#But none of this has been making sense since the trial?

[artemismacaron]

Been floating around the Lore Olympus Critical tag and I gotta tell you, the second to last episode of this series is actually kind of a joke.

Like I *wish* any of what was going on felt like it was supposed to matter. But it just seems like I was dragged around being promised some kind of story to be met with what is the equivalent of watching paint dry.

Ouranos was set up to be the penultimate villain, the final bad thing, and OF COURSE, he acts just like Kronos in terms of childish villainy, and there is just no pay off to any of this.

Oh. And Metis and Rhea got summoned from the not dead anymore because... I guess?

And like, all of the fertility goddesses just fused together and are obviously going to win because girl boss power? And I'm all about that sure but... Mind you that Persephone is a totally shameless and advantageous person with her position as queen of the underworld. Hera is, putting it mildly, a bitch and a racist-- MINIMUM. Metis was extremely manipulative of her daughter and kind of to Zeus as well, not including the fact it was later implied she certainly could have done more to help the usurping. Rhea is probably the "least" problematic of the bunch but also at the same time IS SHE THOUGH?

I dunno, I'm glad it's over. Can't believe I made a text post about this, but I wanted to throw my two cents somewhere while watching my husband play Mass Effect 3 lol.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Darkness loomed over Penacony as you ran barefoot across the dimly lit streets, the drunk passerbys oblivious to your rushed footsteps and heaving chest.

It has been six months since you felt the cool fresh air on your own. Six long, hellish months of bizarre captivity that made your head spin. Boothill was the personification of a locked and loaded gun, constantly on the chase for his next IPC lackey to shoot, or if he was in the mood he would hop on a totally different planet which no one knew about, which naturally only made him want to go even more.

The pain of trying to keep up with him was horrid. Rancid even. Scrapes and bruises, hell, even broken bones became a mild concern once you started to see the plethora of wanted posters which had your face plastered over them.

Solid bounty to boot.

Whenever you would bring up these concerns, Boothill would let out the most hearty laugh, his head thrown back so hard that his hat would come off. He would then proceed to smack you across your back, proudly saying that it was his own personal little way of claiming you.

No person with any common sense would dare come for you.

He would just shoot them dead on the spot.

"That's not a threat pumkin'!" he would say as he casually drank his drink, the alcohol swishing and swaying in the pristine crystal glass. He drank it all in one swoop before setting it back down on the counter, his gaze laser focused on you.

"It's a promise."

From the corner of your eye, you could see the way his hand was resting on the holster of his gun and came to the wise realization that you believed him.

Through trial and error, you have come to terms with the fact that Boothill will keep his promises, particularly if they were related to you.

Running away from him in the overcrowded bar was... was most definitely not the brightest idea but it had worked. It was indeed still working, even with your aching feet and burning lungs. Your entire body begged you to just stop and take a breath, but that option was impossible, because you knew all too well what was in store for you.

As if on cue, you heard him before you saw him.

Endless echoes of shouts, yelps and strings of curses followed you as you continued to flee from him. Boothill pushed, shoved and kicked absolutely every single person onto the ground if they dared to stand in his way, not giving a flying fuck - oh how satisfying it was to curse in front of him since you knew that he could not - any of them were hurt.

"Come back!" he yelled, his voice heavy and hoarse.

You did not turn around, such a luxury was not possible. Against your body's wishes, you ran.

He pursued.

A chorus of shots rang in the air, all of which were too close for comfort. None of the bullets were meant for you as the Galaxy Ranger was being pursued by the Bloodhound family, each one barking orders and insults at each other as they did everything they could to keep your so called lover in check.

As if Xipe themself had acknowledged your efforts, you spotted a tiny alleyway which was perfect to hide in. Boothill had lost his momentum due to his own pursuers, giving you precious seconds to decide on your next course of action.

And with the way you could feel your feet physically give into the pressure, you made your way into the pitch dark alleyway, carefully tip toeing around any possible source of sound. With a sigh you sat behind a large dumpster, the ultimate coverage in this time of need.

A faint glimmer of hope formed in your heart. It was hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you were free from his grasp. You'd much rather take in the stench of trash than his robotic arms, the memory alone making you shiver.

Behind the safety of your dumpster, the streets sounded like a mini warzone.

How typical of him. Being subtle was never his style.

Everything he did, Boothill did to be the biggest menace and pest known to society. He would tell you stories of his escapades as his eyes trailed over your whole body like a starving wolf, his sharp pearly white teeth almost looking like knives in your eyes.

Oh how he loved to sink his teeth into your neck. The noises you let out only seemed to spur him, giving him more motivation to mar your skin. Even now the traces were there, nasty and crude. Tracing a few fingers around your throat, you felt the raging pulse point becoming heavier and heavier, as if it was getting ready to pop and burst right in this dingy alley.

If it were not for the sounds of gunfire, you would have believed that your own heart was going to betray you. There was no way that no one was hearing this, the sheer intensity so strong and dizzying. Hot white pain seeped into your lungs and quickly made its way into your veins, chaining you onto the ground.

That's easy prey, you suddenly heard his voice in your head.

The second they're too scared to move, well I'll be fudged, that's when you shoot pumpkin'.

And you had quietly agreed with him on that summer eve. You could still recall how he hid you both beneath some bushes as he went to scavenge some food for you, showing you some tips and tricks along the way. You could recall the way the thorny bushes had wounded you, pricking the soft flesh of your arms, fresh droplets of blood coating the mostly dry ground.

It hasn't rained in ages on that planet, if you recall correctly.

Rain. What you would give for the fresh scent of the rain. The harsh droplets would mask the yelling, the roaring thunder could perhaps comfort you in some odd way.

And just like that, you wish had come true.

A single piece of evening dew feel on your cheek, the liquid oddly warmer than it ought to be.

You could not be bothered to care.

Closing your eyes, you decided to bask in the first moments of glorious freedom you had managed to steal for yourself.

Boothill had taught you well, ironically enough.

There would be no more yelling, no more loud gun fights, no more long distance traveling. No more needy Galaxy Ranger who wanted you to pay constant attention to him 24/7. You already knew where you wanted to settle somewhere, a quiet and quaint place, a place oozing with peace and serenity.

Much like this dumpster, but a lot more pleasing to the senses.

The streets were quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the music in the distance, a sound so hauntingly pleasant that it made you feel -

Quiet.

Why had it gone quiet?

Like a phantom he emerged from the shadows, his all too familiar silhouette taking over the entire alleyway. His footsteps were slow, methodic. Well calculated.

And like a true phantom, he never left you alone.

His presence was dark and imposing, testing out the waters to see whether or not you were going to come out on your own or if he had to get his hands dirty.

However, he did not give you the luxury of thinking.

"Found ya." he said through gritted teeth, his red eyes gleaming like stars in the night.

Stars you would have a hard time looking the same ever again.

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

read part two right here.

Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Your Wedding Dress

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.7k Warning : Angst. Get your tissues, I mean it. Synopsis : It was one thing to attend her wedding as a guest but to meet her before the ceremony? Would Matt have such strength in himself to face her? Notes : I listened to Phoebe Bridgers - Scott Street outro 1 hour on ytmusic while writing this. I suggest you do the same to get that maximum punch to the gut. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Matt’s grip on his white cane tightened as the smell of florals and champagne hit his nose. The soft sound of wedding symphonies was heard, and he could hear the bustling murmurs of the guests crowding the venue. This would surely be one of those days where he wished he didn’t have his heightened senses.

