sounds dangerous!

#a:tla #cw: violence #fine toothed comb edition

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 3]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: Nothing brings two friends together like a bit of grief with a side of daddy issues. (Mixed POV, includes flashbacks)

Warning(s): As the summary states, angst, grief and daddy issues, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of cancer, a few swear words, i think that’s it??? i use the word “smile” like 138407894 times i’m so sorry i hate noticing my crutch words

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry how long this took I honestly have no excuse, this chapter isn’t even that great but this is only two thirds of what I actually intended this part to be so GUESS WHAT I SPLIT IT UP!!!! the next part shouldn’t take too long (I say that but watch it’s gonna take like another year) and it’s gonna be super fluffy so DON’T Y’ALL WORRY IT’S GONNA BE FLUFF CENTRAL FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

WASHINGTON D.C., 2007

(Reader POV)

You had only been to D.C. a few times before to visit your dad, normally under happier circumstances, such as him getting sworn in for another term, but this time was not the case. You got the phone call from your mother the evening before when you quickly packed yours and Jamie’s bags for the flight that left later that night. The few hours you had spent in D.C. already felt like long days. You were physically and emotionally exhausted. Jamie had never been on a plane before and was grappling with the effects of jet lag.

You needed a bit of a pick-me-up yourself, so you ran over to a coffee shop for a bit of a change of scenery. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when you heard your name being called, but not by the barista making your drinks, but by a familiar voice that you had only heard over the phone for a couple of months since his last visit home. You turned around to face the source and locked eyes with Spencer.

“Hey!” You smiled, trying your best to not look like you had just had the longest 24 hours of your life.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say you were gonna be in town?”

“I didn’t know I was gonna be in town until last night!” Spencer could see right through you. He pursed his lips, not asking what was wrong yet, but still opting to check-in and make sure you’re okay.

“How are you feeling? Jet lagged?”

“Some profiler.” Your chuckle came out more annoyed than you would have liked it to.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just getting some coffee--”

“No, like, are you okay?” He knew something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid, quite the opposite, by a long shot.

“I’m fine, Spence,” you lied through your teeth.

“Then who isn’t?” Panic and worry flashed across his face, “Is Jamie okay?

“Yes! He’s fine!” You couldn’t help but smile at the relief Spencer displayed that your son was safe and well, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. You hesitated for a second before giving in and telling him why you seemed so off, “My dad’s sick in the hospital.”

“Oh! Do they know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yep. Stage 4 lung cancer.” Your dad had been a smoker for most of your life. He tried to quit after Jamie was born, but the damage had already been done.

Spencer looked genuinely heartbroken as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say next “Do you know how much time he has?”

“Couple of weeks if we’re lucky.”

His eyebrow furrowed and his golden eyes softened to an impossible degree, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This wasn’t sudden, we’ve been expecting it, but when the doctor says eight to twelve months, and you get through month eight, you start hoping it’s gonna be twelve.”

“Are you going back to the hospital now?”

“Yeah-”

“I’ll come with you!”

“Don’t you have work?”

“I don’t have to be there for another hour and,” he checks his watch, which was pulled over the sleeve of his dark gray cardigan, “fifty-six minutes.”

“The hospital’s out of the way and you hate being late.”

“I hate the thought of you going through this alone even more.” You tried to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling that gave you but ultimately failed. Those big brown eyes refused to stop studying your face, analyzing any signs that you needed him, which to be fair, you did.

“I’m not alone, I got Jamie and my mom.”

“Even more the reason for me to want to go with you.” He finally dropped the solemn frown and took up a bright smile instead. You swore his grin was contagious because, by the time you both got your coffees, you were smiling just as wide.

You drove back to the hospital in comfortable silence. Walking back to your father’s room felt easier with him by your side. Jamie looked up from his drawing as he saw you approach, beaming at you and his favorite federal agent.

“Doctor Spencer!” He came running up to him and hugging his legs.

“Hey, little man!” Spencer ruffled his hair and grinned down at the tiny human squeezing his arms around his thigh.

Your mother looked up from her book, “Doctor? Spencer? Wait. As in…”

“Yeah, mom.”

She stands and wraps him in a hug, “Oh my goodness, sweetheart, you got so big! You’re all grown up! Oh, and you’re cute, too!” She pinched his now pink cheek as his face twisted into a bashful smile, “Right, Y/N? Spencer got cute!”

Now you were blushing a little.

Why am I blushing? I don’t blush over Spencer!

You pursed your lips and looked him up and down. His striped tie was crooked under his cardigan. His long hair was a bit shaggy, as if he rolled out of bed, showered, and decided to go to work. You just laughed nervously as you met Spencer’s eyes. God, those eyes. “Yeah… I’d say so.”

“You definitely grew into your looks. Honey, this is Spencer. Remember the boy that used to tutor Y/N?”

“Oh, nice to finally meet you, son, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Your father shifted in his bed, managing to sit up slightly.

“You too, sir, I just wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“Don’t give me any of that ‘sir’ crap, I got enough of that working on the Hill,” your father chuckled but his hearty laugh quickly devolved into a coughing fit. Your mother sat back down on the bed next to him and fed him some ice chips to keep him hydrated.

“So, Spencer, Y/N says you work for the FBI now?” She turns her attention away from her husband and forces a smile.

“Yes! I do.”

You took a seat and sipped your coffee, “He was on the team that helped save Jamie, remember?”

“What division are you in?” Your dad asked.

“The Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“I got some buddies in the bureau, who’s your supervisor?”

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, I knew him in his prosecutor days. Helluva lawyer, he got some of my clients put away.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, they were guilty, weren’t they?”

Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket, “Speaking of which, I have to go. Got a case.”

“Go! Don’t be late!”

“Go catch the bad guy, Doctor Spencer!”

“Will do, Jamie.” He ruffled his hair before turning to your parents, “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, it was great seeing you.”

“Bye, sweetheart, don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll walk you out, return the favor.” You walked quietly with him.

“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be home from this, but I’ll let you know when I get back, and if you’re still here just give me a call, okay?”

“Of course, Spence. Now go catch the bad guy!” You grinned as you parroted your son’s words. He returned your smile and pulled you into a hug. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes, but you fought it off best you could. Spencer could still sense your pain and hugged you as tight as possible. You were the one to pull away first, patting his back and forcing your pursed lips into a smile. His phone started to ring shortly after.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

(Spencer’s POV)

The case went on for too long. Two whole weeks passed before we were able to come home from Minneapolis. A man was strangling women with short black hair between the ages 30-40 because they reminded him of his mother, it’s standard stuff, it should have been a pretty cut and dry case, but the guy was almost impossible to find, he was completely off the grid. It took Garcia days to just get us a name, let alone contact information. He killed two other women while we were there. One of them was a mother, she had three kids all under the age of 10. Cases like these were always tough, but Gideon had seen enough to talk us all through it. I still wasn’t used to him being gone.

I couldn’t get any sleep on the jet. The nightmares have been coming back with a vengeance since Gideon left. He was like a father to me, my protector, my mentor, and now I have no one.

That’s hyperbolic; I do have the team, and they miss him too, but I’m pretty much alone out on the field. I know I can go to them, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t like to rely on others because when they leave, I’m by myself.

Which is exactly why I am the only one awake on the jet home.

I suppose I wasn’t totally alone, I could call Y/N, but I wouldn’t wanna bother her if she was with her family. She only has so much time left with her dad. I took my phone out of my pocket anyway and saw a missed call from her last night, I hadn’t seen it before because of the case. If she wanted to talk she probably needed to, right?

I mulled it over in my head, and before I could even come to a decision, my fingers worked on autopilot, dialing the same number I had memorized years ago, and hit call.

Las Vegas, 1994

I picked up the book from the top of the pile she set down on the counter, “You’re reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, for class.”

“If you need any help with that, my mother was a classics professor, I’ve read most of Shakespeare’s works.”

“Really? That’s cool. I’ve read the basics in other classes, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, all that, but this one is definitely my favorite so far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I don’t know why, but the idea of falling in love with the wrong person just sorta… I dunno… resonates, I guess.”

“Yeah, same here.”

She snorted, “You’re like 12, how would you know about that?”

I bit my lip before explaining, “Reminds me of my parents. They loved each other at one point, obviously, but not enough to stop my dad from leaving us.”

She cringed to herself as if she realized some horrible mistake, “Jeez, I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Two years ago.”

“So it’s just been you and your mom?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at the pencil as she twisted it in between her fingers. Her eyes refused to meet mine. “My dad has worked in D.C. pretty much my whole life, and a lot of the time it was just my mom and me. He was always home for Christmas and birthdays, he came to all my recitals as a kid, but he was gone the rest of the year. I see him maybe… fifteen days out of the year?”

She finally looked up, if only for a second. Seeing her eyes, at last, I took note of the sadness behind them, “Which is fine, it’s better than nothing, but I don’t really have a dad the other 350 days of the year, you know? I could call him, but I don’t, it’s always ‘Sorry sweetheart, I’m a bit busy right now.’”

“Yeah, my dad was always too busy too.”

“I know our situations are still really different, and you probably already know this after two years, but it does get easier.”

Present Day

(Reader POV)

You click the button to answer the call, “Spencer?”

“Hey! We’re landing soon, you still in D.C.?” His voice is scratchy like he had just woken up, or like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a couple of hours.

“Y-yeah! I’m still staying with my mom.”

“How’s your dad?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to, your silence answered his question well enough.

“Oh, shit…” Spencer groaned, “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago?”

“Last week, the funeral was yesterday.” You could hear him grimace over the phone.

“Y/N I am… so sorry I couldn’t be there for you—”

“Don’t be! You had to work, it’s okay, Spencer.”

“I should have called sooner.”

You almost laughed at his tone, “Spencer, you were catching a serial killer, it’s not your responsibility to make sure I’m okay.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. I’m fine.”

“How’s Jamie, god, how’s your mother?”

“She’s holding up. I’m helping her out for a while, I don’t want her to be in this house alone.” You decided to leave out the part about you putting a downpayment on an apartment a couple of blocks away from your mother’s house for now.

“How’s Jamie doing?” He asked with perfect timing as Jamie flopped onto the couch behind you.

“Wanna talk to him? He’s right here.”

“Can I? Please?”

“Jamie, baby, wanna talk to Doctor Spencer?” He didn’t even say yes before he leaped up from his seat and grabbed the phone from your hand.

“Hi, Doc!”

“Hey, little man! How’s it going? How are you?” You could still hear his excited voice even though it was nowhere near your ear anymore. It brought a smile to your face as you saw Jamie light up at the sound of your friend on the other side of the call.

“I’m okay. Did you catch the bad guy?”

“Yes, Jamie, we got him. How’s your mom?”

“She’s saying she’s fine, but she’s still really sad.”

“Well, can you put her back on with me?” Jamie hands the phone back to you and runs off to return to his coloring book and crayons.

You sighed before putting the phone back to your ear, “Don’t worry about me, Spence—”

“Come to the BAU.”

He said the words so fast you almost needed him to repeat it, “What?”

“I mean it, I’ll call you when we land, come visit. Bring Jamie and your mom.”

“Won’t you have a ton of work to do when you land?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I did all my paperwork on the jet.”

“Spencer—”

“Please. I need to see you guys.” He was practically begging. It tugged at your heart in a familiar way, but there was a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t place.

“What happened on the case?”

He sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just come in like, an hour.”

You tried to lighten the mood just a little bit, “My mom’s been obsessively baking, want us to bring you your favorite?”

“Did she make her famous oatmeal cookies?” You could almost see his face and the way his brown eyes lit up, even while he was on a plane hours away.

The image brought a soft smile to your face and sparked a tiny bit of light in your heart, “Yep!”

“Y/N L/N, if you bring me some, I will be forever indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Doctor Reid.”

Security waved you through to the elevator, Spencer had cleared you for entry already. One guard hit the button for the sixth floor and sent you up, one hand holding Jamie’s and the other holding a Tupperware of your mom’s cookies. When the doors opened, you saw the entrance to the bullpen, desks filled with paperwork, and busy agents trying to get it all done. As the three of you crept through the hall to the glass doors, your eyes locked onto Spencer, who was sprawled out in his office chair with a thick book, legs propped up on his desk, and glasses balanced on the ridge of his nose.

“Hi! Who are you here to see?” A chipper blonde with purple cat eyeglasses and curly ponytails waved at you from down the hall.

“Spencer Reid?”

“Oh! He mentioned he’d have visitors, you must be Y/N! I’m Penelope.”

“That’s a pretty name!” Jamie beamed up to the woman, who clutched a hand over her heart and returned his smile.

“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart! What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Jamie!”

“Oh you are just precious, he is precious, Y/N, good kid.”

You laughed at the pair’s enthusiasm, “Thank you, can we just go straight in?”

“Yep! Go ahead!”

You walked up to his desk and placed the cookies next to his computer, pulling his attention away from his book. He turned to look up at you, closing the book and throwing it where his feet rested before he jumped up to wrap his arms around you. Jamie hugged his leg and your mother pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, how are you guys doing?”

“Spencer, we’re fine.”

He didn’t say anything, just examined your face for any sign of a lie. The frustration on his face said he didn’t find one.

“Stop profiling me, I’m okay.”

“Mommy, can I have a cookie now?” Jamie eyed the container like a hawk; he shared Spencer’s love of oatmeal cookies, especially from your mom.

“Right! You brought your cookies, thank you so much, Mrs. L/N.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, honey, you can call me by my first name.”

