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ameliemaaaee · 2 days

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The Silent Witness - Oneshot Series

(1) How you Meet the BAU Team.

Chapter Information Summary: Y/N finds herself enravelled in the depths of a puzzling case which can only be solved in conjunction with one infamous FBI unit. Pairing: S.R x F!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warnings: Criminal minds canon gore, Alcohol consumption, Reader shares a bed with Spencer, that's it i think?!? Word Count: 7,986. Read on AO3

Story Masterlist - (1) -

The London Underground was not your favourite place. Yes, you were grateful for London’s fabulous public transport system, especially on the mornings where bumper-to-bumper traffic would only frustrate you more. However, the constant work-day rush of people in business attire, provided a stark contrast to all the tourists in their flamboyant outfits, both equally surmounting your dissociative annoyance.

Not to mention the germs. There was a study done on that. It proved that, when swabbed, The London Underground was the dirtiest place in the city, with ninety-five different strains of bacteria found. In fact, you happened to be friends with this researcher, who in confidence told you that even a one-hour trip on the Tube is enough to raise the long-term risk of heart attacks. And this was simply due to the air pollution. It made you shiver just thinking about it. It was a shame driving in the city was slower.

You were rushed to say the least, evading the rush hour was top priority when you weren’t on call, however an interesting case had come in and your expertise was required. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be in high demand, despite your age you were renowned in London for your competency as a forensic pathologist.

Your life for so many years had resolved around the dead, those whom you had to pry the clues out of. Work remained your whole life, the ability to gather evidence from the silent witness, and bring justice to many was beyond comforting to you. The feeling of winning a case against someone you had scientifically proven guilty, defeated the solemn, and gruesome nature of your job by ten-fold.

Now, you focused on the rattling train below your feet as you timidly clutched the railing above your head. The shuddering sound of the train drawing to a halt beneath your feet, rocking you back and forth. This was it.

The platform was abnormally busy as you made a beeline for the exit, barely noticing the busker who provided the soundtrack to the mornings of so many, for so cheap. Bounding up the steps you surfaced alongside block-red lettering screaming ‘Charing Cross’, The Embankment was just a short walk from here.

You weren’t too sure of the details of your newest case, quite simply that it was ‘a big one’ and that it was a rather public disposal. Public disposals were common in London, however public disposals in busy Underground stations weren’t. Especially with the Night Tube services. A public disposal site told you that this kill was a threat. Whoever it was wanted their attention, they wanted their case to be public, the wanted London to shudder with fear. But alas, the closed station required more walking.

Brushing shoulders with strangers, much like the rest, your gaze was dead set on where you were going. And as The Embankment station neared you sighed. This was tourist London, The Embankment opened out onto the Thames, and once you reached the Thames, Westminster, and Big Ben was in View, and the famed London Eye. But you didn’t have time to take in the part of the city you never dared to enter, you had work.

As you reached the station the Mounted Police immediately caught your eye. Sat astride their horses were people attempting to control and direct the crowds back to Charing Cross; no wonder it had been so abhorrently busy. Ducking under the police tape you were greeted by an uninterested officer who guiltlessly looked you up-and-down. Plastering a smile on face you removed your identification and shoved it politely into his face.

“Dr. Y/N L/N. Home-Office Pathologist.” The officer remains stoic, thumbing you towards a set of stairs where a familiar face stood, ever-stoic, patiently waiting.

“Where’s the body?” You omit the greeting. Angela knew you too well, and you both were past the ‘good morning’s’ and ‘hello’s’ that seemed the ever-so-polite thing to do.

You were a tight-knit pair, ever since school, and bonding over your preferred use of the Oxford comma, you had both shared a solid friendship. It wasn’t based off greetings or words, nor a physical display of affection. It was based off the reliability and trust you felt for each other. It was a simple, and honest friendship. That allowed you to occasionally let-loose on your days off. But today would not be one of those days, in fact you wouldn’t see one ever again.

“The top of the stairs, it’s a male. He’s probably in his 30’s. He has a series of interesting tattoos.” Angela’s candour filled your ears, her level tone forever reassuring you of the collective, daily, London anxiety, which seemed to radiate throughout the city.

“Interesting how?” You raised a brow in curiosity, a small chuckle escaping your lips as Angela rolled her eyes, pushing her teal-ish hair behind her ears, mixing it with her original black-ish strands.

“Interesting as in, you-need-to-see-this-and-contact-the-appropriate-people. That kind of interesting.” She said it so nonchalantly, ‘call the appropriate people.’ That didn’t sound interesting, that sounded like ‘this-guy-has-tattoos-relating-to-some-form-of-terrorism-plans-and-you-should-bring-in-counterterrorism’. And boy, were you right.

“This is bad.” You deadpanned, you had no adjectives for how bad it was, other than it was very, very bad. The police officer a great distance behind you bit his thumb anxiously as you stood buried in a white HazMat-style SOCO suit, Angela kneeling beside you, silently shaking her head.

“Angela, I don’t even know who to call about this.” You gestured to the male lay ahead of you, his body scrawled with descriptive instructions on ‘blowing up the D.C Capitol Building.’

And that’s how you ended up at a bar, drinking with the FBI’s distinguished Behavioural Analysis Unit.

The thrashing of bass pounded against your chest as you sauntered through the doorway, away from the cool night air and into the warmth of the bar. You weren’t expecting there to be any live music, but you were pleasantly surprised by the quality of the music, that soon would be drowned out by cheap liquor.