If only Fisk hit him a little bit harder on the head the other day. If only he’s gotten an important trial to attend to today. If only he’s got any other reason to pass up this harrowing day. If only.

Karen’s gentle squeeze on his arm is the only anchor Matt now has to not completely lose it. Foggy and Marci were a few steps behind them and though none of the four exchanged a word since they got out of the taxi earlier, Matt could tell from the beating of their hearts that they were worried too. For him or for her, he wasn’t sure. It would’ve been a pleasant mini reunion for them all if the circumstances weren't as unfortunate.

He knew that the grey cloud surrounding his head was contaminating such a pleasant morning. His sour expression was in contrast to all the gleeful smiles and happy faces the other guests have. He knew that he should, at the very least, pretend that he’s happy for her. Matt tried. He painfully has tried to be happy. To finally accept his final defeat in life and let her go, but it’s just such an impossible task to do.

Some people are bound to leave greater marks than others in your heart.

“Excuse me,” Someone called from behind the quartet “Is any of you by chance, uh, Mr. Murdock, Ms. Page, Mr. Nelson, or Ms. Stahl?”

“That is us all, actually,” Foggy answers, knowing that his best friend has no power in him to utter a word.

“Oh perfect! The bride has asked to see you all before the ceremony.”

The three friends glanced at Matt, waiting for his response. It was one thing to attend her wedding as a guest but to meet her before the ceremony? Would Matt have such strength in himself to face her?

Before any of them could say a word, the person who seemed to be one of the wedding organisers ushered them to a room. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. It was the only thing Matt could sense with every step they took. Like a magic spell binding him to follow blindly wherever it may lead. Even if that final destination might be his death.

His heart was hammering inside his chest. Like a hummingbird trying its best to flee its cage. Yet when the door closes behind them, when they’re finally given the privacy to see her alone, when the noise of the havoc happening outside was muffled and all he could feel is the serenity of this bridal suite, Matt suddenly feels like he was afloat.

“You guys made it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. Her voice was as sweet as a melted butter, yet it did nothing but make all the muscles in his body tense. His body went uptight. She was everywhere now. Her scent, her voice, her heartbeat. All of her is filling and suffocating his senses.

The sound of her dress sweeping the floor as she comes closer to them makes his heart ache. He wonders just how beautiful she must look right now. He wonders if she’s wearing that one dress she once described as her dream wedding dress. The one with thousands of mini buttons and a long sleeve of beautiful lace that feels like feathers when you touch it. He wonders if her dress has that long train that he argued would be quite a problem when she needs to do her slow dance later.

The four of them shared their small talk with Matt still busying himself to be desensitised with the event unravelling before his eyes. It proved to be a challenging task to do with her presence around. Everything about her just pulls him whole like a blackhole he couldn’t escape.

“Guys, would you mind giving me and Matt a moment?” She says at last. Matt could feel her heartbeat quickening a little “I don’t really have much time left before the ceremony starts, so if we could just have a few minutes..”

“Of course, yeah! Sure,” Foggy says fast “We’ll be outside.”

Matt could hear the soft sound of the door closing behind him yet it serves as a loud gun to his ears. He’s finally alone with her now, for God knows why, for God knows how long. A part of him wanted to throw away his cane and run towards the closest window to flee himself, but a bigger part of him wanted to melt his feet to the ground and bask in this moment forever.

“You look handsome,” She compliments, slowly taking closer steps towards him. Matt’s breath hitches when he feels her hand around his neck, trying to fix his collar “You’re wearing the tie I gave you back in college.”

“It’s the only nice tie I have,” He says with a smile “I’m sure you look handsome too.”

“Yeah, right.” She scoffs, Matt could tell that she just rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong? You don’t feel beautiful on your wedding day?”

“Oh, no, I do feel pretty, it's just..” She pauses, letting out a soft sigh “It’s just not what I imagined.”

Matt forces a smile, “Describe your dress for me.”

“Don’t you want to just touch it? I’m not the best at describing things, remember?”

“I'd rather hear you talk.” He says, he could almost feel the heartbreak mirrored in her heart beat “Please.”

“Well, uh, where do I start,” She says with an awkward laughter escaping her lips “It’s an off shoulder ball gown with some super tight corset. I’m supposed to wear a glove with it but I couldn’t be bothered. Oh, and the veil. The veil might be the cherry on top in this. I look like a ghost from the 1800s.”

Matt let out a genuine laughter, amused by the distraught she seems to be having, “So no mini buttons?””

She shakes her head, “No mini buttons.”

“No long sleeve with lace that feels like feathers?”

“No, no feather like lace.”

“And no long train?”

“No,” She says, this time with more shakiness in her tone “No long train.”

His tongue darts out of his lips, licking it as he tries to find a word to say, “That does sound like an awful dress.”

“It is,” She agrees in defeat “It’s the worst.”

Silence fell upon them. A familiar one that typically would be comfortable and soothing, yet for once it made them tick like a timebomb. Matt wishes that his abilities would extend into mind reading because God knows just how desperate he wanted to know what she’s thinking. He wanted to know the truth about her heart, what made it beat so loud whenever he laughed or smiled at her. He wanted to know what is making her eyes glossy right now.

“Rescue me, Matt,” She finally whispers “Get me out of here.”

Matt swallows the hard lump on his throat, “And where would we go?”

“Anywhere. We could go miles away from here or.. Or we could just go back to your apartment and drink some beer,” She begs, her sobs get louder as a tear escapes her eyes. She takes one of his hands that was clutching the white cane and places it on her cheek, trying her best to melt into his hold “Tell me that you don’t want me to go on with this. Tell me that this is a mistake, that us breaking up was a mistake. Tell me that you don’t want me to marry him and we’ll be free, Matt. We’ll be free.”

“You’ll never be free with me,” Matt argues, his own voice breaking “You’ll never be safe with me.”

And that’s when Matt feels it. His heart completely shatters as she breaks into tears. He could feel her trembling, feel the pain she’s going through with this marriage. He could feel the heartbreak and despair in her heart. He could feel the frustration and anger that she desperately wanted to vent yet had no outlet for. He could feel it all.

But this, as much as it destroys them both, this is what is best for her. She deserves to be with someone who could provide a stable life for her. Someone who doesn’t spend their nights haunting bad guys and going home on unGodly hours with blood and bruises littering their body. She deserves to be with someone who could protect her, not the one who would only draw danger towards her.

“I don’t love him, Matt. I never do,” She reasoned “I could never love anyone as much as I love you.”

Matt pulls her close for an embrace. He tries to eliminate all the space between them, pulling her impossibly close, yet it still doesn’t feel enough. It hurts him to know that for once their embrace couldn’t fix the problem at hand. He wanted her all for himself but even his greed isn’t as big as the love he holds for her. He couldn’t risk it. He just can’t.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers “I’m sorry you don’t get to have that dream wedding you wanted in this life.”

She remains quiet, her sobs are the only thing filling the room right now.

“Hey, look at me,” Matt says as he pulls away from the hug, cupping her face to make her see him “I’m sorry I caused us this mess, Baby. I never wanted to hurt you.”

She nods, forcing a smile, “I know.”

“I promise you, in every other universe, you’re wearing that wedding dress. You’re smiling and happy because I’ll be waiting at the altar, and I’ll cry. I’ll cry when I feel you walk down with orchids on your hand. And we’ll exchange our vows, and I’ll kiss you before the priest announces us man and wife because I just couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait.”

A laugh escapes her lips.

“And then we’ll make a fool of ourselves for our dance because what exactly can you expect from a blind man and a woman with an insanely long train of dress?”