“No, I absolutely cannot,” he laughed.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and saw the woman who hugged you while you cried when you thought your son was gone: JJ.

“Hi! Good to see you again!” You brought her in for a hug while Spencer continued to catch up with Jamie and your mom.

“You too! Jamie got so big!”

“Yeah, he’s starting 3rd grade soon!” You reached around to ruffle Jamie’s hair.

“When does he start?”

“A few weeks! We gotta go back to school shopping!”

“Ooh, that’s exciting! So you’re heading home soon?”

“Um…” You glanced at Spencer and your mom, who was pestering him about whether or not he had a girlfriend, “Actually, I just thought it would be best for us to stay close to my mom. Jamie likes it here, so we’re actually going to be moving here before school starts.”

“A new school! Are you excited, Jamie?”

“Yeah!”

Spencer, still a blushing mess thanks to your mother’s nosiness, sputtered out “Uh… Excited for what?”

“To move to D.C.!” You raised your hands in a little “Surprise!” motion.

“W-what?” He couldn’t stop himself from looking delighted even if he tried.

“We’re moving here to stay close to my mom.”

“She’s been such a good help,” she gestured to the cookies, half gone over the course of the conversation, “I’m not really ready to give her up just yet.”

“Spence, you should show her around!” JJ’s face had an unreadable look, but I guess that’s what profilers are for “Take her sightseeing. Jamie, have you been to the Washington Monument yet?”

“Nope! Doctor Spencer, can you take us?”

“Sure, little man, you want your mom and grandma to come with?”

“Yes!”

Spencer grinned at him, ruffling his curls before smiling at you. His eyes were scrunched into thin lines from his cheeks, but there was still something behind them. Something you couldn’t quite read. His smile softened slightly and you finally got a clear view of his hazel eyes. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but Jamie cut him off again.

“Ooh! Ooh! Can we go to the Smithsonian?”

“Oh, honey, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that,” JJ joked.

“The kid knows everything, you’ll be there for hours,” a deep voice said behind you.

“Morgan!” You smiled and stretched your arms out to hug him.

“Good to see you again, Y/N.”

When you turned back to Spencer, his warm grin was gone, replaced by a glare directed at Morgan. Had something happened with them? Last you heard they were best friends. Maybe that’s what happened on the case? Maybe that’s why he was so upset on the phone? Whatever it was had to be bad because he barely spoke for the rest of the visit.

A few weeks later, after you were all moved into your new apartment and Jamie was settled into his new school, you called Spencer. He owed you a trip to the Washington Monument. On your little day trip, there was no such thing as silence. Even in the quiet museum, Spencer’s voice filled the air, spewing facts about the monument, the memorial, the exhibits, and everything in between. Jamie loved to learn, so he hung onto every word that he heard.

“Plans for the monument’s development actually started in 1783, before Washington was even elected president. D.C. wasn’t even the capital of the country yet. Washington was actually against the monument because he didn’t want to use public funds for it, but after his death, Congress wanted to build him a mausoleum--”

You didn’t mind the rants. You still loved to listen to him ramble. Even if you didn’t understand what he was talking about sometimes, the sound of his voice was just soothing, especially after the stress of moving across the country.

Jamie got tired after walking around all day after the tour of the National Museum of Natural History and the Washington Monument, so your mom offered to take him home. You planted a kiss to his forehead and ruffled his hair, hugging your mom goodbye as Spencer high fived him and waved as they went off in the direction of home.

“You know, you didn’t have to stay with me. If you wanna go home too, you can.”

“No. I wanna stay with you.”

A small smile crept across his lips, blush rising to his cheeks. He bit his lips and looked down at his feet as he started walking off to the next stop on his little tour.

“Where to now, Doc?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, tell me, tell me!”

“No, ‘cuz then it’s not a surprise!”

“I’m aware of the definition of surprise, you don’t need to have an eidetic memory to know that.” You would just have to rely on your less refined profiling skills to figure out where you were going. You were on foot, so it couldn’t be too far.

“Why aren’t we taking a cab?”

“Because I wanna walk with you.”

Just hail a cab, it takes way less time than--

Oh.

You walked side by side for the remainder of the distance. He did most of the talking, telling you stories about the team. You took notice of the softness in his voice when he talked about Morgan. He wasn’t bitter anymore.

“--And then Garcia answered the phone.”

“Oh, god, what’d she say?”

“‘Talk dirty to me.’”

“No!”

“Yep!”

“She said that to your boss.”

“Morgan was mortified, you should have seen his face.”

You looked at him while he grinned at the memory. It was the most at peace you’d seen him in… well, a while.

“So… you guys are cool now?”

The peace was replaced with confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your pace faltered, but you kept walking, “Didn’t you guys…? Weren’t you fighting?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

You pursed your lips and furrowed your brows, “No reason.”

Why else would he have been mad at Morgan when I went to visit? You thought, There’s no other reason! Unless…

Oh--

“We’re here!” Spencer stopped in his tracks, looking up at a large white structure with tall windows and stone carvings decorating the walls. You turned and saw the sign out front that read: “Folger Shakespeare Library.”

“Spencer…” You gaped at the sign, a small, awe-filled smile tugging at your lips.

“I remembered how much you loved Shakespeare in school, I thought you’d get a kick out of this.”

“Spencer, this is… This is wonderful!”

“Good surprise?”

“Great surprise!”

You grabbed him by the arm and tugged him up the front steps as he digs through his pockets for his wallet. Once inside, he bought two tickets for the next show: Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite. It didn’t start for another half hour, so he led you to the reading room.

The room was beautiful, to put it lightly. Three ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The furniture and accents were all done in a dark wood, shelves packed tightly with books. The setting sun shone through the breathtaking stained glass windows. An unlit fireplace rested against the wall. Spencer led you up to the second level, a balcony wrapping around the border of the room.

“Thank you for today,” you beamed, “I haven’t seen Jamie that happy since…”

“I know the feeling. I haven’t felt this okay since…” His gaze dropped to his feet, trying to swallow the words that came out too soon.

“Since what?”

“Since uh...” He glanced back up to your face, “Since Gideon left the team.”

Spencer never told you he left. Agent Gideon kept tabs on Jamie after his rescue. For the last three years, he got a card in the mail on Christmas and his birthday. He always checked in and asked how he was doing. When you went to visit Spencer at the BAU a few weeks ago, you wanted to say hi to Agent Gideon and thank him for his consideration, but you hadn’t seen him. You thought he was just taking a personal day, he worked too hard anyways from what Spencer told you.

“Spence, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

The words were like a spark that shocked your heart awake from a lovely sleep, and now it was upset to be so rudely awoken, “Of course I care! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t wanna know the reason you’ve been so… off.”

“What do you mean ‘off?’”

“You don’t have to be a profiler to see you haven’t been yourself in… when did Gideon leave?”

He played with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater and looked back down at his feet, the toe of his converse nudging at the emerald green carpet, “Couple of months ago.”

“You could have told me.”

“You’ve had your own stuff going on. It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have to convince yourself that you aren’t having a hard time just because I am. You don’t always have to be the hero.”

“Neither do you, you know.”

“I really am fine.”

“Y/N, he was your dad, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“I am, okay?” You snapped, “I miss him like hell! He was always just one phone call away and now…” One hand carded through your hair as you inhaled deeply, placing your other hand on the banister beside you to steady yourself.

“I’m not going to pretend that our situations are the same because they aren’t, but I’ll tell you the same thing you told me when we were kids.” He placed his hand close to yours on the banister, your fingers almost touching. Almost. “It gets easier, not seeing him every day. But just ‘cuz he wasn’t around doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad.”

You force a smile, “Thanks, Spence.”

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. The hug wasn’t particularly emotional. Neither one of you felt like you were about to cry, it just felt nice to be in each other's embrace.

“Show’s starting soon.” He muttered into your ear before pulling away, walking off towards the theater with you following close behind.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler smut #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #CM #cm fan fiction #cm imagine

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ofcowardiceandkings · 3 years

Note

I think you mentioned listening to podcasts? Do you have any favorites to reccommend? I've run out of content :(

that i do !

im not entirely sure what kind of podcast you'd be interested in but i'll throw out a few of the goodies in my huge library of stuff , i'll miss out a few of the HUGE podcasts that have been all over tumblr though

a LOT of it is true crime or human interest stuff , or history because im nerd ,, and a few of these dont have nearly enough attention so [shrug] i'll try to keep this short i guess lol this isnt EVERYTHING ive got in my library or listened series' by any measure

i AM gonna pop a shout to both Stuff You Missed in History Class and Stuff You Should Know from iHeartRadio because their HUGE archives have kept me from losing my mind many times over , and they cover a wide range of both important and wacky topics

BomBARDed (ongoing) this is the only fiction podcast i have happening right now really but its DAMN GOOD ONE .... it's an actual-play D&D 5E podcast in the DMs own musically-inspired world, focussed on a group of multiclass bards going to music school !! and all players (+DM) are members of the Texas band Lindby !! and they actually use and play music in the show with one original song an episode !! Kyle's worldbuilding and storycraft are truly incredible, and (Nick) Goodrich, (also Nick) Spurrier, and Ali's characters are in depth and interesting as well as an absolute powerhouse :') i actually made a piece for its first fanzine, Bardic Dreaming, which published earlier this year and is free to view now, all the players and the community are super wholesome its just very good overall 💙

History & Humans;

Fall of Civilisations (ongoing) legit one of my favourite podcast finds, im so glad my youtube autoplayed one of these ... it took me like 2 hours to realise it was 1) not the same as what was playing before and 2) had been on for 2 hours and wasnt near finished lmao. anyway, this is a series by historical fiction writer Paul Cooper, and is honest to all thats good one of the best documentary series ive encountered in years - and ive consumed a LOT of documentaries. it covered the downfall of various civilisations through history, and the episodes run from an hour to FOUR hours depending on the topic. its so chill to listen to and just get done, but over the pandemic all of the episodes have been given full movie-quality video versions too on youtube if youre more of a visual person.

Casting Lots: A Survival Cannibalism Podcast (on series break) yeah that says that lol ... its a SUPER niche topic but its very interesting and treated very well despite being kind of comical at times, the hosts are just naturally funny lol ... it delves around from the history of cannibalism in whole regions to specific incidents as recently as the 1970s, and of course the first episode is about the Donner Party, and it covers things ive never heard of despite being kind of important ?? anyway Alix and Carmella are good eggs

Sawbones (ongoing) i probably dont need to mention much here other than say that Justin and Sydnee saved me from being SO BORED sooo often, the history of medicine is wacky as hell and its what most of my history GCSE was on so [shrugs]

Cautionary Tales (on series break) this was a wild-card find lol ... it's by Tim Harford "the undercover economist" who writes for the Financial Times, and its topics kind of weave modern topics and science with how to learn from historical errors ... its a bit weird but well worth a go, also each series has a few celebrity guest voice actors which is pretty awesome

Ephemeral (ongoing) this is a very strange but thought provoking series about sounds and other things just barely saved. topics include the last castrato, the hello girls, hand-stamped records, the spread of kīkā kila music, and acoustic fossils of wild places.

Neat! The Boozecast (ongoing) history and bartending whats not to like lol ... hosted by Teylor Smirl and now their dad Tommy, they're just digging around in how important booze is to human culture

True Crime (white collar and weirdness);

Swindled (ongoing) this is an amazing show full stop. A Concerned Citizen details some of the most impactful and unruly things to happen in white collar and corporate crime. very factually accurate but given the sheer bullshit of the topics the deadpan snarking is [chefs kiss] absolutely warranted ..

American Scandal (on series break) this one is a series within a series type, and spends a few episodes at a time poking holes in some of America's biggest scandals, from a dramatised but fact-based point of view. such as what the hell was going on with Enron, how big tobacco was forced to own up to covering its own ass, how Iran-Contra happened, etc. it also now has a sister show called British Scandal, which does the same thing for British cases but with a slightly different format.

Missing in Alaska (finished) this was a fascinating series, a deep dive into what happened to two US government officials who disappeared on a small chartered flight in Alaska in 1972. it goes some really strange places, but it actually turned up a lot of previously unknown information through the audience. John Walczak's new series in a new feed is Missing on 9/11 which looks into what happened to Dr Sneha Philip.

Pretend (ongoing) Host Javier Leiva holds interviews with anyone living a lie, or who have been touched by them. con artists, snake oil salesmen, former cult members, catfishing victims, anyone and everyone.

Power: The Maxwells (finished) hosted by journalist Tara Palmeri, the story of media tycoon Robert Maxwell from nothing to empire to mysterious death and the scandals uncovered after he was gone.

Lets Talk About Sects (ongoing) Sarah Steele covering cults from around the world, in particular those in Australia - where she is from. She often has former members on the show to share their stories, and share knowledge of how they left. each story has the relevant content warnings at the start of each episode.

Brainwashed (finished) investigation of the CIA's covert mind control experiments, centred on the experiments performed at a hospital in Montreal, and its cultural impact.

Dr Death (2 series finished) two series investigating huge cases of fraud and medical malpractice, and how they were brought to a stop. series 1 covers Dr Duntsch and his horribly butchered neurosurgery, series 2 covers Dr Fata and his fraudulent cancer clinic

The Immaculate Deception (finished) untangling the weird and disturbing fertility fraud of Dr Jan Karbaat, who fathered children himself through his fertility clinic, and the impact of his deception. later episodes also touch on other similar cases.

True Crime (Violent/General);

The Casual Criminalist (ongoing) Simon Whistler of-the-many-youtube-channels cold reads a script about the case of the day, with some of his daft commentary thrown in.