The rest of the BAU trailed into the establishment behind you, slight grins on their faces. All of you had changed, ditching the work clothes. The FBI’s plane would be grounded until tomorrow evening, so they were officially off-duty, and allowed to have fun.

And by the looks on the group’s faces you all needed this, the tensions had run high during your latest case and there had been weeks’ worth of sleepless nights, that the medical doctor deep down inside you didn’t approve of.

“Let’s find a booth!” Garcia practically yelled down your ear over the music. You nodded pointing to a room that sat off the main stage area, where it would undoubtedly be quieter.

Heaving a sigh of relief you slid into a booth, in between the males you had come to know as Dr. Spencer Reid, and Derek Morgan. The men all chuckled lightly as Agent Hotchner stands.

“First round is on me!” You laugh quietly, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face before giving Hotch your order, double vodka and Diet Coke, your drink of choice.

“You know, I’d never been to London until now.” Derek chuckles, as he leans forward, his elbow resting on the table. His gaze connected with yours.

“It’s a nice city.” Spencer chimes as you shake your head laughing.

“You haven’t even seen it.” You smile, leaning back against the plush backing of the circular booth, your gaze finding Hotch who was carrying a tray of drinks, making a beeline for the table. You hadn’t had a night out in so long, you were practically buzzing at the concept of alcohol.

The band’s melody had faded to a distant hum, your heart synching with the echoing bass that still rumbled the ground beneath your feet.

“I must say, you scrub up nicely Dr. L/N.” You turn your head to Derek who takes in your frame. Derek was an attractive man, you couldn’t lie, and you knew he meant no harm by his comment, but you couldn’t help but feel scrutinised.

You offer him a polite laugh, before turning to Hotch who was dishing out the alcohol. Gratefully you took your drink from his hand, taking a long sip. If you wanted to be able to actually hold a conversation without being too uptight, you would need to be at least tipsy. Plus, the alcohol made you forget about… well, the alcohol that was terrible for your health.

“So, Y/N, I assume this has been an interesting week for you?” You chuckle at Rossi, who raises his glass, before sipping on what appeared to be whiskey.

Due to the commotion at the Police stations, and the high-risk of having FBI agents in London they had been assigned to a more discrete location; and lucky for you, that was your lab.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to having FBI agents in your jurisdiction, in fact it was the opposite. You were fascinated by their work, in law-enforcement they were truly celebrated for their research, and work. You just weren’t too chuffed by the idea of new people, of which there were now seven.

They all looked, strangely, just how you would imagine a team of FBI agents looking, all but one. The flamboyant one. She was dressed in a way you could only describe as eccentric, her blonde hair curled at the ends, sections held in place by red-rose clips to match her dress. She seemed friendly, despite the sombre circumstances, a half-smile chopping her features.

The rest seemed to blend in. There was another woman, her slender frame, and long blonde hair somewhat reminiscent of the mean girls at school. The rest were all male. We had, the obvious team leader, he stood tall, clad in a black suit. How would you chase bad guys in that? Next, was the cliché buff guy, who spent too much time at the gym. Finally, the skinny, sweater vest guy, and an Italian?

“You must be Dr. L/N.” The team leader spoke up, making his way towards you, his hand outstretched. You found yourself staring at it for a brief moment, as if the action were strange to you, before you realised, he wanted a handshake. You offered a slight smile as you reluctantly gripped his hand, shaking it.

“Supervisory Special Agent, Aaron Hotchner, but you may call me Hotch.” You nod, keeping your gaze on the floor. You were in a room with a bunch of criminal profilers. That was scary. Could they profile you? Would they? Were they profiling you right now? You weren’t exactly keen on the gazes boring into you.

“This is my team, we have Supervisory Special Agent, David Rossi.” You wave awkwardly as he gestures to the Italian guy, unsure of what social conduct was required to meet criminal profilers. David Rossi smiles at you, offering a brief salute that would have made you chuckle in better circumstances. Perhaps you would be better, in better circumstances.

“Supervisory Special Agent, Jennifer Jareau.” The pretty blonde leans forward hand outstretched, as you smile awkwardly. Her grip was firm, irking you less that Hotchner’s handshake. However, you already felt inferior to these individuals, no number of correct-introductions or doctorates could save you. They hunt criminals for a living. Yes, it may not need a doctorate, in fact, you weren’t sure any of them were doctors. But they certainly weren’t cowardly in a mere social situation, like you.

“Supervisory Special Agent, Derek Morgan.” You react quickly this time, lifting your hand in a quick, but still awkward wave to the incredibly muscular guy in front of you. Derek Morgan seemed like such a fitting name for him, in fact, you weren’t sure there was a name more suited for him in all the 5,163 first names, and 151,671 last names commonly used in the United States of America.

“We also have our Technical Analyst, Special Agent, Penelope Garcia.” The eccentric techie waves her hand cheerily, a wide smile breaking out on her face. She seemed sweet, and you were glad to see a female computer nerd. There certainly wasn’t enough of them in this universe. Her grin was infectious as you attempted to hide yours with the floor.

“Last but not least, we have our resident genius.” Your head snapped up at that. ‘Resident genius’? What rendered this guy a genius? You supposed, he looked smart. But you couldn’t quite decipher if it was just the sweater vest. In fact, he looked more jet-lagged that smart.

“Supervisory Special Agent, Doctor Spencer Reid.” Ah, a doctor.