“Oh, Matt,” She cries, pulling him for another hug “I love you so much.”

“I know, Baby,” He breathes “I love you even more.”

“Promise me this is the only universe where we don’t end up together.”

Matt pulls away. His thumb caresses her skin gently before pulling her for a kiss. The very last kiss they would share in this lifetime, “I promise.”

[chaoticspeedrun]

Hi, may I request?

How would my favorite purple boy be dating his first girlfriend? I personally headcanon him as bi, but just having never dated anyone(if that makes sense?). Like a really pretty girl(reader) befriends the turtles and starts asking about his work? I saw your Leo headcanons and fell in love <3

Rise! Donnie BF headcanons

AN: Let's celebrate that my posts are finally visible in the tags with some sweet Donnie headcanons! It makes a lot of sense anon, and I feel like it fits Donnie just right.

Pairing: Rise! Donnie x Fem! Reader

Type: Headcanons

Summary: How Donnie would be with his first girlfriend

Warnings: None.

MASTERLIST

•Donnie knew his preferences, men and women were both hot, he wasn't about to deny that.

•But ever since he got a crush on Atomic Lass he knew he had a type.

•Cute and mean.

•Considering the bad boy persona he liked to put on it simply made sense. Despite this he had never found himself in a situation where he wanted to date a person he knew in real life, yet.

•You were trying to get back at Kendra for messing with one of your friends, it had been so bad you wanted revenge.

•So you, in all your protective anger were about to hit one of the cameras to their hideout with a baton when you crossed eyes with a turtle trying to sneak into the hideout.

•Once you got over the shock and realized he wanted something from the dragons (And he had rendered the cameras useless) you decided helping him would be a sweeter revenge.

•Once that was done, Donnie tried to convince you that he was just cosplaying, but you weren't listening, you had leaned in closer to see his tech, specially his wrist band and he froze as your grin grew and you started asking questions.

•You were so impressed with his tech he got excited explaining the little details of it and all he had worked on, happy at realizing you were genuinely interested and preening at your praise.

•You kept talking for a while and ended up exchanging contact information.

•He was honest with himself a few days after you both started messaging constantly: Mean, cute and extremely pretty to boot, you were just his type.

•His brothers happily befriended you, but the more he brought you over to the lair the more they teased him about it, even April, the traitor.

•But she also convinced him to act on these feelings.

•Which is why he ended up reeling in happiness and relief after you said yes to going on a date with him.

•Few steps back, let's remember that Donnie had never dated anyone until you, you were his first relationship.

•So he acts all smooth and tries to impress you as much as possible at the beginning of this relationship.

•But inside he is panicking, he doesn't know what to do, what he's doing, how to read you, is he boring you? Would you tell him? He made a 12 step routine for your relationship based on what he researched were signs of a healthy relationship including times for cuddling, holding hands, listening to each other, asking about your mental state--

•You had to stop him from his strict routine, so you use the time on his schedule for honest talk to explain that you don't need the routine and a relationship is trial and error.

•You tell him you like who he is, that there will be ups and downs but as long as you communicate with each other you don't need a strict schedule of how long to hug each other for, just you both being comfortable and explaining what you like and dislike or what you would want.

•It takes a bit of you explaining the situation in what would be understood to him as a more efficient method than what he created, but you manage and he relaxes, his guard down for a bit as he asks if you want to just work on your own things in the same room.

•A lot of dating Donnie is you both being sarcastic and enjoying each other's company, often teasing and sometimes caring to make sure the other has a healthy routine.

•Specially you forcing him to go rest instead of sticking to whatever hyperfixation he has at the moment.

•Whenever he finishes a project he goes to you first, enchanted at your excitement over what he's been working on and flustered most of the time, though he won't admit it.

•He is not usually touchy, but most of the time as long as you warn him before hand he will happily enjoy your hugs and your hand holding or running your fingers over his marks.

•He flaunts, a lot, once the embarrassment of a crush has been replaced with you being his actual girlfriend he is shoving it on his brother's faces whenever possible.

•You know how he showed off his purple jacket? Yeah, that times 4 is how he talks about you.

•"Sweetums, have you seen S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?" co-parenting S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. is a thing, the little AI will often ignore Donnie to play games with you, Donnie says you should stop spoiling him.

•All in all he loves you, and he is extremely proud of being able to call you his.

[theblack3stday]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲 — remus lupin

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!musician!reader

Summary: while Remus is in a bad mood, your music makes him feel good

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none (fluff)

Remus Lupin was having a bad day. Actually, he has been feeling down lately, grappling with dark thoughts and feeling overwhelmed by his life. He knew that he shouldn't isolate himself, but it was hard to pull himself out of his slump when everything seems so pointless and bleak. It seemed like everything was going wrong, from the detention he got with the Marauders to the headache he had been having since this morning. And we shouldn’t forget the full moon which was after a week.

As he walked through the street he heard something that caught his attention. It was a low and calming sound - the sound of a brass instrument being played, an euphonium. He entered the place you were performing.

You were dressed in a uniform, which was weird because you were performing, but the truth is you were working there as a waitress. You approached your boss, begging him to give you a chance to perform. After so many unlucky trials, he finally agreed to give you a chance, but on one condition. You could only perform one song, and it had to be absolutely perfect. You prepare the song you've been practicing so hard at and take a deep breath before stepping onto the stage. Your heart is pounding and your legs are shaking, but you take control of your nerves and focus on the task at hand. The crowd falls into silence as you begin to play. As you play your song, you feel yourself relax and let the music flow through you. The crowd's silence fills you with a sense of confidence as you pour all of your heart and soul into the performance. Your fingers move effortlessly between the notes, producing a melody that is both calming and soothing. It's as if you and the instrument were one, making them sing in harmony. You feel a sense of satisfaction as you finish the last note and the crowd erupts into applause. From the corner of your eye, you see a brown haired tall boy on foot looking at you admiringly. As you look up, your eyes meet and you feel a spark of connection between you two. Your eyes linger on each other a little too long, feeling a sense of longing. You can't help but feel drawn to his gentle and warm gaze.

That night, your boss gave you the opportunity to perform one song each night. The permission came with a condition – perfection. As you stepped onto the stage each evening, the euphonium in your hands became an extension of your emotions.

Remus came to the same cafe every night, eager to watch you perform. And every time, your eyes meet, lingering for just a little too long, as if neither of you wanted to break the connection. The attraction between you was palpable, and yet it remained unspoken. Both of you felt the pull of the moment, the desire to know each other, but both of you hold back. Your eyes continued to meet each night, sharing the same silent moment of connection. Remus, dealing with his own struggles, found a comfort there. Though you never exchanged words, the unspoken connection spoke volumes. The room seemed to hold its breath as you played, your fingers dancing gracefully over the instrument. Your performances became a nightly ritual for both of you, neither of you wanting the night to end just yet. You shared a special connection in the moment, feeling drawn to each other, but still keeping a distance. Remus stood among the crowd, feeling his heart leap with each glance you shared. At these moments, the music played a larger role than just sound, becoming a conduit for emotions and expression. There was an electricity between the two of you, and each night it grew a little stronger.

But one night Remus didn't come. You couldn't help but feel disappointed when you realized he wasn't there. You looked around the cafe, searching for him among the crowd. You felt a strange feeling of sadness and longing, wishing he would have come. You played your song, but it didn't have the same energy as usual. Everything felt off without him there. You didn’t even know his name, but his absence was enough for you to feel bad. That night your boss told you that he couldn’t let you perform anymore. You were going to be the forgotten musician again.