Southern Fried True Crime (ongoing) Crimes from the American South hosted by Erica Kelley, she puts all the facts out there but refreshingly for true crime she doesnt hesitate to tell you if she thinks someone is human garbage lol

They Walk Among Us (ongoing) probably one of the most popular UK crime podcasts, very measured and well put together, not weird or annoying about it either.

All Crime No Cattle (ongoing, feed slowed down for now) specifically about crimes from Texas, hosted by Erin and Shay, they're very sensitive hosts and a lot of the cases they cover shed light on why the Texas criminal system is how it is or show an impact at a national level

Canadian True Crime (ongoing) Canadian crime from an Aussie who's lived there for a decade, Kristi is again a sensitive and measured host covering some important topics

True Crime (Violent/Deep Dive);

Hitman (finished) journalist Jasmyn Morris digs around in the sticky tangle around a book published by fringe publisher Paladin Press, and its apparent use as a blueprint in the killing of a mother, her friend and her 8 year old boy for financial gain.

Camp Hell: Anneewakee (ongoing) this series is exploring how a wilderness camp "correctional facility" was endorsed by the Georgia care and juvenile reform system, despite widespread abuses and shady practices the whole time. warning for csa and child cruelty throughout.

True Crime Bullshit (on series break) this one is a huge huge rabbithole but a very interesting one where the host Josh Hallmark has spent years digging into the life and potential crimes of Israel Keyes. Keyes is often mentioned as a serial killer with no pattern, but in picking it apart thats not quite true, and has sparked some re-evaluations of missing persons cases and stumbling upon information the FBI has redacted organically. there's also a series in the middle looking into the crimes of Kelly Cochran

Forgotten: Women of Juárez (finished) this series looks into the huge numbers of missing women of Ciudad Juárez, the strange circumstances surrounding them, and the potential cover-ups and corruptions on both sides of the border, trying to give a voice to all of the forgotten women and girls and their families without answers. the series itself is finished, but a spanish language edition is being released every week now.

aaaaaand i'll call it there before i list everything lol, i hope you find something to plug your boredom hole with !!

#audio #rory's ramblings #podcasts #asks #anon #long post

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captain-sparklefingers · 3 years

Text

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Billy Batson / Shazam FACECLAIM: Alberto Rosende / Zachary Levi AFFILIATIONS: Nomads AGE: 26 SPECIES: Metahuman IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? Secret IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION? Bar singer DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? Yes, he does, and he’s a farmer

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

+Kind Hearted: One of the reasons why he decided to use his powers for good, was exactly because of that. He hated seeing people suffering, he could have not known what to do with them in the beginning, but when he learned, he promised himself he would do everything in his power to protect others.

+Selfless: sometimes some would say he was even a little too much. He tended to always put other people's lives first. Luckily, when he was Shazam, that got him into less trouble, perks of having powers, but when he was a mere human, anyone could hurt him, which happened before.

+Loyal: he takes a long time to trust you, but when he does, he almost turns into a dog. He wouldn't ever betray you, would be by your side until your dying day. He would protect you no matter what. You could call him at 3 am saying that you're feeling sad and down, that he would go running to your place to cheer you up.

- Impulsive: he had gone to the field many times without a plan before, because the only thing he could think about when he saw someone in trouble, was that he needed to save the person. When he was the big guy, he tended to have a lot of wisdom, the same couldn't be said when he was just Billy. Despite being an adult, only four years away from his thirties, he wasn't the wisest on some occasions. But some have said that he could give some pretty good advices sometimes.

- Paranoid: when he starts to like someone, he tends to already start to imagine them leaving him, not wanting to have him in their lives anymore. His head starts to scream for him to run, so he doesn't get hurt, that little voice always shows up when he's already terrified of losing someone. He learned to deal with that, not let that control his actions, even if a lot of times, that little voice is still there, in the corner of his mind.

- Closed off: he hides how he feels 90% of the time, mostly negative feelings, because the happy ones, he tends to want to scream to the world, with the exception of love, which is extremely hard for him to talk about, especially to the person that he feels that toward. He took so long to tell his ex how he felt, actually he was only brave enough to do it when she said it first. But it wasn't just when he felt it romantically, platonic love was hard too, just not as much as the former.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES:

Wisdom of Solomon: Due to Solomon's blessings, Shazam has instant access to a vast level of scholarly knowledge. Billy describes this ability as a feeling and a moral compass.

Powers related to the above:

Clairvoyance: The wisdom of Solomon gives Billy clairvoyance and provides him with counsel and advice in times of need.

Divine Grace: Billy has the wisdom of Solomon which allows finesse in actions and dealings with others.

Eidetic Memory: Through Solomon's wisdom, Batson is capable of memorizing anything he sees.

Tactics of War: Through Solomon's blessings, Billy is an accomplished tactician.

Mathematics: Through Solomon's blessings, Billy is an accomplished mathematician.

Multilingualism: Through Solomon's wisdom, Shazam can speak any language when transformed. He has been shown to speak decent Arabic and Japanese.

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Strength of Hercules: With the blessings of Hercules, Billy's strength is greatly increased. He is able to crack concrete, bend steel, and could even fight toe-to-toe with Superman.

Powers related with the above:

Super-Leaping: With Hercules's blessing, Billy is able to use his strong leg muscles to leap far distances in a single bound.

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Stamina of Atlas: With the blessings of Atlas, Billy canendure great physical exertion without tiring while in his empowered form.

Powers related to the above:

Self-Sustenance: Because of Atlas' blessings, Shazam is able to survive without food, water or any other sort of sustenance while in his empowered form.

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Power of Zeus: Zeus' power, besides fueling the magic thunderbolt that transforms Billy, also enhances his other physical abilities and allows for inter-dimensional travel and the casting of various mystical spells. Most notably, this power allows Shazam to manipulate and control the "living lightning".

Powers related to the above

Accelerated Healing: He displayed the ability to use the transformative lightning to heal others or himself instantly from wounds inflicted on his mortal form.

Dimensional Travel: Shazam can access the Rock of Eternity whenever he wants, which sits at the center of the Multiverse. Shazam was also able to forcibly transport the Wizard to the Rock of Eternity through a bolt of his lightning.

Electrokinesis: Shazam is able to generate and manipulate the "living lightning", which is the magical lightning that transforms him into Shazam. He can project the energy from his fingertips and even use the lightning bolt as a weapon by dodging it and allowing it to strike an opponent or other target.

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Magic: As the wielder of Shazam's power, Billy is capable of casting magic spells for various purposes. While originally not well-versed in magic, Billy eventually learned to cast precise spells from the Book of Champions.

Powers related to the above

Power Distribution: As Shazam, Billy can share a portion of his magical powers with anyone akin to family that he so chooses, giving both similar and different powers of their own based on their personalities. The Wizard considers this "sharing spell" the greatest of Billy's powers.

Size Alteration: Shazam has used a spell to shrink down to the size of Mister Mind, in order to fight him inside his father's head.

Summoning: By saying "Ala-Ka-Zamm!" Shazam was able to summon a ping-pong table into the Justice League Headquarters.

Thermal-Blast: Through a spell, Shazam was able to ignite a blast of Superboy-Prime's ice breath into flames, and redirect the blast at him.

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Courage of Achilles: This aspect is physical and partly psychological, and gives Billy superhuman amounts of inner strength to draw off from, while also making him indestructible to harm. Bullets have no effect on Billy, and conventional weaponry does nothing to his physical body as well. Only the most powerful of superhumans can topple him. He withstood a punch from an enraged Superman without any noticeable pain and injury afterwards.

Powers related to the above

Indomitable Will: Because of Achilles', blessing Shazam is very strong willed in his actions.

Immortality: As long as he remains in his empowered form he doesn't age

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Speed of Mercury: With the blessings of Mercury, Billy can run as fast as a bolt of lightning, this means Billy can at least run a third of the speed of light.

Powers related to the above

Flight: With Mercury's blessing, Billy is able to hover or out right fly at high speeds.

Superhuman Reflexes: Shazam's reflexes are heightened to superhuman levels.

WEAKNESSES:

Vocal reliance: The spell that allows Billy to transform into Shazam is purely vocal. Therefore, if he is prevented from speaking, such as being gagged, he will not be able to transform.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA? He moved from his hometown, because he thought that Sokovia needed help. He saw everything that was going on, and thought that maybe they needed a little hand. It was a hard decision, because he would be far from his family, but knowing he would have people he was close to there, he felt a little more at ease, he wouldn’t be alone. DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT? No, and is shocked by the vigilantes that did, especially Clark. He doesn’t see why anyone would agree with such thing, it was so clear to him that it was some kind of plan Lex created to take over the world. He didn’t trust him. PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

Music is his passion, and he even thought about making a career out of it, but decided against. If people paid more attention to him, would make things harder, so he went for a job that had to do it with, but that he wouldn't get famous over it.

He always wanted pets, but never adopted one because his fear of them getting hurt because of him and his fighting crime job, was bigger.

He also loves dancing, and he is good at it. There are some occasions that he gets really shy, but dancing and singing, are not one of them. He finds so easy to move his hips.

Sometimes he stands on the bed while listening to music, and play air guitars and drums. He had been caught doing it before, many times by his adoptive parents and family.

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS:

People he joined forces for a mission: vigilantes are always running into each other, so he probably bumped on more than a few of them while working before the accords, and joined forces to stop whatever threat that was going on.

People he met in college: this one probably gonna be a little harder, but if your character has the same age as him or close, maybe they could have met when he was in college.

People that watched one of his gigs: even before going to Sokovia, he played and sang in a bar, so if they lived in Fawcett City or visited it, maybe they could have watched he sing?

CHARACTER BIO — tw alcoholism, vomit, death

Sometimes people that are parents, shouldn’t have become one. Billy Batson was born in Fawcett City, he never met his dad, because he left before the boy was born, so growing up without a dad was already hard, on top of that, his mother was not the greatest one. She drank, a lot. He had seen many times her either sleeping on the couch, with a bunch of empty bottles on the floor, or in the bathroom throwing up. It was hard to deal with it, he was just a kid, he was supposed to be enjoying his childhood, instead he had to take care of a woman that didn’t know when to stop. He had to be an adult, while his friends were outside playing.

She was a mess, which was why no one was surprised when her son was taken away from her and placed in an orphanage. Not that he was that thrilled about it, but he could finally rest. It was exhausting having to look after his mom, many times he had to clean her vomit off her bed or the floor. Maybe he could finally be a kid. He was lucky to be part of an orphanage filled with lovely people. Not all of them were like that, but the staff, they treated him well, however, he didn’t feel like they were a family. Speaking of it, took him a long time to find one that wanted to keep him. He went to one foster house to another, no one wanted him. Couples usually adopted a kid with this perfect image of a family in their head, and Billy just wasn’t the kind of kid that fit into that narrative. He was constantly getting himself into trouble, and running away from their home. He was a problematic kid, because staying 8 years in a home like the one he grew up in, scarred him. He got better as he got older, but it took him to finally find a loving family, and until nowadays, he had to deal with the aftermath of the things he had to face as a kid.

No one was ready to deal with him, so usually they gave up, except for one family. The moment that he met the Vasquez family, he could already notice that there was something different about them, the other families were also sweet at first, sure, but they were different, he could feel just how much they seemed to love him already, and since they had 5 other kids that they also adopted, it was hard to see them as bad people, still, the mere thought of them disappointing him, made him try to run away. It was in that day, that his life would stop being ordinary.

One moment he was in a subway, in the other he was in some kind of cave. He thought that he was dreaming for a moment, who would think that something like that was possible? Especially since there was a wizard there who gave him powers and told him that he was the chosen one. In a blink of an eye, he was an adult, or at least seemed to be in the body of one. After getting out of that cave, he started to freak out, talking out loud to no one in particular, mumbling about how on earth was he supposed to fix this? And why the heck it had to happen to him from all the people in that city? He knew that he would need someone’s help, and the first person that came to mind was Freddy.

Despite the fact that he was planning to run away and never look back, he knew that the boy would help him without hesitating, and for his delight, he did. It was hard to find out how he could go back to his fourteen year old self, but eventually they did. It was so simple, all he had to do was yell the same name that he had to yell in the cave, and shortly after, he was back to his normal self. That didn’t really take away his powers, he could go back to being Shazam at any moment he wanted, so he stayed in the Vasquez home, and his new foster brother helped him to train.

It wasn’t easy, and honestly, he was clearly not ready to be a hero, but he had to be, there was an evil man that he needed to defeat, he was strong. At first he didn’t want to, he didn’t think he would win, he was scared to die, but the moment that he threatened his new family, which after some time really grew on him, it awoke something in him, but the guy was stronger, he would need help. He had to give his siblings powers, the same way that the wizard did to him, together they were unstoppable. They were able to stop Sivana.

After that, Billy’s vigilante duty didn’t end, he continued it, and so did his siblings. Many threats came, and they stopped them all, they were making the world a better place. They could not be capable of changing the whole world, but a small part was still something. As time passed by, Billy had to juggle his secret life with his social and academic one. Found himself a girlfriend, finished high school, started college. It wasn’t an easy task, but he refused to give up of his mundane life or his vigilante one. He continued, and after some time he successfully graduated in music. He found a job in that area, a small little bar that needed a singer for the band that played there.