You smile slightly, glad the introductions were over.

“Yeah, I have worked a fair few high-profile cases in my time, but this probably tops them.” You smile at the group, your gaze connecting with JJ and Garcia who both offer you sweet smiles. You can feel Spencer’s gaze on you as he clutches a glass of water in his right hand.

“It certainly tops ours.” JJ smiles, leaning towards you, a chuckle escaping her lips. “I never thought we would see an international case, never mind this.” You smile, bringing your drink to your lips, taking a refreshing sip.

“I- How do you do what you do? I mean- the chopping and the blood and guts and-“ Garcia frantically waves her hands in front of her, very nearly knocking over her martini as she rants.

“Garcia- she’s used to it, just like we are.” You nod in agreement with Hotch, your ears tuning in the set change happening with the band next door.

You scan the remainder of the room you were in, the bar was fairly quiet, most of the younger crows would have moved onto nightclubs by now. You could see various groups of people seated in their booths, most of them appearing as if they were celebrating, which felt fitting for your occasion.

“You know-“ You turn back to Rossi who was pointing a finger at you, a sly smile on his face.

“-I thought this week was going to be a drag when you asked us to surrender out firearms.” You watch as small chuckles erupt from the rest of the team, allowing yourself to join in with them.

You watch the team, stare at you expectantly, kicking yourself into gear.

“I have a room for you, a conference room.” You direct your statement towards Hotch who nods his head sharply, gesturing for you to lead the way. And you did. You guided them towards your conference room.

It was a large room with glass windows. On the back wall was a large TV screen designed for presenting, in the corner a safe. It was quite simple by design; a room, a TV, a table, and chairs that surrounded it. You weren’t sure it was FBI approved with its scratchy carpet and simplicity, but it would have to do.

“I hope it’s okay.” You try to say it with confidence, as you stand by the door the agents filing into the room, but your voice comes out as more of a squeak. Typically, this causes you to make unnecessary eye-contact with the Doctor.

“Uhm- You are going to have to surrender your firearms.” This certainly got a reaction from all but Aaron Hotchner, who likely, was aware of this.

“Why?” The doctor spoke up, as the rest of the team curiously gazed at me.

“Fire-arm residue. You are gonna be around bodies that haven’t had post-mortems, and you could contaminate them. So, I take the arms.” You watched as half of the team swallowed harshly, obviously not-to-sure about not having a weapon, which was such an odd reality of Americans.

“You’ll get them back, don’t worry. It’s just anywhere beyond this room would count as an unnecessary contamination. I think your Unit Chief was informed?” Your gaze turned to Hotchner who nodded.

“Guys, the weapons will be retrieved if we are leaving the building.” The team nod, clearly becoming more willing to surrender as they remove their holsters. You reach for a plastic box, holding it out as you walk around the group, being handed the various heavy weapons.

“I don’t carry.” You nod politely at the technical analyst, moving finally towards the male you now knew as Spencer Reid. He placed a revolver into the box, odd choice.

“Okay this is your safe, the code is 62282. Please remember it.” You quickly place the weapons, and the plastic box into the safe, locking the door with a loud beep. Before you walk to the door, watching everyone settle in.

You stand uncomfortably at the door as you watch them lay their belongings down on the table awaiting some sort of response, or a cue to leave.

“Yeah, I don’t have a good track record when I’m not carrying a firearm.” Spencer chuckles, pulling his glass back up to his lips.

“Boy wonder here doesn’t do well in close-combat situations.” You watch as Derek reaches over you, ruffling Spencer’s hair, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

“Awh, it’s okay. I don’t think close combat would be much use against someone with a bomb.” You offer Spencer a friendly smile, as his gaze connects with yours. He offers you a shy smile as you nod towards his glass.

“No alcohol? Very responsible.” Spencer shakes his head, still grinning.

“Someone’s got to be sober.” You nod, laughing as JJ and Garcia stand, walking towards you.

The pair grab you by the arms, attempting to pull you over Spencer, you chuckle awkwardly as Spencer stands, allowing them to drag you out of the booth. They wrap their arms under yours as you stumble on your heels, feeling the alcohol hit you.

“We are dancing.” Garcia gently taps your nose with her pointer finger as JJ supports you on your feet. She laughs as you feel your face pale slightly.

“I-I don’t dance. Plus, this is a bar, not a nightclub.” Your gaze falls on the rest of the team who seem extremely amused at the girl who couldn’t stand properly after only one drink. You sigh slightly.

“I’m a doctor, I know how bad alcohol is, so I don’t drink often, okay?” You watch as the remaining men laugh at your dramatic statement as JJ slowly releases you from her grasp, satisfied that you would be able to stand alone.

An idea pops into your head.

“People don’t dance in bars over here, but I do know my way around London.” You raise a brow, watching as the team look at you inquisitively.

“You lot hunt serial killers. How about Jack the Ripper? Spencer you could be the tour guide!” You laugh as their faces morph into one of understanding, a look of excitement settling on Spencer’s face.

“Alright, we have work to do. We need to start brainstorming.” Hotch’s voice rang out throughout the room as he gestured for you to make your way to the front of the room.

“Okay, so there has been no post-mortem done as of yet, but I can show you pictures from the crime scene yesterday, and the close-ups produced by my lab tech.” You stand in front of the team, all eyes trailed on you. You quickly turned the TV on with the remote, leaning over the table and logging into the laptop.