The other day Remus came back. When he walked into the street, he was distracted by a familiar voice. As he looked around, he saw you. Your hair was tied up in a bun with a ribbons, giving her a somewhat more mature look. But it was your voice that drew his attention. You were singing a song, one that he had heard many times before, but this time you were on your own at the corner of the street. As you sing alone with no one paying much attention to you, Remus stands there listening, his eyes fixated on you the whole time. He had the impression that you are singing straight from the heart, pouring all of your feelings into it. You keep singing, and as the last note comes, Remus is still staring at you, unable to tear his gaze away.

"It's quite surprising to see you perform alone at the street, I've always seen you on stage. May I ask why you chose to perform here instead?” he asked, as long as your performance ends, his brown eyes reflecting genuine curiosity.

You met his gaze, the connection between you two intensifying as you explained, “Sometimes, the magic of music feels more authentic in the simplicity of the street. I’m just kidding, my boss told me that I couldn’t perform there anymore, because last night i performed kinda bad.”

Remus chuckled at your unexpected confession, the tension easing between you. “Well, I wasn’t there, but I’m sure that last night’s performance was amazing just like the night before, and before, and before..,” he replied with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise, the corner of your lips curling into a smirk. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that to spare my feelings?”

He shook his head, sincerity in his gaze. “Absolutely not. Your music has a way of reaching deep within, I could listen you performing forever.” The compliment warmed your heart. You felt a tingle of excitement as you hear his words, a warm feeling of butterflies filling your stomach. You couldn't help but feel your heart pounding in your chest, and a blush rising to your cheeks. Remus's words had hit home, and you couldn't help but feel touched. This connection that you were feeling felt so authentic and genuine. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him. You both stood there, staring deep into each other’s eyes, enjoying the moment and feeling the warm connection.

“What is your name? I don’t even know it, yet i find myself completely enchanted by your voice and your music.” he asks with a smirk on his face.

“My name is Y/n.” you reply with a smile. You see him smile back, and it feels like your worlds have merged. You feel his eyes on you, and the feeling is captivating. "Well, I’m still waiting to learn the name of the handsome brown-eyed boy who comes to watch me every night?"

“My name is Remus Lupin,” he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice. You notice a twinkle in his eyes as he teases you.

You grinned, “Ah, the mysterious boy finally has a name. What’s your story, Remus Lupin?”

“I will tell you, in one condition.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle “I had enough with those conditions!”

“This one is fun, trust me. You’ll sing and I’ll tell.” he says softly.

You looked at him surprised by his response. You have never thought that somebody would want to listen you performing.

Remus, still wearing that amused smile, couldn’t resist teasing, “So, Y/n, any chance I get to hear that magical euphonium again tonight?”

You responded with a playful glimmer in your eyes, “Well, Remus Lupin, if you’re a good audience and a good storyteller, who knows what might happen tonight?” you said teasing him back.

[devondeal]

Been talking with @jedimasterbailey and @bluedeedeedoop about the sudden flip in Barriss's fan reception since the TOTE trailer:

Gotta love how there were so few true Barriss fans who were always willing to see the potential in her story vs the majority who literally could only see her as a terrorist and a traiter saying horrible shit like she's worse than Anakin who literally commited genocide and other crimes.

Basically she wasn't a character to them. Just the person who betrayed Ahsoka. They could only see how the plot used her. Meanwhile Barriss fans payed attention to things facial expression, vocal inflection, dialogue and kept up with any scrap of an update about her for 12 YEARS.

All the while the Barriss haters and dude bros leave the nastiest comments on our threads and any Youtube video, Tik Tok, you name it, wanting to make it clear they want Vader to brutally kill her or basically their want for yet another complex Star Wars lady character to meet a horrible end.

But ever since the Tales of the Empire trailer came out her reception has been overwhelmingly positive. Don't get me wrong, this makes me really very happy. It's amazing what a little attention can do to change the narrative. But at the same time the sudden flip is a bit jarring.

Like why did it have to take a trailer to be able to see what a wonderful character Barriss is? Like I'm sorry but it's not rocket science to be able to tell that there was more to her than The Clone Wars was willing to show. Animation is VERY intentional. They would not have animated her with saddened and guilty expressions during the entire Wrong Jedi Arc.

Nor would they have wrote and partially animated the deleted scene of Barriss HUGGING AND SAYING I'M SORRY TO AHSOKA BEFORE THE TRIAL. They would have done NONE of that if the intention was a cut and dry villain.

It does not take rocket science to realize that The Clone Wars could have made their half baked terrorist plot at least make the bit amount of sense instead of having to see Jar Jar have a sex life or build up to her choices instead of a wander droid arc in early season 5 that is the literal worst.

I am happy that finally they will address Barriss in a new show with beautiful new animation. Though I am still nervous for what fate they will have her meet. And I am happy for the new Barriss fans that will come out of this series.

What I am frustrated with are the haters and dudebros. They can't just switch up. Writers deciding a character is worthy of attention is not a reason for y'all assholes who bullied Barriss fans all these years to jump on the bandwagon. Like at the fucking least admit you were wrong. Basically y'all are not welcome, idgaf

[chronophobique]

Cursed!Draco as a Triwizard Tournament champion

— 1135 words

content warning: drowning (no one dies I promise)

Draco knew, since the moment he thought he saw a green flash hit him during his heated encounter with that one student from Ravenclaw—whose name he’d never cared to learn—on the train, that something was wrong with him.

He could feel it every time he climbed stairs, when he found himself panting like an old man as if he’d never got used to climbing them in the past seven years.

But he wasn’t going to pay a visit to Madam Pomfrey just now and ruin his chances at finally proving himself.

Not when the Cup had chosen him. Not another Chosen one or a brave heart, like it had in the past. Him. The only student in this school who had been an Azkaban convict.

It hadn’t enchanted him, at first. The opposite, in fact. The war had made him a target—quite rightly. Now certainly wasn’t the time to be in the spotlight.

But it was his opportunity to show them he wasn’t the boy who had blindly listened and obeyed to stronger than him anymore. And he wasn’t going to miss it just because of some pain in his chest.

“Ten galleons that someone will take care of his case before he has time to step a foot into that arena,” he heard a Hogwarts student not so discreetly tell a Durmstrang student as he passed them in the corridor. It was the day before the First Task.

The dark-haired girl met his gaze, then, considering her answer, when a familiar bushy head interrupted her train of thoughts, a finger pointed at her interlocutor’s face. “We don’t bet on the champions’ lives, Darwin. Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

“You can’t do that,” Darwin exclaimed indignantly. “We’re from the same house!”

“All the more reason to teach you a lesson,” Granger snapped back, eyebrows drawn severely as she walked away, barely giving him a glance.

As with his trial in which she had testified on his behalf, it wasn’t the first time she put her nose in his business to get him out of an uncomfortable situation, and all it did was make him more confused. Angry. Ashamed.

The third time was during the Second Task, when he realised with horror and ever more incomprehension that she was the one thing that had been stolen from him.

It was already a surprise that he hadn’t drown in the first few minutes of the task, given that he had been denied access to the library due to his past and exposition to the Dark Arts and therefore had been unable to find a way to breathe underwater, but seeing her floating amongst the hostile merpeople for him to save really was the cherry on the cake.

As his lungs painfully rejected the freshwater of the lake, he hesitated. None of this made sense. What the fuck did it mean, Granger being stolen from him? What would it mean to others?

Still, he’d made it this far. Somehow. And before his brain could even process it, he was grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to the surface as if his four members now had a mind of their own.