He had a girlfriend, a job he loved, and a family that were always there for him, not to mention plenty of friends that he never thought he would be able to even meet. Three big heroes that clearly adored him, Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman. Not only he could call them friends, but they were one of the biggest reasons why he had the strength to continue, he met Superman when he was only fourteen and still new to the whole hero thing, he guided him, the three of them did. They taught him so much, he felt like he owes them for the rest of his life, they were his second family.

His life could not have been the best, but at that moment in his life, he could say that it was almost perfect. It had downs like anyone else’s life, like when his best friend died, because he was in the wrong time, in the wrong place, Billy blamed himself for it, as he passed because the bullets that ricocheted him, went straight to the other boy. He learned to deal with the guilt, but there were many days that he still thinks about it, and if it was really his fault. Another thing that he blames himself for, was the end of his relationship, wonders if it could have lasted if he was a better boyfriend.

Things slowly started to get better, but like mentioned, life had many downs. What happened in Sokovia, the accords, it definitely affected him in such a huge way. Not just because he didn’t think that it was fair, but because he found out that one of the people that he trusted the most, Clark Kent, signed it. It infuriated him, how could he do such thing?! He thought he knew him, but apparently he didn’t.

He stayed months trying to decide whether he would move there or not, one more hero is never a bad thing. No matter how dangerous the situation was, he was willing to take the risk. He texted both Bruce and Diana almost daily, both because he missed them, and because he wanted to make sure they were safe and sound. He was still mad at Clark, but he still cared about him, he thought about texting him, he wrote a variety of them, but never sent it.

Months later, he finally decided that he should move, it would be hard to be away from his family, but he knew this was for a greater good, he had to be strong, so in 2018, he packed his things, and went to Sokovia. Without thinking twice, he became a member of the group that they were calling the Nomads, it was time to save that city.

#bio #srisingintro #tw death #tw vomit #tw alchoholism

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brywrites · 4 years

Text

Flight Risk V

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part V: In which important words are shared in a bookstore and on a plane.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous | Next )

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She arrives slightly out of breath to the bookstore-café. “Sorry, it’s really not like me to be late!”

Reid offers her a smile as she jumps into the order line beside him. “It’s okay, I know.”

“Yeeqin locked herself out of the apartment again so I had to run back to open it for her,” she sighs, shaking her head. A soft flush colors her cheeks and he’s not sure whether it’s from running or from embarrassment. Or perhaps she too is as nervous as he is to be meeting here. Because this means stepping over some sort of unspoken line, it means something more real. Whatever it is. Reid still isn’t sure what this is, but he knows that there is something about her smile that makes his chest tighten and that there are few people he looks forward to talking to as much as Y/N.

He realizes that aside from that evening in the hotel lobby, he’s never seen her wearing something other than her pilot’s uniform. She sits before him in a floral-print sundress and a bomber jacket that is ever so slightly askew, exposing the skin of her left shoulder.

“Yeeqin is your roommate?” he asks.

“Yeah. And I love her to bits, but I swear even though I’m the pilot, she’s the one whose head is always in the clouds.” And it strikes him that for someone who loves the sky so much, Y/N is incredibly down-to-earth. “But enough about me,” she laughs. “How are you doing, Doctor?”

Her use of his title always seems to make his heartbeat quicken no matter how many times he tries to ignore it. “I’m good. Really good. It’s, uh, nice to be able to see you without there being a case.”

“It is nice, isn’t it? Knowing that talking with you doesn’t mean someone is in imminent danger. I can feel a lot less guilty about enjoying it.” He wants so badly to ask what she means by that – if she enjoys seeing him the way friends do, or if she enjoys being with him a little bit more than that – but he’s too afraid to know the answer. Afraid it might be less and he’ll feel disappointed. Afraid it might be more and he won’t be – because what is he even hoping for here? What is he supposed to be hoping for, if anything at all?

They order drinks – a mocha with he pours far too much sugar into, and chai latte she carefully sprinkles cinnamon in. They walk through the bookstacks together, drinks in hand, browsing and chatting as they go. She tells him how she fell in love with The Little Prince as a child and how she found the idea of being a pilot fascinating, even then. He tells her about the books his mother used to read to him when he was little, Medieval texts and Proust and The Canterbury Tales.

“That’s pretty intense reading for a kid,” she says.

“Well I can read 20,000 words per minute. And the eidetic memory helps.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Right, our certified genius. You know I’m jealous. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough time to read all the things I want to read. But you? You can read anything you want.”

“These days it’s mostly casefiles,” he says ruefully.

“Good thing we’re here then. We’ll have to find you some lighter words to keep in that beautiful brain of yours.”

It’s so easy with her. He finds himself telling her about his mother, about how she used to be a professor of literature until her disease got worse. And when he explains she has schizophrenia, she doesn’t give him a look of pity. As if he’s broken somehow. Her eyes soften and she says, “It has to be hard, caring for a parent. You must love her a lot. And I’m sure she’s really proud to have a son like you to carry on all her best stories.”

She tells him how her parents weren’t exactly thrilled with her choice of career, but how she’s certain there’s nothing else that would make her as happy as flying, and how for two months after she moved to DC her only friends in the city were her cat, Amelia, and Yeeqin because she traveled too much for work to put down roots. “I guess at some point you have to decide whether you want adventure or stability, and I think I’m always trying to walk that line. I’m not ready to give up what I love, but I don’t want to let everything else in life pass me by, you know?”

And he does. He knows that the longer he’s at the BAU the more unlikely it is he’ll have the time to teach, to build a family, to pursue other dreams. But at the same time there’s something about the work he just doesn’t know how to step away from.

They sit in chairs in the travel section while she opens a book of maps to point out some of her favorite places she’s flown to, and the places she still wants to go. “Every year I tell myself I’ll find a way to get to Iceland or South Africa, and every year they seem to pass me by.”

“Did you know that Iceland was the last place on earth to be settled by humans? I mean, the last to be permanently settled, when it was accidentally discovered by Vikings.”

“I had no idea,” she says, and something about her smile makes him want to tell her more.

“It’s also an incredibly literary country. Statistically, one in ten Icelanders will publish a book in their lifetime, and books are such popular gifts that many are published right before Christmas. There’s actually a term for it, in Icelandic, jólabókafló∂, the ‘Christmas book flood.’”

She laughs and for a second Reid wonders if he’s rambled too much, but she says, “How on earth do you know that?” and he relaxes.

“Just reading a lot. I… like knowing things.” Anything could be useful in the field, at any time. Or in a bookstore, in the company of a woman whose smile feels like a prize he just wants to keep earning.

“Do you ever want to go there?”

“I don’t know. I never really travelled much before the BAU. Actually the first flight I took was to DC for a job interview. I was terrified so I read three different handbooks on aviation and aerodynamics just so I could feel more comfortable. Understanding it helped me to feel less scared. And now I fly so much I don’t really even think about it.”

Y/N closes the book and puts it back on the shelf. “One of these days we’ve got to get you on a plane for pleasure rather than business,” she says.

They stand together in the checkout line, Y/N with a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and Reid with a copy of Wind, Sand, and Stars which came highly recommended by her. As they step outside, the sky opens into a downpour. He grimaces, already searching in his bag for his umbrella, but looks up to see her standing beyond the awning, arms outstretched, wearing a grin as the rain hits her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

She spins a circle. “Dancing in the rain,” she laughs. “I love the rain, but I don’t really get to enjoy it when I’m flying because it makes it so much more stressful. I’ve got to focus on what I’m doing. But on the ground I can just let it be. And appreciate the gray sky and the sound of the rain.” She steps back under the awning to join him. “But it will be a damp walk home without my umbrella. I totally forgot it at home.”

“I have one,” he says, and then adds, without thinking, “I could walk you home.” She raises her eyebrows and he worries he’s stepped over that invisible line. “I mean, if it’s not too far and you don’t mind, but I also don’t have to I just thought maybe-”

“I’d love that,” she says. “Thanks, Reid.” And so he opens his umbrella and she squeezes close to him beneath it. They walk the few blocks to her apartment, and all the while he is keenly aware of her elbow against his and her shoulder brushing his arm. And he doesn’t mind one bit. All too soon they reach the steps of her building and he’s not quite ready to say goodbye and end this magical moment where there is no danger and no impending departure and no work to be done. Just the two of them and stories shared and all the words they could want as the rain falls around them. So close under the umbrella, she looks up at him, as if she’s trying to find just the rights words and he can’t help but be distracted by the way her jacket is falling off her shoulder again and how it looks so lovely in a way he can’t quite make sense of and he’s thinking that maybe if he took just another step closer they’d be able to fill this silence with something –

But then the silence is broken by the abrupt sound of a window opening followed by someone shouting, “Y/N!”

They step apart, startled, and glance up at the gray sky. From the second story, a pale woman with sleek black hair pokes her head out of a window. A trail of smoke exits the open window, mingling with the rain. “Thank goodness you’re back! I burned the chicken, so we’re gonna have to order out for dinner!”

Y/N sighs. “That would be Yeeqin,” she says. Then raising her voice to call back up she says, “Give me just a minute and we can figure out carryout!”

“Hey is that the FBI guy you were t-”

“I’ll be right there!” Y/N yells. The window closes, and she turns back to him, looking a little more flustered. The moment is gone. “I should get up there before she burns the apartment down.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“This was really nice though.” She makes no move to leave.

“Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that, Reid.”

And his last name sounds so formal. He doesn’t want formal, not with her. “Uh, you can – you can call me Spencer, you know.” They stand there for just a beat and he wants so badly to reach out for her hand. But he doesn’t.

Then she says, “I’ll see you soon, Spencer.” Y/N walks into her apartment, and he’s still replaying the sound of her voice saying his name in his mind, so focused on trying to commit this whole afternoon to memory that it takes him two blocks of walking before he realizes he’s going the wrong way.

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

They’re waiting for Kate and Morgan to arrive, but the rest of the team is already anxious. She and Arthur can hear them talking as they prepare the cockpit.

“All I’m saying is given the reports, I just don’t know if flying is the safest way to get there,” Rossi says.

“It’s the only way we’re getting all the way to Colorado in time,” Hotch responds.

“We are a pretty small plane though, and whatever happened took down a large passenger plane,” JJ counters. “What if this is a terrorist attack?” Beside her Arthur tenses, but he says nothing.

Rossi says, “On 9/11 we grounded flights to be safe. How do we know this won’t happen again?” Arthur hastily puts on his headphones and busies himself with the controls.

“We just have to hope.”

Y/N knows it’s not her place, but their conversation is clearly unnerving Arthur. She can’t just stand by while her friend and captain is uncomfortable. Before he can stop her, she steps into the cabin where the BAU sits.

“You can do more than hope,” she says. The gathered faces turn to look at her. “I don’t mean to be out of line, Agent Rossi, but I overheard your concerns. Captain Dobson and I are good at what we do. And he’s one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. I know this can be scary but I promise that you’re in good hands with us. You trust your team with your lives because you trust them to do a good job. I’m asking that you do the same for us. We may not be a part of the team, but we always get you home safe. This is our job, and we do it well.”

“Of course you’re a part of the team,” Spencer says. Everyone’s gaze flickers to him, but he’s looking right at her. The air feels warmer with those hazel eyes focused on her. “You’re with us for every case. And you’re right. You’ve always kept us safe. We need to trust them,” he adds, glancing at the rest of his team.

“I’m sorry,” Rossi says. “I didn’t mean to insult either of you.”

“No offense taken,” she says. But she wants to be sure any tension is cleared from the air. “But uh, for what it’s worth we’ve restocked the whisky in the minibar if that’ll help you feel a little more relaxed on today’s flight.” The older agent gives her a smile, and she knows all is well. She steals once last glance at Spencer, hoping she can read the gratitude in her eyes, before ducking back into the cockpit. Soon enough the rest of the team arrives. Some quick communication with the tower, and Geff is up in the air again. They fly in silence through the clear blue sky, and it’s not until they’ve reached cruising altitude that Arthur speaks.

“I was flying that day.” Y/N glances at him. She doesn’t have to ask him to specify the date. She simply waits for him to continue. “I flew for United back then. I was a first officer. We were flying from London to Newark and halfway across the Atlantic someone called in over air-to-air telling us there had been a terrorist attack. Next thing we knew we were receiving orders to land in Canada. This tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Gander. There were 37 other planes on the tarmac. We sat there for 12 hours while the RCMP inspected every jet before we could deplane. And we had to tell the passengers what happened. We were there for five days. They said we doubled the population of the town.”

“What was it like?” she asks.

“We were terrified. We had no idea if our plane was at risk of being hijacked. We hardly knew what was happening or why. And we had to try to keep 200 passengers calm. Not to mention there was no way to know if any of our friends had been flying the planes that were used. But it was strange,” he says staring out at the sky. “Despite all of that fear and grief, we were surrounded by some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. They fed us, housed us, gave us clothes. They brought us out to pubs and held dinners and parties and did everything they could to make us feel welcome. Seven thousand strangers from around the world, and this little town never hesitated to help us and never asked for anything in return. It was incredible.

“It was actually a little sad to say goodbye. But when we finally flew back into Newark we saw the devastation. Ground Zero was still burning. It was awful. People had flyers up for loved ones they hadn’t heard from. And for a while, people stopped flying. Everyone was too scared to be in the air.” She remembered being in college at the time. The shock and the sorrow. The anger – the day her friend went to her work-study job at the library and found her desk defaced with Islamophobic hate speech. And the fear that seemed almost palpable. Students afraid to fly home for the holidays or to travel abroad. Flying had always seemed so magical, but suddenly a plane had become a weapon.