“So, the unidentified male is assumed to be around 27 years old, he was found in a very public London Underground station, lay on his back. As you can see, he was shirtless with an intricate tattoo scrawled over his body.”

The team nods, as you pull up the picture. The screen filing with the photos of a dead man shot point-blank in the head. You notice the team’s tech analyst wriggle uncomfortably in her seat and you chuckle.

“I’m so sorry, feel free to look away if you need.” You smile at the woman as she gives you a small grin, opening her laptop and beginning what you assumed was some sort of research.

“What Underground station was he found in?” You smile as Rossi speaks up, leaning forward to your laptop, laughing.

“I have a map for you, I figured it would be more use than just giving you a name.” You pull up a map of the London underground system against the landscape, turning to see it on the television screen.

“Okay so, the male was found at The Embankment station which-“

“-The Embankment has a huge, empty substation attached to it, that has actually been abandoned since 1957. It’s called ‘Pages Walk’ and is located behind a blast door in the station.” Dr. Reid cuts you off, as you chuckle. You smile politely at the rest of the team, the male introduced to you as SSA. Morgan held his head in his hands, shaking it slightly.

“Right, you are doctor. I was going to say that it was notoriously ‘Tourist London’, and opens out onto the Thames, with all the tourist attractions, but that works too.” You shrug, offering Spencer a slightly awkward thumb up.

You widen your eyes at the sound of your name, making eye contact with the lanky Dr. Reid who was now making his way over to you. Work talk, you could do that. Spencer stood beside you as you watched the team settle for a moment more, before following you out of the door.

“How many times do you reckon I will have to remind you lot of the safe code?” You chuckle to yourself, trying to make simple, light-hearted conversation. He was a doctor, maybe you could level with him?

“I have an eidetic memory.” His reply was so simple, so nonchalant. But it caused you to furrow your brow. He was a resident genius, and you were not going to be capable enough to level with him. You open your mouth as if to speak but decide against it. No need to incite more awkward interactions.

Instead, he decided to incite it.

“How long have you been a pathologist for?” His question was simple, the answer was simple. So why were you panicking? You knew that you felt inferior, but that wasn’t something that bothered you often. Spit. It. Out.

“Uhm, around four years.” You reply, trying to keep your voice level, and even. Anything to illude to your oh-so-confident demeanour.

“You seem young.” It was a statement, phrased like a question, one that needed answering. You weren’t young, you were 29. But by normal standards, you were too young to be a pathologist of five years.

“Yeah, I guess? What are you a doctor of?” You quickly deflect the question, but almost immediately regret it.

“I have, uhm, three PHDs.” You try not to hold your mouth agape, resident genius ringing in your ears. You were only slightly glad of his hesitation. Surely announcing you had three PHDs wasn’t easy. That required admitting that you were a superior being. But then again, with an eidetic memory it was no surprise he had 3 PHDs.

“They are in, uhm, chemistry, mathematics, and engineering.” You nod, humming along in affirmation as if this were a normal thing, and frankly you surprise yourself. Once you got over the initial shock it wasn’t so hard to act like you were in the presence of a regular person.

The team stand from their seats fairly quickly, accepting the concept of a drunken Jack the Ripper tour. Despite the lack of alcohol in his system Spencer’s got a massive grin on his face, and practically shaking with excitement.

Dragging them out into the chilly London air you stop suddenly, gasping.

“We should get alcohol, to-go!” You turn to face the team, your eyes wide with a sense of wonder at your marvellous idea. Only being egged on by Garcia, Morgan, and JJ who cheer loudly at your proposition.

“Isn’t that just a liquor store?” Spencer’s brow is furrowed in confusion, trying to work out what alcohol to-go was, and he wasn’t too far off.

“…and a bad idea?” Rossi follows, pointing an accusing finger towards you.

“…and illegal?” Hotch follows Rossi with a chuckle.

“No, it’s actually perfectly legal here, and liquor stores are expensive, we’re going to Tesco.” You clap your hands jumping on the spot excitedly, before making a beeline for the Tube station.

Whitechapel was shockingly quiet, for this time of night with only the distant humming of the main roads to remind you that you were in fact in one of Europe’s busiest cities.

You and the rest of the BAU team ambled through the narrow alleyways that once housed one of the world’s most prolific serial killers, Spencer occasionally pointing to various street-corners and naming one of his five canonical victims.

“You know, In the Victorian era the basal population of Whitechapel was swelled by immigrants from all over, particularly Irish and Jewish. This poverty drove many women to prostitution; The victim-pool of Jack the Ripper.” You turn to Spencer who’s walking closely by your side, something he had obscurely insisted on.

“Yeah, In October of 1888 the Metropolitan Police estimated that there were 1,200 prostitutes ‘of very low class living in Whitechapel and about 62 brothels.” You pipe up, a smug grin settling on your face as you gaze at Spencer, eyes narrowed.

“I know my facts doctor.” You slur. Spencer laughs, reaching out for the bottle of sweet beer in your hand, removing it from your grasp, as you gasp, attempting to grab back the bottle that he holds high over his head.

“Hey!” You pout as Spencer tosses the bottle into a nearby bin. You are quickly distracted by the way your trip over your own feet.

“Woah, woah! Confiscating the alcohol was a good move on my part.” Spencer mumbles as he grasps your shoulders, steadying you on the pavement. You both stop, turning to see Derek stood with Garcia, staring right at you and Spencer, a glimmer in his eye.