Or at least, he tried, because as soon as he started kicking the water it suddenly felt like claws were closing around his heart, dragging him down.

Down.

Down.

Overcome by panic, he kicked harder, but his efforts were in vain. In just a few minutes, he lost his hold on Granger, breathed what he was convinced to be his last, and let the depths of the lake swallow him.

He regained consciousness with a start, coughing up all the water that had seeped into his lungs.

“Mr Malfoy, are you feeling alright?”

“Obviously not,” he rasped, lying on his side, going completely still when he noticed Pomfrey wasn’t the only witch present in the tent.

As soaked as he was, a few curls already sticking up on either side of her face, Granger was looking straight ahead. Like the last place on Earth she wanted to be right now was on this stool but she had no choice.

Looking down, he quickly realised why; her hand was laced with his.

Appalled, he tried to wrench it out of her grasp, but she held on strongly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Madam Pomfrey warned, a close eye on his vitals.

“Why not?” he asked through his teeth, goosebumps all over his skin.

“Because you’ve been cursed, Mr Malfoy.” She let that sink in, probably unaware that it was a daily occurrence for him. “And whoever hit you with it didn’t want you dead, but miserable for the rest of your life.”

That didn’t explain why Granger was holding his bloody hand. Merlin. He’d never had anyone hold his hand like this before.

“Well, clearly it failed. As you can see, I’m alive and don’t feel particularly worse than usual. Now tell her to let go of me,“ he groaned.

“The thing is you shouldn’t be alive. And you have Miss Granger to thank for that.”

“I didn’t do anything—” the latter said, still not looking at him.

“Voluntarily, no, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

He saw her stifle a laugh and wondered if he was imagining the pinker tint to her cheeks.

“Care to explain?”

“You were hit by an Octopus curse,” Pomfrey revealed, point blank, lips pursed. “A rare curse which forced your body to undergo certain changes in a very short amount of time, such as growing two extra hearts.”

Rendered speechless, Draco could only listen, though the warmth of Granger’s skin against his own was irritably distracting.

“Two hearts you’ve already lost,” she continued in a graver tone. “As one was apparently stopped with the Killing Curse and another deprived of oxygen for too long.”

“One heart left, lucky me,” he muttered sarcastically after a few seconds, sitting up and locking eyes with Granger. “And what should I be thanking you for, hm?”

Eyes as dark as he’d ever seen them, the witch looked like she wished he’d never resurfaced.

“You remaining heart, it seems, only beats because of me, Malfoy.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. What an insufferable show-off. “Yes, I figured,” he snapped. “What I meant was—”

“Because,” she cut him off, squeezing his hand so hard he feared for a second his bones would break. “I make it flutter every time our eyes meet,” she spat, her voice full of reproach. “And makes it beat faster when I touch you. I keep you alive.”

“In simple terms, she has your life between her hands,” Pomfrey added as if she fucking needed to. “So I suggest you listen carefully to what I have to say.”

[softboiledwonderland]

I'm rewatching The Librarians and I know everyone says S4 is the weakest season but like. it's perfect? It's literally art? Yes they went out on a limb a bit with some of the choices (not talking about the LITs arguing over who should be the Librarian, btw - of course they would! they had a whole episode about self-fulfilling prophecies! it makes so much sense in the context of the plot and their personal development), but! The last two episodes are perfect, just perfect, so genuine and heartfelt and earnest, everything I've loved about this show since the beginning, brought up to the next emotional level because hey - Eve carried the entire Library in her head and that's what saved it. And so did Flynn (Flynn!! Asylum Flynn broke me), and Jacob, and Cassandra, and Ezekiel! All of them are the heart of the Library, all of them are its keepers and its friends, they carry entire worlds in their heads and that's what saved the world! (I want to add something about Jenkins here too - I guess it's enough to say that none of them even wanted to stay on after what happened to him, of course he is its heart and keeper and friend too.)

That entire beginning of And the Trial of One, all dark and quiet and homey with Cassandra deciding to switch out the animal-cruelty stuff in the magic spell for tofu alternatives, hits so different knowing what's going to happen, and then there's that nightmare of a trial, and after that we step into that awful beige, mundane world without color or light or anything that means something, and Eve is trying to gather everyone and save them and slowly forgetting her home, everything that made her human instead of a shell, grasping at something that keeps slipping away like the memory of a dream… And Flynn!! Flynn who has been there for ages, and is still clinging to it! And the other three, who never forgot their dreams either!

And the writing, just the writing and the background music and the performances:

"You wonderful woman! You brought us all home." "You'll make me cry. I'm just a Guardian. Just doing my job." "No, you are the Guardian. You are my Guardian. Our Guardian." ;_;

"No, I gave everything I had to the Library, I gave it my love, I gave it my trust, and it took Jenkins! And I hate it!" (both Cass and I start sobbing here) "My best friend the sword, he taught me how to parry and thrust!" Flynn I love you so much <3

"We don't have to go home. We're already there."

I wouldn't say S4 is my favorite season, but in so many ways it's the most special one. Not because we say goodbye to the Library, but because the characters almost did - and then they brought it back, letting us know that it will always be there for us too.

[krakenartificer]

Today in "I understand why it happens but it's still frustrating"

I've been looking into topical magnesium, more commonly known as an "epsom salt bath". And, like, on the one hand, "alternative medicine" is a great source of ideas for treating medical conditions, and basically every single existing non-alternative medicine has been the result of doing some science on "alternative medicine" techniques. And on the other hand, the placebo effect is both strong and very real, and humans are terrible at understanding randomness, which is why we even invented science. You really do gotta check, you always gotta check. AND, back on the first hand, humans are eerily good at finding patterns, to the point where there probably ought to be a Humans Are Space Orcs story about it, and a lot of humans, whose conceptions of reality have been put through some pretty intensive stress testing, believe that epsom salt baths work. AND, on the second hand, we invented science, we have science, we ought to use science.

So anyway, several studies have looked into whether topical magnesium has any effect, and in 2017 someone went through and did a meta-analysis of it, and admittedly some of the studies were insufficient to draw any conclusions from them, but still, none of them showed any kind of evidence that there was enough happening here that it was worth looking into further. Since (despite our best efforts) you can't test everything, it makes sense to prioritize doing real amounts of research on things that are showing promise in the initial trials.

EXCEPT

none of those studies, nor the meta analyses, acknowledge that (quoting directly from the National Institute of Health)

Assessing magnesium status is difficult because most magnesium is inside cells or in bone. The most commonly used and readily available method for assessing magnesium status is measurement of serum magnesium concentration, even though serum levels have little correlation with total body magnesium levels or concentrations in specific tissues [https://ods.od.nih.gov/factsheets/Magnesium-HealthProfessional/, accessed 2023-03-28]

All of them checked whether topical magnesium influenced the amount of magnesium in the blood. And it does not. But that result is entirely consistent with the expected result if topical magnesium is absorbed into the skin: if your soft tissues, which hold 39-49% of your magnesium, are deficient, then you would expect it to stay in the nearest tissues, and not make it to the blood.

Which is not to say that this proves epsom salt baths work: this is the same result you'd expect if they don't work at all. Which is to say, the experiment would be expected to have the same result regardless of whether the hypothesis was accurate or not, which is to say, this was bad science. It tells us absolutely nothing. And it's especially frustrating because an experiment to test the actual claim would have been quite a bit easier -- measuring range of motion and muscle pliability is much cheaper than taking blood samples. A double-blind, randomized controlled trial would have been actually quite straightforward to carry out.