“My friend was the first officer on Flight 93. We were close. And I know he would have done anything to protect that plane and its passengers. I know all of those pilots would have. Any pilot would. It’s our job. That day always reminds me of the friend I lost. And the moment that someone turned the pure joy of flying into something dangerous. But at the same time, I’ll always remember the kindness that Gander gave us when we needed it most.”

She tries to picture the Captain stranded in Gander, surrounded by kind Newfoundlanders in plaid, waiting for a world that has stopped turning to begin again. It’s impossible to imagine what he must have felt. But she’s grateful he’s willing to tell her about it.

“You’re impulsive, Y/L/N,” Dobson continues. She flinches, startled by the sudden change of subject and the words he’s chosen. “Speaking to Agent Rossi like that was out of line. But you did it out of kindness. I want to thank you for that.”

“What?” What she did earlier is exactly the sort of thing he would usually reprimand her for or lecture her about. But he doesn’t at all seem disappointed in her.

“You need to think things through,” he concedes, “but I know you don’t take such actions out of pride or spite. You do it because your heart is in the right place. You’re kind. And that’s a very good thing to be.” He clears his throat. “Although I do wish you’d let your head take the lead more often.”

She smiles. “Thank you, sir.” The sky is clear all around them. Their passengers in the back are quiet. However scary the world may be, this moment in this plane, flying up there still feels magical.

After a pause, Arthur says, “Betty White and Rebecca Black.” And the soul-baring has passed. Another one of their in-flight verbal games is afoot. People who should be arch-nemeses but aren’t.

“Freddie Mercury and Bruno Mars,” she counters.

“Vivienne Westwood and Clint Eastwood.”

It takes her several minutes to come up with, “Ken Burns and John Waters.”

“Damn, that’s good,” Arthur says. And so they pass the rest of the flight attempting to find all the pairs they can. Soon enough they’re landing at Durango La-Plata’s small county airport. The team deplanes and she and Arthur go about cleaning the cockpit and cabin. They grab their own respective go-bags and say farewell to Geff. It surprises her however, to see that the team is still there, evidently waiting for Bureau SUVs to arrive judging by the way Hotch keeps looking towards the road. But Spencer is standing away from the rest of the group, bouncing on the soles of his feet near the jet stairs. Dobson gives her a glance, eyebrows raised, and says he’ll meet her at the door to catch a cab together.

“Hey,” Spencer says.

“Hey, yourself.” She pulls her go-bag up on her shoulder, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. The cool Colorado air has her grateful to be wearing a blazer. “Um, I wanted to thank you,” she tells him. “For what you said earlier. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m happy you stood up for us.”

Spencer rubs the back of his neck. “Of course. And I meant what I said. You and Captain Dobson are a part of this team. I know we don’t always show it, but we’re really grateful for both of you. I just want you to know that we notice. And we care. I care.”

There is an unspoken weight to those two words that hangs between them as she meets his eyes. She wants to ask him exactly what he means by that – exactly how much he cares and whom for and in what way. But before she can, Morgan calls for Spencer to join them. Two black SUVs are ready to take them away.

“I’d better go,” he says.

“I know. Be safe out there, Doctor.”

“I will. You, too. I’ll see you soon.” And then he’s gone. She joins Arthur on the curbside and moments later they’re climbing into a taxi together. Arthur is on the phone with his boyfriend to let him know they’ve landed safely. Y/N stares out the window at the tall trees and the clear sky and thinks that ‘soon’ can’t possibly come soon enough.

#flight risk #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #brywrites #criminal minds

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

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Owl House Book Club Meeting Two

Welcome back to the Owl House Book Club, I’ve brought more fic recommendations to get you guys through the hiatus!

All recommendation lists can be found at @toh-book-club, a side blog I made exclusively to archive the book club posts, so feel free to check that out!

The six fic format is what I think I’m going to stick with for now because that’s doable for my time management at the moment!

If anyone knows if the fic authors that I haven’t added yet have a tumblr, please let me know so I can @ them!

I will post a version of this without the links too and then link this version there, because a lot of the links here are external links so there’s a really high chance this version won’t show up in the tags because tumblr is annoying like that.

If you are going to reblog any version of this, please reblog this one.

That being said: have fun reading, and please be nice to the authors and leave a comment if you can!

—

Mama's Gonna Wait Up Until You Get In by hellotomyoldheart on Ao3:

G. Complete. Light angst. No ships. Luz thinks about home and her mom and misses her post YBOS.

Summary: Most mornings, Luz expects her mother to come into her room and shake her awake. To smell coffee and bleach, the sun rising through her curtains Camilia would pull open. Luz thinks she’s back home when her eyes flutter open and see the light from under the door, hears footsteps around the house, the sound of the world already awake around her.

But, it’s not what Luz thinks it is. It’s not home.

(Or, Luz misses her mom.)

—

I do adore by mutterandmumble on Ao3:

G. Complete. Introspection. Lumity.

Summary: Amity has discovered two things in the past week: first that Luz fiddles with the sleeves of her shirt when things get quiet, that she flips the cuff inside out and runs her thumb over the well-worn softness of the inside over and over again until she’s satisfied, and second that having a crush makes you notice things about a person that you never even knew you wanted to notice.

—

living arrangements, shovel talks by tiredandjaded (@tiredandjaded) on Ao3:

G. Complete. Hurt/Comfort. Family feels. Eda, Lilith and Luz have some much-needed conversations.

Summary: Eda, Luz and Lilith may have made it out of the Emperor's castle alive, but tensions are still high when they arrive at the Owl House. When Eda discovers the true cost Luz paid for their escape, will she be able to forgive Lilith?

Or, redemption isn't just one grand act of sacrifice. It's the messy conversations that follow, hurt feelings, and maybe building something new.

—

sun on her shoulders, wind in her hair by myosotises on Ao3:

G. Complete. Hurt/Comfort, Fluff. Lumity.

Summary: Amity’s just standing there, standing there, a perfectly normal action and—had she always been so pretty? Granted, Luz always knew she was aesthetically pleasing, had seen it since that day she saw Amity talking to Willow in that clearing—she does have eyes—but this is beyond looking nice. How had she never noticed?

Luz goes out to find Amity (the girl she may or may not have a crush on).

—

where the heart is by cato_universe (@catoeirienind) on Ao3

G. Complete. Family feels. Camileda. Also does a really really good job of contrasting the relationships Luz has with both her moms.

Summary: Eda is a gay disaster.

Luz comes up with the perfect plan to introduce her mom to magic. Truly, it’s perfect. She’ll introduce her to Eda in the human world, and then, when her mom trusts her, Eda will be the one to prove to Camila that magic is real, because while her mom might think the Boiling Isles are part of Luz's imagination, surely she won't doubt another adult.

Eda, thinking there's little she wouldn't do if it means she can keep Luz by her side, goes along with it. After all, what could go wrong?

—

Who am I? (a Blight, of course, a Blight at heart) by Smokestarrules (@smokestarrules) on Ao3:

T. Complete. Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Lumity, but the main focus is on the relationships of the Blight family. Also some focus on the relationship between Amity and Willow.

Summary: An hour and a half later, Amity starts finishing up, and then she’s done. She avoids the nervousness and immediately looks at the closest mirror. The person in the mirror blinks back at her.

Her hair is green.

That shouldn’t surprise her; she’s just been dyeing it green, but. For some reason, looking at herself strikes her dumb. She looks like a whole other person. The brown had made her look soft and gentle, but the new color gives her an air of power. She looks strong, and intelligent, and like someone who would one day become a member of the Emperor’s Coven. She looks different, although she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

….She looks like a Blight.

Or;

Did i just write an entire 12k fic after a throwaway line of Karen Blight liking her children to be “color-coordinated”? maybe so

—

@temmies123 @the-tic-is-real @pdestructor @flight-of-fear @justtimocraft

If you want to be tagged in future book club posts, just leave a comment here or send me a DM and I will add you to the list!

There will be a separate post that you can leave suggestions for the next list(s) on coming soon, so keep an eye out for that if you have stories you’d like to recommend!

A new book club list is posted every two weeks if I get enough suggestions!

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of-elves-and-mad-hatters · 3 years

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“The Azure Sky” - Chapter 2 - Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace.

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide.

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm.

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

_______________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

_______________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2

Shaking, Emily pushes herself up to her knees, viewing the scenary around her with shock and confusion. Trees extend in every direction, leaves mottled with unusual tones of pinks and violet. The silky soft grass glistens in the light, though as she runs her hands of the blades, she finds them dry of dew. Despite the density of the foliage, the sun illuminates the area to the brightness of midday during the summer. Birds chorus grandly behind the anonimity of the branches.

“Who are you?”

Emily jumps, turning to find a girl looming curiously behind her, though perhaps that would not be the most accurate term. She looks odd, dressed in a bright magenta dress cut and sewn to mimic flames and embroidered with some sort of baroque designs, though it’s hard to tell since most are faded and stained. Her tan skin is marked by bright tattoos on one shoulder and her face, emboldening her warm brown eyes and burgundy and marigold hair, the long, chaotic curls draped like a canopy from her narrow head. Two sharp, pointed ears complete the bizarre ensemble.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce yourself after falling through a portal?” The corners of the girl’s lips curve impishly upwards.

“Portal?” Emily stutters out, staring at the being before her with the same wariness one would watch a racoon.

“Yeah, the one you just came through?” the girl rasps. She leans closer, hands on her hips. She cocks her head. “How did you open one anyways? That kind of magic is super hard to learn, kept locked away by a bunch of grouchy ancients who jump at their own shadows.”

“Um, I don’t…know really…”

“What do you mean you don’t…” the girl stops short as Emily tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not an elf.”

“No…I’m human” Emily answers. Her voice drops hesitantly. “What’s an elf?”

“Well, I am,” the girls begins, but she seems distracted. She studies Emily’s clothes, “You must be from that other realm, the one the Great Sisters made a portal to a century and a half ago, with all those humans.”

“I guess so.” Emily chuckles slowly. Portals, elves, much more likely she’s lying on the ground in her grandmother’s garden in a coma and dreaming. Consequences of being a clutz.

“You don’t know how you got here, do you?” Emily shakes her head. The girls smiles fondly and extends her hand, “Well I guess we’re just gonna have to figure that out aren’t we?” She pulls Emily to her feet. “I’m Azari, fire elf, and I have a feeling this is going to be quite an adventure.” A rogue-ish smile breaks onto her face, and she looks overall like a fanciful devil.

Emily swallows her nerves and forces a smile. “I’m Emily, and I sincerely hope not.”

Azari laughs, the sound rolling through the air with the intensity of a wildire.

__________________________________________

Fire elf in the lead, the pair hustle down the grassy hill. This vantage point, to which Emily had been facing away from when she landed in this place, looks down upon a vibrant blue lagoon, framed on either side by jagged mountains. Azari turns onto a path to the right, leading to a sloping outcropping ornamented with unusual apple trees.

“Where are we going?”

“To Farran Leafshade, earth elf, and general buzzkill. His idea of fun is studying different kinds of dirt.” Azari wrinkles her nose. “Who does that? Of all the elves I know, earth and not, even those in agriculture think that’s the most boring part of the job. What kind of person do you have to be in order to want to do that in your free time?”

“A little weird, I guess, but I’m sure he’s a great guy…elf..person..thing…”

Azari shrugs. “He could do with a little spontenaity every now and then. Live a little, you know? Anyways he’s pretty in tune with all the goings of the forest, plus his home is where we all get together for anything important.”

Emily looks quizically at her. “You all?”

“Me, Farran, Aira and Naida. We’ve all been friends since forever.”

Emily nods. “And do you think they might know how I got here, and maybe how to get home?”

“Maybe, Aira and Naida know the legend of the Great Sisters better than I do, I get bored with history. Besides, Naida’s mother’s mother was one of the Sisters who created the portal in the first place. We might be able to go to her for help.”

“Who are the Great Sisters?”

“Well they’re,” Azari stops short and shakes her head. “No, I better let one of the others explain. I always get the details mixed up.”

As they near the pinacle of the slope, a sophistcated treehouse becomes visible through some of the towering branches. Seated on a set of roughly hewn steps is a male elf. He has a fairly light complexion, muted lime green eyes, and a wavy mess of short, dark brown hair that almost conceals the tips of his ears. He holds a pad of paper and a pencil in his hand, conversing with an elven girl standing to his right. She’s slim, but not overly tall, pale face accented with lavender eyes and hair, the latter pulled into a rather elaborate ponytail, though quite a number of strands have loosened. She wears a strange winged contraption, to which her fingers are busy adjusting the straps.

“Remember to time it correctly this time,” she chides the boy, her voice light and airy.

“I know,” he grumbles, leaning forward to rest his head tiredly on his hand. “After forty-five test flights, one can have the tendency to make a mistake.”

“Nonsense, that only means it should be perfectly engrained into your muscle memory.” She tightens one last strap. “There. Now in five, four, three…”

“Aira! Farran!” Azari calls.

The purple-haired girl turns, her face erupting into a beaming smile. “Azari! So good to see you! Who’s your friend? She looks odd, why are her ears so round?” The words flit from her mouth with the speed of a hummingbird.

Emily, overwhelmed, only stares dumbly in response.

“Aira, that’s not polite,” the boy gently rebukes, striding over to join them. “I’m Farran Folasion. This is Aira Arlaynaiel. It’s a blessing to meet you.”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Farran,” Azari responds. “This is Emily, and she’s a human.”

“A human? This far north? How?” The boy asks incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Emily starts shyly. “I guess I came through some sort of portal. There aren’t any elves where I come from, least that anyone knows about.”