You look past him to see Hotch, Rossi, and JJ slowly walking towards you both. Hotch and Rossi had drunk nothing since the bar and were both practically sober. They had allowed you, JJ, and Garcia to drink despite their apprehensions, and likely remained sober to ensure you were safe. Derek had managed to leave the bar with his pint of beer, still clutching the empty glass.

You yawn slightly, swaying on your heels as you turn to the team. Furrowing your brows as you lean back against Spencer who stumbles slightly in surprise.

Your mind is foggy, but not foggy enough to ignore the impending hangover that would undoubtedly kick your ass the next morning.

“I should go home now.” You finally feel the fogginess settling in your brain, like a sickly-sweet haze. But alas, you were running out of energy. You missed Hotch’s stern look.

“You’re staying at the hotel with one of us, we can’t let you go home alone.” You roll your eyes slightly at the solemn male.

“No thanks dad! I’m excellent at navigating my way home.” You chuckle, at your own joke, JJ and Garcia joining in a drunken chorus.

“Y/N, you’re drunk, and it’s dangerous out here.” Spencer chimes, in. His arms are still holding tightly on your shoulders as you drunkenly giggle. Your forehead rests on his shoulder as you teeter on your heels.

“Fine.” You take the arm that Spencer offers you, watching as Hotch and Morgan do the same for JJ and Garcia, Rossi walking closely behind you. You were by far the most drunk, and the most likely to faceplant against concrete.

“Who wants her? Because I really don’t mind.” Derek points his finger, raising his eyebrows at Y/N as she sits on the floor of the hotel corridor. Her fingers trace the patterns on the carpet, as she hums along to a non-existent song.

The team let out a collective sigh at Derek’s implication.

The world is fairly fuzzy to Y/N, and she has resorted to paying absolutely no attention to what was going on around her, hyper-focusing on anything that would appeal to her senses. She knew that she would regret drinking in the morning.

“Fine! Personally, I feel as if Spencer should do it.” Derek nudges the lanky genius, who simply rolls his eyes, his cheeks dusting a light shade of pink.

“That’s a point, two of us have two beds in our rooms. That’s Spencer and Derek.” Rossi quips, turning to face the two men who now stood, eyes widened.

“For Y/N’s sake, I think we veer away from Morgan as a candidate.” Hotch says, a slight smile on his face as JJ and Garcia burst into a fit of giggles, leaning against one another.

“You’re up Spence-“ JJ smiles, as Hotch and Derek reach out for both her and Garcia, ushering then towards their respective rooms. Spencer watches as Rossi, offers him a humorous salute before he turns, walking down the corridor.

“Okay, Y/N.” Spencer tries to keep his voice down, so he doesn’t disturb other patrons of the hotel. He helps Y/N to her feet, cautiously gripping onto her as she sways into his chest.

“How are you so smart?” She practically whispers as Spencer guides her towards his room, scanning the key card.

“I’m not sure, perhaps it was good genetics?” Spencer quips, pushing her through the hotel room door, watching as she gasps, making a beeline for the empty bed. He can’t help but chuckle as she dramatically flops onto the bed, splaying her arms out wide across the plush surface.

“You know, twin studies of adults have found a heritability of IQ between 57% and 73%, with the most recent studies showing heritability for IQ as high as 80%.” Her words are slurred, but her facts are correct which makes Spencer smile.

“Did you have smart parents?” She props her body up on her elbows, connecting her gaze with Spencer who digs through his suitcases, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Spencer’s head snaps up at the question as he offers her a solemn smile.

“I guess you could say that. What about you, were your parents smart?” She giggles slightly resting her back on the bed as Spencer walks towards her, fiddling with the straps of her heels in an attempt to undo them.

“My dad is really intelligent academically, and my mother was amazing at the arts and music. I got a combination of both I guess.” Y/N smiles to herself, allowing Spencer to take her uncomfortable shoes off, her mind distracted by the thoughts of her parents.

“You know, I never really considered myself smart.” She practically whispers, sitting back up as Spencer removes her first shoe, she reaches forwards, helping him remove her second.

“Why not? You’re a doctor.” She shrugs laughing lightly at Spencer’s straightforwardness.

“I never found school academically difficult in hindsight. I struggled to understand that it wasn’t the work that was difficult, it was all the social-emotional stuff. At that point, to me, school was just difficult.” Spencer nods, offering her a reassuring smile as he passes Y/N a pile of clothes.

“You can have these, or if you’d rather sleep in the dress, it’s up to you.” Y/N smiles, grabbing the sweatpants and shuffling them on underneath her dress, Spencer had turned away and was now fiddling with an Ice bucket.

“Y/N, I’m going to go get ice, I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” She nods, watching him walk out the door as Y/N unzips the dress fully, pulling Spencer’s clothes over herself as best she could in her sluggish state.

The sweatshirt was massive on her, the sleeves covered her hands, but the sweatpants were a different story. Spencer was practically a whole foot taller than she was and that left the bottom of the trousers to bunch up around her ankles.

She quickly rolled the cuffs of the sweatpants up to a reasonable length, before collapsing back onto the surface of the bed. Inhaling the scent of his clothes she groaned, the alcohol was surely leaving her system, but left in its wake, a pounding headache.

So much so that she didn’t notice the sound of the door opening.

“Ah yes, is the hangover setting in?” Y/N whimpers slightly at the unnecessary noise, rolling over in the bed, onto her stomach. Smashing her head against the pillow.