All of which is to say, I'm kinda thinking about buying 100 lbs of magnesium sulfide and finding myself some test subjects

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; yellow diamond

requested by ; anonymous (24/04/23)

fandom(s) ; steven universe

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; yellow diamond

outline ; “hey since you did relationship hcs for white diamond could you do some for yellow and blue too :D? (separately) love your works!^^”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

as far as being in an equal relationship goes, yellow diamond is extremely out of her element — she’s used to being in a position of distinct hierarchical authority, and only having one person who she truly sees is on an equal level to herself, and that mentality does cause a lot of conflict early on in your relationship

she takes care of you, of course, and always makes sure that you’re well tended to and have everything you could possibly want or need — making use of her countless colonies and underlings to ensure that this is the case, making sure that you’re worshipped and respected as an authority figure in the same way that she is

but yellow diamond is also quite emotionally distant and dismissive at times because of how busy she is, and unless you express a need for intimacy and affection to her then she’s not going to realise that you feel neglected — but even then it’s incredibly forced and stiff as she’s just not used to being physically or verbally affectionate with you, or anyone, quite yet (just give her some time, she’ll grow to love it)

if anyone dares to disrespect you or offend you in anyway then yellow will be swift to punish them for it — either poofing or outright cracking their gem, or sending them to trial to find a ‘better’ punishment if you’re less fond of execution

she doesn’t use any pet names with you and generally just calls you by your first name (or, maybe, a slightly shortened version of it), but if you insist on calling her a term of endearment then she’d probably prefer something that sounds more formal — think ‘my diamond’ but more affectionate, like ‘my dear’ or ‘my beloved’

she’s terrified of losing you as she did pink, which makes her extremely protective over you — refusing to let you leave her sight (whether that’s in her room on home world, in her palanquin when she’s on a colony, in her ship, etc) and having you accompanied by a large collection of amethyst and jasper guards wherever you go if she’s too busy to physically accompany you herself (she cannot lose another person she cares about; losing you would destroy her)

whenever you’re making a public appearance she makes sure that your outfit is spotless — having her servants dress you in her colours and in clothes that are as practical as they are formal — and that you’re mentally prepared for everything that is expected of you well in advance (memorising dances, practising posture and poses, mastering the perfect acknowledging smile and polite nod, etc.) so that there’s no chance of either of you being looked down upon

you’re the only person aside from pink diamond who has ever been able to make her laugh — and you’re also the only one who gets to see the ‘imperfections’ that she hides from the other diamonds and their subjects, such as her sense of humour and her insecurities about her place in the gem empire

no matter how busy she is, she refuses to move whenever you fall asleep on her — taking her calls wherever she is and working around you, instructing whoever she’s talking with to stay quiet as she doesn’t want to wake you (she thinks you’re so very adorable like that and she doesn’t have the heart to disturb your sleep)

she’d get you your own pearl, or an entire gem entourage, if you asked — making sure that you got only the best cut of each because you deserve only the best — but in the meantime yellow pearl is more than happy to entertain you when her diamond is working, and in fact you’ll likely end up getting along quite well as your relationship with yellow diamond progresses

[ezzerzerah]

Hear me out. And sorry if this already exists but I haven't seen it and it's been running rampant circles in my head.

So you, the reader, were injured or something happened that put you in the hospital. The damage or after effects are enough to cause the need for a caretaker. However, since you're too poor to afford actual health care and you wouldn't dare bother friends and family with it. But you desperately need a caretaker or it's cup-o-ramen for the next several months.

You're offered an experimental program operated by none other than Fazbear Inc. It's a trial based program where they send out an animatronic to help bedridden or dependent customers with their day to day. You don't really need THAT much attention, but you still need help. And since it's still in experimental stages, it's free! And who are you to turn down a free program?

You sign up, and with surprisingly fast delivery (almost same day), you receive your very own Fazbear Inc. State-of-the-art caretaker bot! Complete with the ability to look after toddlers, teens, pets, adults, and even the elderly. Equipped with the sensors to detect many MANY kinds of sickness and disease, and can also discern different medicines and what dosages to use.

All caretaker animatronics are meant to be slightly different. Some look like bears, and others look like rabbits or chickens. But those felt all too cheesy for you, so you chose one that looked like the embodiment of the sun crossed with a jester. When you received your new robotic caretaker, you were quite surprised by how advanced the technology Faz Inc was playing with. The Sun Jester, you later learn his design name is just Sun, is quite lively. Offering actual conversation, and not just basic and boring conversation, but interesting and captivating conversation!

As the weeks go on, your meds start to have an effect on your sleep schedule, whether causing you to fall asleep late or causing you to stay up all night. One week, you had gotten a total of 12 minutes of sleep, you know, because Sun scanned you and freaked out. His sensors were sent into a frenzy, and he.. shut down? Went to sleep? You couldn't tell. But he was out for several hours (4-5 hours max). When he did wake up, his appearance shifted as well. His orange and yellow shades shifting to cooler blue and white-gray tones. The rays that Sun often spun around or retracted into his head were gone. His outfit remains the same, except now he adorns a sleeping cap as well, one much like the hat Santa wears. Although this one is blue with yellow stars and it has a bell inside the puffball.

---

Anyone interested? I've been thinking about writing a fic for it but idk TvT

Sorry if this makes no sense 😅

[yanderedbdimagines]

How about Oni winning a "Trial Impossible" thing?(Like what you wrote with the Huntress and the Wraith?) Like a scenario about what he'd do with that prolonged amount of time with his "s/o"

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

Phew, I'm momentarily back from the dead again. I think I made it more of a reaction than a scenario, but I hope it's still up to par with any original expectations you may have had.

BTW: I see they changed some stuff when I try to post something.

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

The Oni

The imposing man, standing near the temple's main stairwell, watches your every move with intense scrutiny.

Despite the terrifying mask that covers his face, you feel his gaze upon you and it sends shivers down your spine. You swallowed, not liking it one bit.

The Oni, as he is known, has been uncharacteristically silent and distant since he won the Entity's trial. It was a trial unlike any other- the kind of trial that you nor the other survivors have never seen before in this form, with elements of a typical trial but with its own unique challenges.

The killer, however, seemed to have anticipated the trial and prepared for it in a way that seemed unusual to you. He communed with the Entity through deep meditation, something you had never seen him do before. During the trial, you realized what he had requested - nightingale floors installed around your room. The wooden floors would squeak and groan with each step, making it impossible for the other survivors to approach you without alerting the killer. It was this tactic that allowed him to win the game and claim victory, as the other survivors couldn’t even get close to you in the slightest without letting their presence be known.

You hated it. You hated him. You just couldn’t help it.

The Oni could sense your animosity towards him, made evident by how you seemingly welcomed the trial with open arms once you understood that the Entity granted you the chance to be rescued by the other survivors.

He understands that this only made his attempts at courting you even more difficult than it already was.

The language barrier between the two of you only added to the challenge, as were the customs of courtship in his time that were vastly different from those in yours. He realized that mutual consent must be a staple in your culture, and perhaps his physical advances were too much too soon.

If he wants to win you over, the Oni knows he must learn more about you and your world- your mind. He must understand your thoughts and beliefs, and what life was like for you before the Entity took you.

He recognizes that he needs to learn this English language, which has become the common means of communication in modern times. The Oni sees this as an opportunity to learn from none other than you.

With all the time in the world, he can dedicate himself to learning the language and gaining a better understanding of you and everything that you are. It could even lead to him recreating aspects of your former life, within the confines of this dark universe and his own outdated mindset.