Aira’s eyes widen. “The gates of Great Sisters!”

Azari nods. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“We have to find Naida!” Aira exclaims.

The fire elf smirks. “Also what I was thinking.”

Gushing, Aira and her sweep Emily off in a new direction down the hill. The air elf buzzes with excitement, chattering with such speed that Emily can’t make sense of half of what comes out of her mouth, but it seems to be spurts of curious questions about her human-ness alternating with speculations of the significance of her appearance in Elvendale. It seems whatever these gates or portals were, they were supposed to be permanently sealed decades ago.

Farran trails just behind the group, and unlike his companions, his face is devoid of anything cheerful. He casts skeptical glances towards Emily, concern creasing his brow. He runs one hand anxiously through his hair. He sighs.

At least they’re going to see Naida, the wisest of their little group. She would be the voice of caution Azari and Aira desperately need to hear.

#lego elves #elvendale #unite the magic #fanfiction #emily jones #azari firedancer #farran leafshade #aira windwhistler

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raevenlywrites · 3 years

Text

The Ties That Bind 16 of ???

By the time Rei and the serpiente returned, I was more than ready to surrender myself to the simplicity of my hawk’s form. Zane had the comfort of his actual people now; he didn’t need me. He had Adelina, his actual mate, and whatever friends and lovers he had among his other people. They could help him grieve his younger brother. I had done my part.

On wing, we reached the Keep much faster than the company on foot. I trusted Karashan to keep my people that had remained behind safe and in line. I did not trust those posted at the Keep not to attack first and ask questions later when a group of armed serpents showed up at their door.

But I also didn’t trust myself to deal with them all, not just yet. Between my mother and the generals, and the kiss with Rei, and the heart wrenching memory sharing with Zane and Adelina-- no. I needed a break. And I deserved one.

I alighted far enough from the Keep to hopefully not draw the noticed of any watch, trusting Rei and Raymond to follow. A Shardae never flew anywhere alone, but these two were surprisingly not as stifling as I usually felt with an escort. Raymond kept a discrete distance, resting in a tree in his raven form, while the smaller crow that was Andreios made for the clearing my hawk alighted in. Almost before he’d completely transformed, I had my arms around him.

Rei stiffened, but it was only a moment of surprise, I thought. His arms went around me easily enough, and it was familiar enough to be the source of comfort I’d hoped it would be.

For a brief moment, I wished I could simply share emotion with him as Zane and I had. How much easier would it be to simply let him in, to allow my exhaustion and pain and confusion and doubts wash over him, to have him simply know. But at the same time, I was grateful for the avian reserve that kept us both apart. I didn’t have the strength right now to deal with whatever emotions he might unload on me.

“Dani--“

“Just give me a moment, Rei. Please.”

It didn’t take a serpent’s sense to hear the desperation in my voice. He held me tighter, and I swallowed down a sob. I normally didn’t struggle this much to compose myself. But Zane had asked me not to hide, and it left me slow with my defenses now. I burrowed into Rei’s chest, feeling the strong, familiar heartbeat under my cheek, as steady and constant as the beat of my own hawk’s wings.

Gradually, peace returned, or as much of it as I ever felt. I was steadier, at least, and could stand to pull enough away to look up at him.

“Thank you.”

His look was equally parts amazement and pity. “Dani, of course. You know I’m always here for you. However you need me.”

The words turned me to jelly, and I longed to be able to give into them. Maybe, if I’d ever felt safe enough to feel the full extent of my feelings, his kiss wouldn’t have overwhelmed me. My heart steeled with determination to see the day where I could let myself love, fully, without reservation or fear of loss. I would see myself love this man, and whatever children--

The sharp rasp of Raymond’s raven bark cut through my thoughts. He alighted a moment later, melting into human form. For once, the sight of him did not stir the old pain of mourning Vasili. No, my only thought was dread for the news he delivered.

“Patrols, my lady. The serpiente should still be far enough out, but they won’t be for long.”

Rei’s face hardened, the grim lines of a soldier turning him from grounding rock into shielding fortress once more.

“Shardae, we must go. Whatever plans you have with the Arami, they will all be for not if the last prince of the Cobriana is slain on our doorstep.”

“Generals.” For once, I sounded as cool and commanding as she, “Kindly help me clean this room up. I am expecting company shortly, and it would not do for Zane Cobriana to see his people reduced to figures and arrows.”

I nodded and took to the air without another word. I wasn’t quite the full respite my heart ached for, but it had been a moment to catch my breath, and to know that Rei still had my back. We would address the kiss another time. For now, he was still my Rei, even under the hardness of Flight Commander Andreios. I would need both in the coming days, and I was beyond grateful to know I hadn’t lost them.

The Generals were already assembled when we landed, and in fact, had been in council more or less since I’d left. Even when my mother had flown the fields in search of me, they had been amassing information about the serpiente movements, or lack thereof. The charts and maps all over the war room steeled my resolve. I walked right up to one, which I recognized at the section of lands surrounding the Lyssia farmhouse, and pulled it straight down, ignoring the various cries from behind me. My mother, I noted, was absent from the council room.

“My lady?” General Viridian asked. As the youngest of my generals, he was most likely to have seen Zane fight personally. I didn’t begrudge him his sudden paleness.

“I can only assume my mother’s absence means she has not informed you of our impending guest, or else the scouting parties would have already been recalled. Speaking of, Rinnman, would you see to that?”

The old goshawk coughed, spluttered, but finally simply stood to do just that. Perhaps it was Rei’s glare from over my shoulder. Or perhaps it was the meticulous way I was shredding the map in my hands. A waste of a good map, yes, but if it got my point across, I would tear down each chart and map and ledger book and record piece by fragile little peace. I was going to be listened to, and I was going to be obeyed.

“You truly intended to entertain him here, my lady?” Viridian asked again. He still had yet to regain his color.

He raised a valid question, and one had I had given my thoughts over to as we flew.

“He will be presented to the court as any visiting dignitary would, yes, but I prefer for a more secure location for our actual peace talks. I would rather keep our guest and his guards in a less central location to the daily activities of the Keep.”

There was the expected murmur at “his guards”, but I didn’t give them the chance to argue. I simply continued issuing orders.

“The Arami and his people will be given the option to stay on the fourth floor as any other dignitary would be granted, or we will commandeer any ground lodgings required. Any family put out of their homes will be given the suites the Arami would have used. I want an honest assessment of who is best suited to working alongside the serpiente guard to keep the peace. Anyone who feels unable to perform these duties is to be given a two week paid leave if they do so now. Anyone who causes trouble after the fact will be exiled, no exceptions. I will not have this go badly because of failings on our end.”

I was met with stunned silence, which wasn’t really that unexpected. What did surprise me was Raymond’s voice, breaking the silence with a shockingly wise suggestion.

“I would have those selected vetted with the serpiente themselves, my lady. They will be able to feel any negative reaction to their presence. Give them a chance to decline the position and take the leave then as well, once they truly know their own hearts.”

I gave what I hoped was a magnanimous nod, giving myself a moment to gather my composure again before answering.

“An excellent suggestion. Captain Andreios and [rank?] Raymond will escort a small band to meet with the serpiente as they approach the Keep. Gather your best people, generals, and assemble them in receiving arounds at the top of the hour. Dismissed.”

I turned and left on knees that did not shake, much to my surprise. I made it all the way to the fourth floor before my insides turned to jelly.

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty @writing-with-melon @rainydaydarling @faithfire

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes @faithfire

#raev does fic #the ties that bind fic #hawksong fic #kiesh'ra fic #the kiesha'ra #hawksong #danica shardae #zane cobriana #andreios #my writing

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glumpiglet · 4 years

Note

Beetlejuice meeting his S/O and shes a ghost?

Hi..Thank you for the request.. I had a lot of fun with this one.. It really got away from me lol I hope you like it <3 to those who requested I havent forgotten about you, it’s just easier for me to write on the weekend when I’m not working. K love you guys

Warning: bit of swearing.. basic beej innuendos... thats it.

If you had known that when you woke up that Wednesday, it would have been your last day alive, you probably would have done so not hungover. Stumbling out of bed, sheets still clutching at your legs, you swore at the morning sun shining once again for the high, wide windows in all the bedrooms. It was on the list to replace the sheer curtains, but fabric that long was hard to find and not cheap to buy.

When Great Aunt Gerdy left you her house, the only wish she had was to ‘preserve, protect, and breath life back into Windflew Manor.’

Sweet, naive Gertrude. Spun of sugar more than flesh, your great aunt had been the youngest of twelve and definitely your favourite family member. Growing up, you fondly remembered spending summers here, riding your bike through the halls on rainy days, playing ‘Pirates and Rogues’ in the backyard with Gerdy and her children.

When you got older you begged to still come to the Manor; Gertrude watched you grow and in her own mind, Auntie Gerdy had assumed you would follow the steps of the women in your family, hunker down with a fine man, pop out some kids every few years.

As you said, Gertrude was tragically naive. Never had the heart to ever tell her the truth. That marriage….Children? Had never even entered the equations of goals. You wanted a spontaneous, fun life full of breakable things. Adventure.

But also it was known that if you didn’t take this house, it would have gone to an auction. It broke your heart the way her children acted, their mother was one of the greatest women you had ever met, a role model. It was what she wanted. You couldn’t do that to Aunt Gerdy. So with hesitant determination, you had set about restoring Windflew Manor.

Due to funds, you were forced to do most of the work, getting help for a few handier friends. But it had been coming along nicely, room by room the cobwebs and mold were disappearing. It was satisfying work.

Resting your head against the shower wall, however, you didn’t think you could find the strength to tackle the gardens today. It was all your friend's fault, ‘one more drink (Y/N), we’ve worked so hard!’

Exiting the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror, you reflected on how tired the image looked as you moisturized, changing into comfy shorts and a tank top without bothering to properly dry yourself. It was a warm day and you liked the cool moisture mixed with the lotion slicking your skin.

Just as you began brushing your teeth, the doorbell rang multiple times. Who the hell was that this early in the morning? The sound came again, more insistent and you had to roll your eyes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses..” Sprinting down the hallway, trying to steady on the banister, you felt the gravity shift as your feet slid across the hardwood.

You supposed everyone would lament your damned clumsiness, your carelessness. Imprinted on the skin, you held the reminders of how prone to accidents you had been. It had been a joke in the family for years. ‘(Y/N) is gonna kill herself one day!’

It was only a matter of time.

Swing your hand wildly, nothing could be gripped as you felt yourself swinging forward, hurdling towards the twenty-six flight of stairs that as a child, never it was considered it would have spelled your end….

Turns out, it had been nothing more than a neighbor, wanting to let you know the street sweepers would be out tomorrow.

Life was funny that way.

Watching in dull horror as the EMT’s took your body away, trying to process the following information.. It came to you so obviously even though it sounded crazy: You weren’t having some out of body experience… You hadn’t taken any hallucinogenic drugs lately.. You were dead.

Thinking about what the afterlife would have been: Heaven, Hell, Purgatory…. Haunting Auntie’s empty house had not been on the top of the list.

Time was meaningless now, you could look at the grandfather clock and see two p.m and look five minutes later and see eleven a.m. it was always cold. You cursed not wearing something warmer than your p.j’s that last morning, not that you thought it would have helped.

Going outside had been a big no-no. Whatever fucked up colossal worm creature had been out there when you tried the one time to leave, was obviously meant to be keeping you here. So here you stayed.

It could have been only a day you spent dead and lonely in the house. Or a week. A month. Years. You were being a little dramatic, you knew it hadn’t been years. Friends and family came by, grieving openly, making your heartbreak; and removing all your items, which was even worse. Obviously to be sold off or stored in your old room. A time capsule.

On one of the many days that found you aimlessly wandering the halls, a book fell before you without pretense. Equal parts startled and puzzled, well as much as a ghost could be, you picked it up.

‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased..’

Gripping the pages, intent to open, you were halted as your front door swung open. A dozen or so handsome, young men carrying multiple packed things burst into Aunt Gerdy’s foyer, laughing and chatting loudly.

“Aw, dude this place is awesome!”

“Look at all the space!”

“Get that pong table over there!”

“What the fuck!?”

Stomping forward, you were about to raise your voice louder before you stopped yourself….Right, stupid... They couldn’t see you… The whole ‘being dead thing’.

Watching in impotent rage as they slammed their things on the hardwood floor, scuffing their sneakers on the expensive carpets you had saved every penny for…

This was not good. Not good at all.

You had been right.

It wasn’t hard to not like these kids. You weren’t really into the whole ‘boys would be boys’ excuse for male idiocy in their youths.

You didn’t like the way they treated each other, the archaic ‘hazing’ they would often do leaving you feeling ill. You didn’t like the way they treated the girls they used and laughed as they were forced down the traditional ‘walk of shame’ making you furious.

You especially did not like the way they treated the Manor. It was terrible, gaudy streamers and tacky posters were pinned to the walls. Daily parties...Keggers…. Were held here, the place was a war zone. Litter and garbage cluttered every hall and you were beginning to tear your hair out in helplessness.

They had turned your Aunt’s treasured home and your hardworking project into a frat house. It was just rude.

What were you gonna do? Time passed and you watched as the house grew further and further into decay when a lightbulb burst unexpectedly.

Realizing your answer, you hoped the discarded handbook was still where you had dropped it. Returning to the living room, you sighed in relief at seeing the odd-looking text where you left it. Walking up to it, however, you noticed something there that wasn’t there before.