She feels a meek tap on her shoulder, and turns to see Spencer kneeling beside the bed, his hand outstretched, two pills in his palm.

“Take these, so you don’t wake up in the middle of the night.” Y/N groans, rolling back over in the bed, sitting upright. Spencer’s hand steadies her shoulder as she gratefully takes the pills with a glass of water she had clearly placed on the bedside table.

“Okay, good. Now, get some rest.” Spencer pulls up the sheets allowing her to climb under them. Y/N’s eyes stay closed as she listens to Spencer shuffling around the room and entering the bathroom before the room goes silent. And with the silence she slips into sleep.

You walk the short distance from the hotel foyer to the entrance of the Underground station. JJ and Garcia trail behind you whist Spencer, ever eager, walks by your side. Spencer is bright and awake, as his gaze takes in what seems to be every little detail of the street, meanwhile you are simply glad you took painkillers.

You were also down a few team members. Turns out that Derek had managed to get a girl’s number from the bar, leaving him unavailable. Meanwhile, Hotch and Rossi preferred a ‘quiet morning.’ You would meet up with them later.

“Wait, this is Aldgate Station?!” Your gaze trails along the bright red lettering marking the entrance of the station. Spencer, JJ, and Garcia laugh at your dramatic halt. Quickly you do a one-eighty, turning and walking away from the station entrance, realising that you had an interesting place in mind.

“Did you know that over 1,000 bodies lie beneath this station, which is built over a plague pit from 1665.” You can’t help but laugh at Spencer’s fact as you turn to face him, walking backwards and trusting the oncoming pedestrian traffic to dodge you.

“Interesting, but the place I have in mind for you may be the sight of even more horror, beginning with the fact that we are walking.” Your gaze fixates on Jennifer who sighs dramatically, but Garcia simply hums, shrugging her shoulders.

You can tell that JJ is hung over, a pair of dark sunglasses are sat on the bridge of her nose, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She seems content however, the pain likely avoided with a healthy dose of paracetamol.

Garcia, on the other hand is awake and bubbly as ever. She also dons her sunglasses, but you wouldn’t know she was hungover. Her flamboyant outfit radiates a happy energy, that seemingly rubs off on you.

The sound of traffic fills your ears as you bustle past various other pedestrians trying to go about their regular lives. Slowly but surely, you guide the team down streets, alleyways, and pedestrian walkways that you begin to recognise.

“You know, sometimes I shock myself with my ability to navigate this city.” You smile to yourself as you see a familiar structure off in the distance.

“There’s nothing of significance here Y/N.” You can’t help but furrow your brow at Spencer’s quip, he was wrong.

“Spencer, how many times in your life have you been wrong?” You watch as Spencer’s cheeks turn pink, him shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, I suggest you add one more to your tally, because if you are patient, you will see that there is in fact something significant in the distance.” This causes Garcia and JJ to laugh. He follows your instructions, and you watch as his eyes widen, before turning back to you, a grin crossing his previously embarrassed features.

“Oh my god! It’s a castle in a city. Is that where the Queen lives?” Garcia’s voice interrupts the comfortable silence. Her voice is high pitched, laced with a sense of extreme excitement.

“Originally, it was built by William the Conqueror to be a residence for the royal family, and a fortress. But they soon discovered that it was as good at keeping people in as it was out.” Spencer’s hands flail about wildly and you can’t help but smile at the excitement plastered across his face, your hangover was long forgotten.

“Officially it’s called Her Majesty’s Royal Palace and Fortress, The Tower of London.” Spencer finds himself impressed, as you smile brightly, eyes fixated on the tower that was coming closer into view.

You walk along the perimeter of the grounds, towards the visitor centre watching as your three tourists gaze in wonder across the lawn towards the large medieval building.

“Only 22 executions have ever taken place inside the Tower of London. They include the two famed executions of Henry VIII’s wives, Anne Boleyn, and Katherine Howard.” You guide the team towards the visitor centre, watching as all the crowds ahead of you gather.

You walk towards the turnstiles that provide entry to the castle, spotting a beefeater watching over the people entering into the tower grounds.

You slowly walk towards the male, pulling a slip of paper out of your pocket. As you hand him the paper to read, he simply nods, allowing JJ, Spencer, Garcia, and yourself through, politely thanking you all for your service.

“-For our service?” Garcia pipes up as you walk towards the tower gateway, a look of confusion plastered across her joyful features.

“Yeah, uhm, I spoke to a few people.” You state simply, not really wanting to draw out what may create too much of a scene. Garcia certainly struck you as the dramatic type.

“What kind of people?” JJ pulls a strand of hair behind her ear, peering over her sunglasses at you. You can feel Spencer and Garcia’s eyes boring into you with curiosity.

“Well, The Tower of London is owned by Her Majesty the Queen, so-“ Your gaze falls on Spencer who’s face twists into an almost smug look as his brain begins to put the pieces together.

“You asked-“ He begins.

“No, no- well, I mean… She offered?” You chuckle, trying to hide your flustered sate as a look of shock crossed Garcia’s face.

“The-the Queen?!” You can’t help but laugh at her reaction. Both Spencer and JJ join her, eyes widened with shock.

Before you have a moment to think, Garcia walks straight towards you, engulfing you in a surprising hug. You can’t help but tense in surprise.

“The Queen knows we exist?!” She whispers into your ear, allowing Spencer to pry her off you. You simply nod, humming in response.