In the end, the Oni knows that if he truly wants to make you his, he must put in the effort to bridge the gap between the two of you. He must learn from you and understand you, and he hopes that his efforts will be enough to win your heart.

[fastcardotmp3]

truman show esque "trapped in a reality you think is The reality when it is, in fact, just an experiment in which you are the subject" situation except when Steve gets dragged through the gate at Lover's Lake, when the rest of them follow him into the Upside Down, it's like the place has been adapting since the last time any of their people were here.

The Upside Down made itself into a mirror of Hawkins for a boy who it wanted to keep, but it didn't do so great the first time around. Vines and thick air and cold, it may have memorized the map of the place it was emulating, but it never quite got the details right.

The thing is, it's had time to learn. It was in Will's head, for fuck's sake, took over the bodies of countless Hawkins residents during the Starcourt fiasco of '85, so by the time Spring Break of '86 rolls around, the Upside Down knows.

It's a living thing and it knows better how to be a mirror, how to maybe better keep that boy here next time it gets ahold of him. Only before Will Byers has the chance to stumble his way back through one of the gates being created just for him, just for him and his sister, there are four others who are maybe a good trial run.

It's confusing for them, on the other side of being dragged to the bottom of a lake. It's confusing because it actually looks like Hawkins, smells like it, the water is the same in the lake and the mud feels the same on the shore.

It's less like being dragged to the bottom at all, actually, because the water makes them weightless, makes the transition disorienting rather than a clear crossing between worlds, so when they resurface and it looks the same it's. It's not the Upside Down the way Steve saw it in the tunnels, it's not the Upside Down the way Will or Joyce or Hopper or El described it.

Maybe there are hints and clues out and about-- unnatural chill for the season and tree roots that kick up out of the earth a bit more frequently, a haze to both nighttime and daylight that makes it feel gray and-- artificial almost? But none of that is enough to combat the sense of disorientation, the knowledge in their heads of what the UD actually looks like, and there's this fog in their heads...

There's this fog...

Their people aren't on the shore waiting for them under that starless night sky, but that's actually-- were there people waiting here for them at all?

It was just the four of them, right? It was just--

There are people here, when they decide to, um, "how did you hurt yourself, Steve? We need to-- shit, that needs to be disinfected, like, yesterday."

Robin's worried about rabies but Steve reminds her, "that's an animals thing, I just, like, fell on, uh-- those rocks at the lake? When we were swimming?"

It's too hard to question why they all went swimming in their clothes when it's this cold and dark. The fog is-- it's thick but also untraceable, it's like trying to make a logical decision in the middle of the most absurd of dreams.

It's like darkness encroaching in on your vision when you're involuntarily losing consciousness...

There are people here, when they decide to go find a first aid kit at Nancy's place because it's closest. There are a handful of cars driving around town, Mrs. Brady putting out her trash down the street when they sneak past.

Mrs. Brady, she was-- she is-- she-- but last summer during the-- the issue with-- there was a whole thing and she di--

Nancy's parents are out.

Steve's bites scrapes are oozing and painful and Nancy slaps at Eddie's hand when he tries to snoop at her diary.

The sun rises. The sun only just set. There are people here but they're-- were there people waiting for them on the shore?

There was something, some reason, why they were at the lake and that's important. That has to be important, somewhere beyond the fog.

When they fall asleep in the light of a too-quick morning, like the sun turned on rather than rose, it's not weird that there's no one else in the Wheeler house.

"Stop looking at me, I can feel you," Robin mutters as she dozes off to sleep on the bed beside Nancy, the boys on a spare mattress on the floor.

Everyone else is already asleep.

[ganondoodle]

the way i think about my stories can be so annoying bc there will be a point when i reach a certain story beat after which i dont know how to continue, and the way i do find are usually ... not good .. or i imagine it is not so i think man i cant do that thats so dumb and annoying i gotta think of something better, but then i cant come up with anything better bc once i got a solution to soemthign i cant think of anything smarter- and then i get bored of it as a whole bc man, this really was stupid from the start wasnt it

(this is all some stupid rambling and does NOT represent anythign that will happen in destiny, i swear the actual story with a proper end makes much more sense)

listen to me rambling but this morning i thought about the essentialyl non-canon good "ending" of destiny, a kind of self indulgent dumb lil alternative where everyone lives blah blah, but then of course it cant just end there, bc the end goal of the both of them is to find out the gods plan and secrets and also kill the gods, as you do, then i got a certain point that i found cool (which initially came from the whole thoguht of what if zelda game but you could play demise and it took place after the alternative ending in which the goal is to get rid of the gods) where the fight one of the gods but are kinda losing and as the god is trying to devour demise, as gods do, he abandons his body and his spirit/core, who cant exist without his body so hes still connected through the spirits tail , and climbs through the gods interdimensional weird 'mouth' while its trying to rip him apart to reach the core of the god in a last attempt to take them down with him, while hylia is fighting to keep the god from severing the thin connection he still has to his body but fails just as he reaches the core so the god is killed but his core is immediatelly starting to dissolve and hylia manages to grab his core and put it back into his body and flee from whatever is happeing to that dead god back into hyrule

he survives but is incredibly weak as his spirit has lost half of itself (blade spirits are also forged throguh sacrificing part of their spirit/core permantently but this is besides the point, none of this makes sense anyway), something he obviously hates but cant do anything about really, once a part of their core is gone its gone (not like lost energy but gone gone) but the core is also slowly dissolving further which is a death sentence with no way to act against- then theres a whole quest to .. well, stop that, while hes falling back into self hatred and fear bc hes now so weak that hylia can break his bones without any effort if she were to treat him in any way similar to before and to a deity that all their life was never so fragile, one whos most defining feature IS his power and strength to keep going no matter what, thats gotta be pretty existentially dreadful (and also its a set back to know that they cant just go fight the gods together like that, theres still two more and he cant fight like that)

then i wondered ok what if then, even if the time doesnt quite line up but at this point the entire prophecy cant be done anymore either so everythings out of order, the cloud barrier weakens and zelda is abducted (not by ghirahim) and link goes and tries to find her, but since everythigns not as it should have been he meets hylia and demise (disguised tho) and they immediately know who he is and then go along and try to help link find his friend (hylia does it bc she got the idea to make him find the triforce and wish demises spirit to be restored, since only a mortal can do that and links the most likely candidate to be able to go through the trials of it since he was supposed to already, even if the circumstances are different- demise goes along with it bc hes still trying to deal with essentially slowly dying and not knowing what to do with himself since hes afraid to get into fights or similar, much to his disdain, so hes acting like a companion of sorts, a mentor figure in a way, not knowing what hylias plan is)

i found the idea kinda interesting to have them be like a lil group that goes on links adventured with him, but with strangely intricate knowledge of how the dungeons work, link still doing the heavy lifting but them being there like parents cheering on their kid in a competetion, all the while putting the whole puzzle and dungeon aspect in a way different light bc half of them were never completed (they wanted to escape the prophecy after all) so they all work completely differently, some bosses being maybe some of the gods creatures instead (like the skysw guardians)- the mid journey point being that they find zelda, and who kidnapped her, it being one of the shiekah having most closely worked with hylia before the whole -break the prophecy- thing started (idk if it would be impa .. idea is neat) and is hellbent on making the gods plan work out like it was supposed to, kinda like the inverse of the games plot, so they got ahold of zelda as part of making her into the new hylia (despite hylia being .. right there, but they dont believe it is her truly since the true tm hylia would never betray the gods- ALSO a paralel to how the downfall of demises world worked bc his mortals turned on him after he started destroying their version of the triforce in the belief destroying it would be the only way to save mortals from going to war agaisnt each other for it over and over, mortals believing that their true deity was gone and replaced by a demon despite demise being ..right there)