A card, dusty, and sticking out of a random page. Bending down you began pulling at it, fingering the worn edges. You lifted it up into the light, trying to read it under all the dirt caked on. On the card, it just said one word three times, strangely compelled you said it out loud.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse…. Betelgeuse?”

The burst of smoke made you hack instantly, it was like someone smoked weed in an embalming room, pungent and eye-watering.

It was a man. Well, no. Not a human man in any case. Duh. You would say this was the weirdest thing to ever happen to you, but nothing was normal after you died apparently.

Observing as he waved his hands, stepping out of the cloud, you couldn’t help the widening of your eyes...He was.. Definitely interesting looking..

“Geez, did I come late to the party or what-… Woah.”

He looked awful and smelt even worse, and why the hell was he here?

The… Character that stepped had gone silent. Awkward and stilted, you struggled to speak. It couldn’t help being noticed his... Hair was changing colour… Most certainly going from an almost neon green to baby pink…. What was he?

“Don’t be afraid. You’re dead. I am also dead.” There was a moment before an incredulous giggle escaped your lips, you couldn’t help but realize it had been the first time you laughed since.. Well..

“Yeah, I figured that. From... You know… Seeing my dead body get taken away.” The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence deafening.

Before he pounced. Flouncing over in a comical manner, he began to circle you, the humour disappearing from you at the look in his eye.

“Huh, that line usually doesn’t work.. You’re surprisingly calm..” Turning your head until you couldn’t anymore, you swiveled striving for eye contact. He completed his journey around and stood in front of you, seeming to be searching for something. Before he held his grimey hand out…. The intense desire to hesitate held you still.

It didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

“Hello! A pleasure to meetcha-” Leaning forward, you realized in just enough time what he was doing before he could press his lips to yours, jumping back.

“Uh, excuse me!?”

“Can’t blame a demon for trying, babes. Anyways uh… What can I do for you?” He fidgeted with his jacket, pulling at the cuffs and flapping the lapels, wafting his stench towards you making you gag. Covering your nose you murmured beyond belief.

“What do you mean?”

“Well usually I only get called when someone needs something from me….. Bio-exorcism. Homicide. Sexual pleasure. I do it all.” This guy couldn’t actually be serious… You shook your head, none of this was helping. You had gone to the book for an answer and had only gotten even more questions.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about dude, I just found this card in this book. Anyways, what is happening right now? Who are you and why can you see me?”

Snickering, he continued to very eagerly invade your personal space and it was getting harder to find the space in the living room. The predator was cornering.

“You said my name, sexy. You called me.”

What kind of name was Betelgeuse? Deciding immediately to shorten it for ease, you opened your mouth but apparently, he was on a roll, and continued.

“And I already told you.. We’re dead. Deceased. Post Mortem.” Bumping into the wall, just hearing the words from someone else’s lips made you stop… Well, dead. Pun intended. Before they could be halted tears were gathering in your eyes… You weren’t even that emotional about it anymore, had already spent endless nights sobbing about what-ifs and regrets...Not for a while, still, it never got any easier to think about.

Trying and failing miserably to hide the sniffles, you peered at BJ’s surprised expression.

“Shit...shit..shit. I didn’t mean to do that…. Don’t cry,” Wiping at stubborn tears that fell against your wishes, you could see BJ shuffle his feet, looking extremely uncomfortable at your sudden breakdown. You tried to calm him, ironically.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… Not been that great so far... Sometimes I think I might be in hell.” Staring at the ground, you had the overwhelming wish once again for it to finally swallow you whole and take you where you belonged.

“Is it… Your current occupants?”

“It certainly doesn’t help.” Looking up at BJ’s tilted head and rapt expression, the need to confide was making you continue.

“My Aunt left me this house and… I’ve hated seeing what they're doing to it.” BJ looked to be contemplating something before he spoke.

“I could help you.”

You looked at him “What do you mean?”

“I told you.. Again... Sweetheart, you’re smokin’ hot but your memory’s shit. I’m a Bio-exorcist. Getting breathers out is my forte. Well, most breathers can’t see me… But I can teach you! Breathers are waay more likely to see a ghost than a demon.” Riveted by what he was saying, you didn’t realize his pursuit until you felt his grip sound your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmm… Get you in a little school uniform.. Give you extra credit...” Blatantly ignoring him, focusing on the important part of what he said.

“What you’re saying is we can get these kids out of here?”

“Of course babes. I take my job very seriously.” Shooting him an incredulous look, you managed to extract from him without much ease, he was really touchy for someone you just met.

“Yeah, I noticed…”

This was insanity. You weren’t actually considering letting this.. Demon?! To teach you how to scare the young men living in your house. It was dangerous and crazy.

Even more, there was no other option. Desperate times.

“Then you’re hired,”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good!” Once again having to duck away from his advance, you pressed a hand to the dirty front of his suit, holding him at bay.

“Stop that,”

“Hmm... Playing hard to get, I respect that.”

Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

In hindsight, it worked out perfectly. Beej, as he had assured, was very good at his job. Just because that job entailed scaring the shit out of anyone and anything around him shouldn’t be held against him.

Once again, incredulously if you had known in your life that your love of horror movies would have come in handy in your afterlife, you would have paid much more attention.

Beej was impressed with your novice skill. The voice throwing came naturally to you, and your favourite trick was hiding in the corner of one of their bedrooms, positioning your arms and legs at odd angles and whispering to the sleeping boys, stifling giggles as they awoke, petrified and flew downstairs, waking everyone else in the house.

None of them could actually see you, but you had sworn the one redheaded one had locked eyes in the bathroom mirror, the two of you paused before the urge to scare rapidly left and the need to leave arose. Walking out the bathroom his eyes had definitely followed.

He never told his friends about it, but BJ had said he watched him lay awake more than one night, clutching his sheets a little too tight.

Possession was something you felt was unnecessary. Beej had often offered to uh.. Show you how it worked but the thought of BJ well.. Inside of you… It made your skin crawl and you didn’t know if it was from repulsion or excitement.

BJ was.. Unexpected in the best way. Devilishly Intelligent. Hilarious and.. You saw glimpses of his sweetness. He bashfully gave you dead flowers from the garden and was constantly sending you praises that would make you blush if you still had blood. How beautiful you were, how great of a scarer you were…. After getting over the whole stink thing, he was really cute and you might have been... Falling for him. Just the thought made you terrified.

It all came to an end gradually. It was unexpected, you thought it would have been some big final fright, using all of your cunning ghostly powers. But no, one by one they just disappeared. Claiming to be moving back with family, dropping out, or simply leaving for ‘reasons’.

On the day you stood in the kitchen, now empty save for a few left behind appliances, the beaming smile sent to BJ couldn’t be contained.

“We did it.”

“You did it, babes. I was uh- Just along for the ride, I guess.”

Shifting closer to him, you saw with amusement Beej staring at your lips. The BJ of before would have taken your closeness as an immediate seduction, trying his luck. Now the fact he was trying to control himself, made your heart swell.

The moment was broken by the sound of the front door opening, you held your breath to see who, or what entered.

A beautiful couple entered, followed by an obvious real estate agent, discussing the house. The couple seemed too good to be true, polite, and awed at the house. Seeing the little bundle of a baby tucked in the mother’s arm as they continued their inspection. You supposed in a way Aunt Gertrude had gotten her wish. And that could be enough.

You turned to Beej watching the scene with an odd countenance.

“Thank you BJ, really. I’ve had a lot of fun.” You finally noticed. There was purple in his hair, something was making him sad.

“Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?”

Oh. oh.

Struggling to answer him, you watched as he further sank in himself. “I read the book, BJ..The Netherworld… Shouldn’t I be…”

“Not yet! Once you get there… We won’t be able to see each other this much... Haven’t we been having fun?”

“Of course but-”

“Don’t leave!” His voice was frantic, higher-pitched than you ever heard, you couldn’t find the words to calm him.

“Please! I’ll… I’ve been looking into something…” The moment took the oddest turn when Beej practically flew to his knees, reaching out to you to clasp your hands between his before clearly speaking two words you never imagined him saying.

“Marry me.”

The words shocked you. Scandalized, you said the one thing you could.

“Beetlejuice!” That wasn’t it, the look on his face broke you. It was pitiful, desperate.

“No nonono say something else babes, let me explain!” You reached out, stroking his stubble as his giant, golden eyes glittered at you with so many emotions swirling.

“I’m not gonna send you away Beej, stop please.” Taking deep breaths between you, the urge to sink to the floor with him ran over you. Somewhere in your mind you realized how stupid this was, two ghosts having a panic attack in the kitchen, but weirder things have happened.

“If I… Marry a breather. I get brought to life. So I’ve been thinking..” Beej was asking to marry you.. Could ghosts and demons even get married? Would you have a wedding? Invite other ghosts to the ceremony?

“I don’t know BJ… We don’t even know if it will work,” You hadn’t said ‘no’ yet. At the moment, you couldn’t find the desire to do so. You liked Beej, it was the little things in death you realized that mattered.

“What have we got to lose?.. I thought..”

Looking at him, on the floor with you. Overwhelmed with affection, you leaned forward, noting with glee Beej’s astonishment. Kissing the ghost with the most was... Everything and nothing what you expected. His tasted like cigarettes and dirt, still you leaned into him more.

The one thing that could make death totally rad. Being with him. He was absolutely right. Pulling away, looking at his blissed out face, eyes staying closed, you gave him your answer.

“Yes. Okay. I’ll marry you.”

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice broadway #betelgeuse #charles deetz #lydia deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice request

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thepeacetea · 5 years

Text

Mine (marijon)

Hi guy! So I was painting today and the song Mine by Taylor Swift came on and I thought it would make a cute marijon story.(Because I love this pair and there is not enough of them) Now I have never written a song fic before, but I tried my best. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Peace!

Marinette had finally done it. After four, long years, she had finally graduated high school. For, four years, Lila had continued her reign over the school. She had made good on her threat. No one dared to befriend Marinette, not if they valued their own social lives. Her ‘friends’ from middle school had turned into snakes or just plain abandoned her. She hadn’t hesitated packing her belongings. She didn’t cry when she left Paris a week later. She ignored the fact that her parents hadn’t even said goodbye. Pretending she didn’t see the pitying gazes from the miracle box. She was going to America to study. She didn’t need her family. She didn’t need her ‘friends’.

You were in college, working part-time, waiting tables Left a small town, never looked back I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Meeting Jon had been an accident. A real, hundred percent accident that wasn’t Marinette’s fault, this time. It was still a month until classes started and Marinette had a rare day off from her part-time job as a florist. She had been exploring the old shopping district of the city when it had started to rain. She found this little café, tucked away between a book and an antique store, to duck into to wait out the storm.

The chattering of the patrons seemed to enhance the establish charm the café possessed. The rain beating against the windows, the warm smell of coffee and food, and the gentle hum of conversation, brought a sense of calm Marinette hadn’t felt in a while. She had pulled out her sketch book and just drew. Her designs became warm. Full of soft lines and simple, yet elegant personalities.

The scrapping of chairs brought Marinette out of her sketching. She glance up just in time to see one of the costumers, who hadn’t bothered to look around, abruptly get up and turn into one of the waiters. Marinette had just enough time to shove her sketch book to safety as the tray that was being delivered landed on her. The first thing she notice was that it was soup. Hot soup!

“Oh my gosh! Miss, are yo . .” someone, a guy from the sound of the voice started to asked, but the rest of his question halted as Marinette torn off her shirt in a burst of inhuman speed in an attempt to prevent herself from received worse burns.

It was only after she had thrown her shirt across the café did Marinette did her mind catch up with what she had done. She was standing in the middle of a small, crowded café, with every eye trained on her, shirtless! Petrified, she looked up to meet the bright red face of the waiter as he stared right back at her, trying to avoid looking too far down. The guy was an easy 6’, and in comparison to Marinette’s 5’ 2’ frame, it was impossible. It took five, long seconds for Marinette’s brain to reboot. Snatching her sketch book, she clutched it to her chest in a futile attempt to preserve her modesty. The movement seemed to snap the waiter out of his shock. Jerking his bright blue eyes away from her, he undid his waist apron, giving it to her while he guided Mainette into the back.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t see the guy get up but I should have been paying more attention or I should’ve at least made the tray fall another way and your not hurt are you please tell me you didn’t get burned too badly, I can call an ambulance if you want. I’m such an idiot. I’m so fired. I’m so so so sorry.” He ramble in a panic as he rummaged through a pack, presumably looking for something for her to wear.

“Hey. Hey! It’s ok. It was an accident. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the guy that bumped into you. You know, I’m just gonna blame it on him. And I’m fine. I got the shirt off before the it could do any damage. The only thing that’s hurting is my pride.” She assured the boy, giving him an encouraging smile as he handed her a shirt. Slipping it on with a word of thanks, she found it, unsurprising, large on her.

“I’m sorry it’s big. It’s all I have.” Blue eye’s said sheepishly, as if he should’ve had a shirt to fit her in his bag. Marinette couldn’t help the giggle that came. This boy reminded her so much of her younger self.

“Hey, it ok. And don’t feel bad. Losing a shirt in public is not the worse or most embarrassing to happen to me.”

The boy still didn’t look convinced or any less guilty. If anything, his face grew even more red at the reminder of the accident.

“Listen, if you really feel that bad, you can make it up to me by showing me around Metropolis. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah. I . . . I can do that.” He said, eyes lighting up at the prospect. “I’m Jon by the way.” He said as one of the brightest smiles light up his face.

“Marinette.”

I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch The moment, I can see it Yes, yes, I can see it now

“Hey Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you hang out with me?”