Slowly, you begin to make your way around the walls of the ancient fortress. From the tower above Traitor’s Gate, you had an excellent view across the Thames, of Bloody Tower, and the impressive White Tower behind you, housing the notorious Crown Jewels.

“I always found this part of the castle to be so weird.” You can’t tell if you are talking to yourself or the rest of the team, but Spencer makes his way towards you, his gaze curiously set on you.

You turn towards him, watching as Garcia and JJ excitedly stand on the other side of the wall, inspecting the expansive gardens where twenty-two whole lives had been taken.

“How so?” Spencer says quietly as you fix your gaze back on him.

“So many doomed people made their final journey by boat beneath our feet. They wouldn’t even had known at that point if they were sentenced to death or not.” You sigh, turning your gaze to the ground staring at your feet.

“You know, they had a way of communicating their fate right in front of them without even knowing.” Spencer nods, urging you to continue.

“The jailor would be abord the boat to transport them through the gate and he would carry an axe. If the axe was facing forwards, they were lucky, and if the axe was facing backwards… well-“ You watch Spencer’s brows pinch together as he nods in understanding.

“…People spent the worst days of their lives here.” Spencer murmured as you simply nodded, allowing your gaze to trail onto JJ and Garcia who were taking photos.

“-And the best.” You smile, nodding towards JJ and Garcia as Spencer hums in agreement, a small smile on his face.

“Are those men actually called beefeaters?” You smile at Garcia’s question, turning to Spencer as he interrupts.

“From what I gather, it’s a sort of slang name for what are officially Yeoman Warders of the tower.” Garcia nods as Spencer offers a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh, we should do one of their tours!” JJ exclaims, pointing at a group crowding around for a tour due to start in just under 5 minutes.

“If you want- but those guys will slam you if they find out your American.” You smile, dragging the three agents towards the crowd, as confused looks crossed their face.

And boy, were you right.

The harsh, night air nipped at your skin, goosebumps crawling across your exposed skin, your dress from the previous night turned out to be a rather weather-inappropriate outfit. After The Tower of London, the heavens opened in a torrential downpour that caused our small group to sprint to a local bookstore café, where the missing team members caught up with you for lunch.

You spent around three hours in the quaint café, both you and Spencer eyeing up the large bookshelves lined with various graphic covers as the rest of the team talked. They truly were a nice group, and you were glad you had the opportunity to work with them. But it hurt to think that you may never see them again.

But alas, they tided you over by regaling tales of sadistic killers, and various – and frankly, hilarious – anecdotes from their time together. You could tell they truly were a family, especially since they didn’t fail to mention the fact their job is so demanding that they practically live in the FBI Academy together.

“You know, law enforcement was always a job that interested me. I just wish that I could see a case through, you know; studying the bodies is fairly detached.” You chuckled, placing your glass to your lips, and taking a sip.

“You want to chase Unsubs?” Derek turned to you, a smile on his face.

“I guess so, I always enjoyed travelling for specialty help, I was a bit more involved in solving cases then. I just feel so helpless once all evidence is processed, I must wait and hope that the police can work it out themselves.” You smile, reaching your arm out to fiddle with the napkin in front of you.

“Y/N?” The sound of a voice pulls you out of your dissociative reverie, pulling you back into the here and now, where the team all gathered in front of you.

“Thank you for everything Y/N.” You smile at Rossi, gasping as Garcia pulls you into another surprise hug. The end of her blonde hair tickles your nose as you let out a small chuckle.

“I will miss you Garcia- I will miss all of you.” You whisper as Garcia pulls back and you acquaint your gaze with the hardened concrete below your feet. Trying to hide the embarrassment you felt for becoming so attached to the people in front of you in such a short time.

“You don’t fancy a trip to America, do you?” Derek chuckles, nudging your side with his elbow, you lift your hands to cover your mouth as you laugh. Your gaze fixating on Derek as he offers you a wide grin.

“I could do with a holiday-“ You smile shaking your head.

“-but I’m not so sure my boss would like it.” You watch as the team chuckle to themselves, their gazes flicking between each other as they slowly realised, they would be leaving very soon.

Hotch stands, deep in thought as the team gather together, Y/N included, on the runway. He couldn’t help but notice how well Y/N functioned with the team, and how quickly they were able to solve an extremely complicated case with her expertise.

A notification snaps him out of his daze, gazing down at his phone he sees a reminder popping up, telling him that the jet leaves in 15 minutes and that they should all be ready to board.

“Guys-“ He breaks the giggles and chatter between his teammates, watching Y/N’s expression falter at the implication of his words. He knew she had bonded well with the team in the short space of time, and he knew that the team would miss her also.

“-you should say your goodbyes, we have to be on the jet in five for take-off in fifteen. I’ll be back in a minute.” Hotch disappears onto the jet as Garcia sucks in a breath, her eyes saddening as they land on Y/N. A soft smile rests on her face.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you all. I had heard so much about you guys-“ Y/N chuckles, her cheeks heating up as she turns her gaze to the ground scuffing her feet on the concrete.

“-you certainly -uhm- lived up to those expectations ten-fold. This wouldn’t have been solved without you guys.” Y/N’s gaze scans over the group, lingering on Spencer, who gives her a soft smile, his cheeks reddening.

Rossi was the first to step forward, offering Y/N a silent pat on her shoulder, before walking towards the jet, and disappearing inside.