after link wins the fight and frees zelda from them they in a kind of last effort to do anything against their group they stab demise, normally that wouldnt do shit against him but in his already fading away situation it basically puts him from very slowly dying to actually dying, as a reaction to it hylia kills the mortal (maybe impa idk), which is the first time she does anything like that to a mortal but i like the idea of her being actually super ruthless when it comes to things she cares about

now with a much more dire time limit hylia sends demise back to essentialyl go hide in her temple and try to not die and to trust her having a plan to make this all still work out- he does and once he is away she reveals pretyt much the entire story around why and what is happenign to link and zelda, hylia herself cant go above the clouds as the barrier is still partially up and she cant do anything to reach the triforce either - so she sends link and zelda to go do that, and it works out in the end bc even knowing the truth know, demise was with them on half of their journey so they know and care, he WILL be mad about them wasting their wish on him (even if he is still happy to be alive- i imagined scene where hes watching himself fall apart and die, alone in hylias temple, having to come to terms with the fact that after everything they had went through hed still die alone- it made me cry while thinking about it, yes, yes you are allowed to laugh)

i didnt get that much further but his spirit was essentially reset to when he was in his prime back in the day through the triforces power- something he both likes and despises, it being the gods power of all things that lets him live again, but also lol to use it agaisnt them by giving another chance to the gods greatest enemy- the next plan is of course to kill the next one of the gods but much better prepared, as they cant just go and do the same thign again (neither wants that), one idea was that hylia goes on a secret quest to try and bring back courage (the third deity that demise killed when his world was still thriving) but it involves diving back into the realm of the gods so she doesnt tell him at first, i do think theyd go together in the end, not to fight but to release courage; the whole thing is also an elaborate revenge plot of hylia, how dare the gods do that to him!!

anyway thats most of what i got from that thinking session but its so frustrating bc none of this is even in the actual comic (since it ends in a way that leads into canon skysw, this is some brain fart nooo i want blorbo to live and succeed!!) and its also convoluted and kinda dumb, the idea to inverse the games plot in a way (instead of it being ghirahim trying to bring demise back its someones plan to make the gods prophecy happen no matter what) is neat but i cant have demise almost dying be the thing THREE TIMES, it kinda undercuts his character and is way too much centered around him, all three times also more or less involving it needing help from others to get him back, when his whole thing should be being unkillable bc he jsut keeps refusing to die, also hylia is, as of now in this spaghetti derailment of random thoughts, way too much of a side character, which i dont like, and it all would make people not like demise when im trying to do the exact opposite of that in the main actual comic

i know being super self indulgent and jsut doing what you want is good for the most part but theres a point where it becomes stale cringy fantasies about my blorbo tm and i wanna write at least decent stories- in the end none of this matters anyway as the actual REAL story of destiny is already pretty long and i got no plan to write that alternative 'good ending' anyway and i mostly just thought about it bc "i dont want blorbo to die :(" and "wouldnt it be fun if the entire plot of the game would get messed up and now demise link hylia and zelda etc can all just drink tea together and make plans to get rid of the gods that wanted them all to suffer needlessly"

i probably shouldnt post this as it was really only a vent to get out dumb thoughts from my brain before they poison me into losing interest of the biggest comic project i have worked on so far but i am unable to keep these things to myself so

if you read all of this, im sorry (´。＿。｀)

[inmateofthemind]

Have Some TWST Fan Lore Part 1: The Arcane Exchange

First of all, credit to @cyanide-latte for coming up with the event name because it just sounds so lovely, doesn't it?

Now, the Arcane Exchange itself is a fairly straightforward "what it says on the tin situation"; it's Twisted Wonderland's version of a student exchange program.

For approximately three months a year (my friends & I are currently working off the idea that this begins very shortly after the end of Book 4's events), students from various arcane academies will host each other and participate in certain events meant to strengthen the bond between the schools without it necessarily having to be competitive. After all, one of the last events that happens before the students are sent back to their respective schools is the National Arcane Academy Culture Fair that mainly works as an expo/convention (aside from the SDC, but you know).

There's a fairly substantial number of students from each school that get selected to participate, and then those various groups are semi-randomly split up amongst the other academies. (i.e Night Raven will host only some of the students from the other academies. Meanwhile, the NRC students going abroad for the exchange will be separated among the other schools).

In the case of Night Raven specifically, all visiting students are distributed amongst the seven dorms in a shared learning experience 'like a great big sleepover'. This is met with mixed results most times, but nothing too crazy since there are enough empty beds based on the number of NRC students having gone off to the other academies.

Speaking of, lets get into the schools involved in the Arcane Exchange!

Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy are the obvious picks, but that's also a rather obvious recipe for disaster due to their long-established rivalry...if left on their own, at least. Hence the inclusion of other schools to act as a kind of buffer that actually tends to work due to the neutrality of the other two schools.

Noble Bell College does participate(probably the least since they seem to be the smallest school in both scope & population), and the group of myself, Cy, @ramshacklerumble, and @simons-twsted-children have even recently discussed an interesting debate on whether Noble Bell is co-ed. This is important due to the final participant of the Arcane Exchange.

Corlux Key Seminary(CKS), a paramilitary arcane institution of my own creation that will be discussed in more detail in a later post. Corlux is explicitly co-ed in both students and staff; the gender distribution is almost perfectly split down the middle if not outright in favor of the female-identifying population. Despite this progressiveness, however, the Arcane Exchange a bit of an interesting sticking point for CKS (& NBC to a certain extent). While the male students can be assigned to whatever institution they like, the female students of both schools are only ever exchanged with each other. In regard to any potential PR nightmare an incident occurring on campus could cause, this makes sense. Doesn't mean it's not a bit sexist though.

The Arcane Exchange is a fairly standard practice that has even fostered some grand shows of academic comradery, though there have been some....memorable moments over the years as well. For instance, the Arcane Exchange that happened the year before TWST canon starts was Not Fun for NRC as hosts because both the RSA & CKS kids were terrible. As in 'it was considered the 'trial by fire' for both Riddle as a freshman-year Housewarden & the OctoTrio as the staff of the newly-opened Mostro Lounge' kind of terrible. As such, none of the Housewardens are particularly excited when the meeting before the start of the canon-year's exchange approaches. And they're about to feel a lot more ill-at-ease when Crowley rather casually drops this little bombshell;

For the first time since the start of this most noble tradition, Night Raven College will be opening its doors to a selection of female students from Corlux as a kind of experiment of 'broadening horizons & relations' between the academies. If this particular Aracne Exchange proves to be successful (meaning nobody does anything to 'embarrass' NRC and/or CKS), then there's the chance of expanding the openings for female students to participate at RSA's end of the Exchange as well as Noble Bell being able to similarly 'branch out' as it were.

Now that begs the question; is Crowley really about to let a relatively small group of girls onto an all-boys campus & just have them shack-up in the dorms? "NO! Absolutely not; I would never do anything so foolish and dangerous to those promising young pupils! As a matter of fact, I have arranged for all of the female participants to have accommodations all to themselves for their comfort and safety. Oh how generous I am; it's almost unnerving!" Now if only Crowley had thought to mention to the host of those accommodations that they're about to find themselves with a LOT more roommates than the usual weasel.

Apologies to one Gia Yugo...

NOT! This is going to be fun~ >:)

Taglist: @cyanide-latte @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @ramshacklerumble (let me know if you also want to be tagged)