It had been two months since the two of them had met, and Marinette had felt more safe and . . . loved then she had in the last four years. Jon was with her more often then not. For the first few weeks, Marinette had been a little on edge. She hadn’t had much human contact for years, and what she did was all different forms of bullying. But as time wore on, she began to anticipate when she would meet up with him. Most of their free time was spent wandering the city, with Jon showing Marinette all his favorite spots to visit and they surprising found some places he had never been. Other times, he would drop by her work to talk and buy some flowers for his mother. Marinette had eventually talked him into buying a plant for his apartment after she found out how empty it was. According to Jon, it was still thriving. Other times, she would bug him at the café, were she had quick become known by name. They had become close, and that scared her.

“What kinda question is that?”

“It’s a good question. I mean, your amazing and fun to be around and so open that I can only imagine that you would have a ton of friends. I mean, why spend so much time with me?”

Jon didn’t answer right away. He kept his gaze fixed on the night sky above them, seemingly so absorbed in the stars that managed to peak through the city skyline that it appeared he didn’t hear her. But Marinette knew him well enough to know when he was thinking. Pulling the blanket closer, she snuggled deeper into the burrow they had made on her roof for star gazing. It was a close to ten minutes before he answered

“Your different. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and other friends, but when I’m with them, they expect me to be a certain way. I have a lot, and I mean a lot to live up to. Both my parents have done so much and I constantly feel this presser to live up to them. And I know I want to. I want to make a difference like they have. I want to help people like they did, and still do.” Jon said, never taking his eyes off the night sky, but Mairnette couldn’t help turning her head to look at her friend. As he spoke, Marinette could understand, she had been in a similar situation not long ago.

“But when I’m with you, it’s as if none of that matters. You’re not expecting me to be like my mom or my dad. I can make mistakes with you and you’re not gonna judge. You’re not gonna think less of me. Honestly, I feel safe with you.” He said, turning to look at her.

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. She had always known Jon was handsome, but somehow the half-lighting they had made it clear just how much he was. The lighting accented his jawline, causing his babyish face to take on a more mature tone. His blue eyes, which were always behind glasses, where for once free and bare to the world. While they had always been so bright, they had adapted a darker, more alluring blue.

“Well,” Marinette said, clearing her throat slightly. “you have seen me shirtless, so . . .”

“Can you not bring that up, please.” He groaned, throwing his back as he groaned.

“Oh, come on, it’s funny!” Marinette exclaimed, laughter bubbling over in a joyous peel at the sight of his embarrassment.

“No, it’s not! My co-workers still tease me about it.”

“Think about this way, Jon. If that never happened, we never would have met.”

“Well when you put it that way.” Jon sassed, causing Marinette’s laughter to grow as his chuckles joined in.

“Jon,” Marinette said when she regained her breath, “. . . I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“So am I.”

Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

If Marinette had to tell someone when things started to change between her and Jon, she would always say it was that night on the roof. But it wasn’t until early November that officially changed. It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and the two of them where by Metropolis Bay enjoying one of the last few nice days before winter came. Marinette was going on about one of the customers at the flower shop.

“They wanted an original Thanksgiving center piece. And I was trying to tell her the owner was out and any special orders have to go through her. But she just kept insisting that I could do it. And I was trying to explain to her that one: I cannot do special order, if it’s in the catalogue, I can to it. But if not, I can’t. The owner wants make sure make sure of the quality. And second: Even if I was allowed, I couldn’t because I know next to nothing about Thanksgiving because we don’t celebrate it in France.”

She hadn’t noticed how quiet Jon was, usually he was just as talkative as she was if not more. But today he was very distracted.

“And then . . .”

“Marinettedoyouwanttocometomygrandparentsfarmforthanksgiving!”

“ . . .What?”

“Marinette, do you want to come to my grandparent’s farm for Thanksgiving?” Jon asked again. “Thing is, um, Grandma made a rule that we have to bring any potential girlfriends back for a holiday and . . .”

“. . . girlfriend?”

“Yeah, um, Marinette. Do, no. This isn’t how I planned it.” Jon stuttered, his face almost a red as when they first met. “Ok. I like you, Marinette. Like, a lot. I honestly have never met anyone like you. Your funny, sarcastic but you don’t over do it, kind , creative, and I, I thought someone like you couldn’t exist And what I’m trying to say is, will you go out with me?”

Marinette had never seen Jon this distraught. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, constantly running through his hair until it looked he had been flying. He kept shifting his weight that it almost looked like he was bouncing. For her part, Marinette’s mind decided to take a vacation. Jon, her first friend in over four years, like her. Liked her to the point where he was inviting her to join him on a family holiday. He was inviting her to meet his family. As a potential girlfriend.

“Jon, I . . .”

“It’s fine it you don’t feel the same way. I . . .” he interrupted her, giving her a way out.

“Jon. Jon, it’s not that. I. . . I just. . . have never . . . been in a relationship. And I don’t know how they work and I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.” She said, cutting him off. She couldn’t look at him. Not now. She hadn’t told a boy that she liked him since the disaster with Adrien.

“. . . Is that a yes?”

“Ye. . .” Marinette started to say, but was never able to finish as Jon pulled her into one of the most bone crushing and heartfelt hugs that she ever had. For a moment, she was too stunned to respond. It didn’t help that her brain had completely gone to mush. Once what had happened became clear, she returned Jon’s hug with just as much strength. And for the first time in a long time, Marinette felt like everything was going to be ok.

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out When it was hard to take Yes, yes This is what I thought about

Marinette had always meant to tell Jon what happened with her life in Paris, why she had to leave. But she never thought it would happen like this. Never because of a nightmare.

Laughter. Hate filled messages. Adults yelling at her in anger. Pain. The feeling of skin burning in an inferno. Buildings crushing her. The feeling and sounds of bone shattering. Acid green eyes snaring as claws tore through her stomach. Someone, someone was grabbing her, shaking her. Her earrings, she couldn’t let them get her earrings. She couldn’t use her arms! He had her arms! Lashing out, she tried kicking him off her, screaming at him. She couldn’t, she couldn’t let him take the earrings.

“. . .te.”

She had to get way.

“. . .ette.”

She couldn’t breath!

“ZHAO!”

That name woke her up. Only one person called her that. Snapped her out of her nightmare. No, her memories. Gasping for air, her eyes darted around the dark room. She knew this room. It was their room. Her and Jon’s. She was safe. She was safe. Why couldn’t she breath?

“Zhao, Zhao. Hey, hey , hey. It’s ok. It’s ok. Your safe. It was just a nightmare. You’re alright, Zhao. You’re alright. I’m here.” Jon’s voice drew her attention back to the person hold her, cradling her face as he gently brushed a hand through her hair. “That’s it. That’s it. Zhao, I need you to breath with me. Can you do that? Breath in. Hold it. And out. That’s good. You’re doing good. It was just a nightmare. Just a dream.”

Marinette knew he was trying to calm her. She knew that. That’s just who he was. But it wasn’t a dream. It was really. She couldn’t keep it locked up anymore. With a strangled cry, she flung herself at her boyfriend, clinging to him. Everything she had been bottling up for the past seven years just burst. She told him everything she had gone through in Paris, starting from when she became Ladybug until she left. All the pain, the doubt, the fear, the frustration came out. Marinette didn’t notice the kwami’s coming out of their box. She didn’t register their attempts to comfort her. The only thing she knew was that Jon was still holding her, rocking her slowly as he pet her hair, listening to her. Marinette didn’t know how Jon’s eyes started to glow in anger, how he curled around her protectively when she finally fell asleep. She didn’t hear his whispered promise to make those who hurt her pay. All she knew was that she was safe.

Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

It had was their third anniversary, and they were walking along shoreline. The sun had set hours ago. It was actually close to midnight. The air was crisp, taking on more a winter chill then a fall one. Metropolis Bay was quiet, the lights from the city created a picturesque scene, causing the waters sparkle like diamonds.

Neither were talking. They just walked, hand in hand, simply enjoy the night. Neither had projects, patrols, or meeting to worry about. Today was just for them.

Marinette was happy. She really, truly was. She remembered the morning following her breakdown, she had been so scared that Jon would leave her. That he would think she was too damaged. He had truly surprised her when he had asked to meet the kwamis. How he made sure to have their favorite foods always stocked. Though he had put a limit on Plagga’s cheese intake. The god of destruction learned very fast that if he ate his supplies before the end of the month, he would have to wait until the next month to get more camembert. The kwamis respected him, and for that, Marinette couldn’t be happier. She loved him, and she was thankful her family did as well.

A tug on her hand brought Marinette back to the present. Turning, she found Jon on one knee. Pulling a box from his coat pocket. He wasn’t. There was no way he was . . .

“Marinette, ever since I met you, I knew you were different. Any other person would have never spoken to me again after what I did. But you did. You put up with me. You let me be myself around you. You, you helped me find who I was. You let me into your life, after so many others had left you. You threw my world of kilter. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. You give me a reason to fight, a reason to show others mercy. You’re the sun in my life, and without you I am half the man I’m suppose to be. I love you. So Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you give me the honour of allowing me to walk by your side? Will you marry me?”

Through his whole speech, Marinette had tears pouring down her face. The more he said the harder her tears fell. By the time he reached the end, there was no way she could speak. All she could manage was a squeak as she nodded her consent. The sheer joy she felt when he slipped the ring on her left hand was almost too much. But her heart truly sung when he kissed her, slow and deep. Brimming with love. She was home.

And I remember that fight, two-thirty a.m. 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street

Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known Then, you took me by surprise You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

She ran through the streets, tears threatening to fall, blurring her vision. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. He was going to hate her now. She had ruined everything.

‘That’s right viewer. According to a reliable and trustworthy source, the one and only amateur ‘designer’, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who is known as the head designer for Jagged Stone, only got her position by sleeping with the artist. According to the source, this arrangement has been going on since the ‘designer’ was 13. She was the one to offer her ‘services’ as long as she was allowed to ‘design’ for the rock star. The real credit for the designs worn by the legendary rock star goes to one Lila Rossi. When asked why she hadn’t come forward sooner, this was her answer.

“Honestly I was scared to. I mean, Marinette had her claws into Jagged so deep that if I spoke up, no one would believe me. After all, who would believe a 14 year old girl over a music legend. But I just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. As a designer, I couldn’t let my work be stolen.”

Well, there you have it viewers. Looks like the ‘clean cut designer’ is really a dirty worker.’

The argument that followed was painful. Jon hadn’t said anything for the first five minutes after reading the article that popular blogger, Alya Cesaire, had published a little over an hour ago. The sheer amounts of reads was sickening. Marinette hadn’t even bothered to look at the comments, she couldn’t stand to think what was written. Marinette had panicked and was trying to convince Jon that what was written wasn’t true. The only relationship between her and Jagged was familiar at most. The longer Jon was silent, the more panicked and scared Marinette become.

“Why are you like this?”

The question hit Marinette like a truck. He . . . he thought she was lying? No. He couldn’t. She had told him about Lila. He knew she was a liar. Right?

“She’s lying, Jon. You have to believe me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m trying to . . .” Marinette started to say, trying to defend herself, but Jon’s voice cut her off.

“Why are you always defending yourself?” He yelled, and Marinette swore she saw his eyes flash red. He . . . he didn’t believe her. He believed the liar.

His words had set something off in her and Marinette did the one thing that gut told her. She ran. Bolted from the house. She couldn’t stay only to have Jon spout accusations at her. She couldn’t see the one person she felt safe with leave her. She didn’t know it was raining, she hadn’t even put on shoes. She just ran. She had no idea where she was going as her bare feet pounded on the pavement. Her foot caught on something, a sharp pain jerking on the top of her foot as her legs gave way. Bracing herself for the fall, she felt arms wrap around her. Arms she knew all too well. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t handle it if he left her too.

You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water. And every time I look at you, it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."

“I am never leaving you, Zhao. Do you hear me? I am never leaving you! You never needed to tell me that trash wasn’t true. Anyone with eyes could see that. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I am so sorry. I know it set you off and I promised myself I would never cause that. And I did and I’m sorry. I know I scared you. I was just so angry. I’m so sorry. I love you, and nothing. Nothing is gonna change that.” Jon declared, crushing his fiancée to him. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest doubt tell his zhao that he didn’t mean it.

He felt her stiffen only for a second before she become completely undone. The heart wrenching sobs cut the young, half kryptonian in ways that him see red. Death was too good for the scum that did this to his zhao. No. He was going to make sure there was no way for any of them to recover, specifically that Italian and ‘journalist.’ He would show her what a real journalist could do. But right now, he had his fiancée to care for. Jon was determined to make sure Marinette felt more loved then she had before. He would tear her ex-friends apart later. He also need to call his parents.

The next morning saw the release of three different articles tearing apart both so called ‘article’ about Marinette and all those who where in it. Which was, interestingly, all of her old classmates. All three articles were brutal. One Kent was deadly enough, making recovery nearly impossible. Two Kent’s? Recovery would be impossible in their lifetime. With all three, there would be no hope for their family lines. The world learned one thing that day: Never make Jonathan Kent angry.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now And I can see it

While in France, the old class was receiving the backlash of media, with two of them receiving lawsuits like candy, Clark was trying to prevent most of the JL from ‘talking’ to the ex-class themselves. After all, he had dibs as future father-in-law.

And in an apartment in the old district of Metropolis, a couple slept in peace. The boy curled protectively around his small fiancée, shielding her from the world. After all, she was his.

#Marijon #Maribat

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