JJ and Garcia stood forward together, opening out their arms as they engulfed Y/N in a group hug. The whispers of thanks making the other members of the team smile at the sight. But soon they disappeared into the comfort of the jet.

“Stay safe, okay?” Was the simple sentiment Morgan left Y/N with his gaze switching between her and Spencer suggestively, an expression they both missed.

Finally, Spencer steps forward his eyes stuck on the ground as he fails to meet Y/N’s gaze.

The pair both remain silent, gazes alternating between each other and the ground as they both relish in the awkwardness of not knowing what to say.

“I enjoyed having someone smart to relate to.” He practically whispers as Y/N let’s out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Don’t be mean to your teammates, you’re a bright bunch.” The quip makes Spencer laugh shyly, as he raises his gaze to Y/N who stands in front of him.

“You’re a brilliant mind.” Spencer’s voice is practically a whisper as he takes a small step forward, outstretching his hand to Y/N. She gladly takes it and shakes it with a chuckle.

“Hey Reid, I thought you said it was safer to kiss?!” The pair jump at the sound of a voice coming from the small jet. Turning they see Derek stood at the top of the steps, a smug grin on his face.

Hotch walks past him, making his way towards the now extremely embarrassed, frozen pair of doctors. Spencer quickly offers Y/N a small smile before dropping your hand.

Y/N turns her focus to Hotch. He stops in front of her.

“Dr. L/N, we’re running late, but I just wanted to let you know that I will be in touch over the next couple of weeks, as regards the case.” Y/N nods, immediately going into business mode, she straightens up.

“That’s absolutely no problem, I will forward you any of the paperwork on our end for reference.”

“That would be great. Excellent work doctor. As I said, I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, they were gone.

Story Masterlist - (1) -

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 2 days

Note

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #fanfic #cringe

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lala-blahblah · 2 days

Text

I absolutely cannot sit down and write a nice version of this bc my brain says no, but i would like to let you all know I'm thinking of a fanfic where older Edgeworth is moving back to the US (or japan, whichever universe you subscribe to) and runs into Nick in the store while buying mass produced art to hang on the walls of his new house.

And Nick is like "dear god do you want your house to look like a dentist's office. Please do better" (in a friendly way, they are too old for rivalry at this point) and so Nick invites Edgeworth to come over and take any of his old artwork from college, since it is just sitting in a portfolio in a closet somewhere. And Edgeworth agrees to come over and look through Nick's old stuff together. There are themes of 1) growing older and like reflecting on the past and 2) Nick's character trait of finding meaning in challenges vs Edgeworth's tendency to stick with what he does well. In my head I imagine that Nick was good at art and it came somewhat easily to him and that bored him, and he was drawn to law in part because it was hard and it excited him and made him want to try harder. And i think tying that in with fatherhood, like it being unexpected and hard but something he thrives at because he feels good when there's a challenge. Potentially also touching on how like, when he lost his badge he felt very listless and depressed because he wasn't being challenged anymore, there wasn't anything to drive him and motivate him. And I think Edgeworth would be impressed by seeing Nick's old pieces (I assume he hasn't seen much of his art before) and wondering why he didn't choose to pursue art further. He also thinks about how art had always put him off personally because he couldn't get it "right" right away, and on the other hand how the structure and logic of law came easily to him, which led him to become a lawyer. I think he measures his self worth by his success in his field because he never had the support to believe he had intrinsic value as a person and maybe wasn't so good at making emotional connections with people. So that big contrast between them is so interesting... I think Edgeworth would be jealous of Nick's bravery in pursuing something he was bad at without giving up and Nick would be jealous of Edgeworth's success in law, but in a subdued way as they've grown older.

A far as actual scenes in the fic, I think I would use Nick's art as a conduit for my own agenda to have them talk about topics that are of interest to me... I would like Edgeworth to feel out of his depth for once and for nick to be the confident one as he talks about something he is well versed in, and for edgeworth to have to face that discomfort and also be a little impressed intellectually with Nick. I think I would do that by having them look through some abstract art Nick did (my intro painting classes were all abstract so we could focus on color mixing and getting comfortable with the medium). Edgeworth compliments Nick on a painting with a bunch of colored squares in gradient clusters and then gets embarrassed when Nick tells him those were just color mixing swatches. Alternatively, in my mind they are both asexual and I think even though this feels like a hallmark cliche I would have Edgeworth flounder and be very embarrassed over Nick's old figure drawing piece. I feel like Nick would be like "no you don't understand it's all very professional and normal when we draw them, like it's just about learning the shape language" and Edgeworth would be like "this is very improper and I don't know how to react can we please not look at naked people!". I don't think i would do both, but something to upset the power dynamic for a moment would be interesting! Nick is always the awkward one I want to see him shine for just a moment enough for edgeworth to go "wait what... i've known him for so long but perhaps i don't really know him at all..."

I would want Edgeworth to end up taking a series of 3 canvases Nick did in an oil painting class that were still lifes of objects the teacher had set up around the classroom. I headcanon that Nick actually far preferred drawing people to objects and rebelled against the assignment by hiding his reflection in one of the objects in each drawing- the top of his head is hidden in an ornament on a christmas tree, his eye is reflected in the shine of a china vase, etc. So it's a little secret, and Edgeworth kind of likes that... it is sweet in a way to see a much younger Phoenix captured in time like that. Something Edgeworth will be reminded of when he sees the paintings but nobody else will catch onto

I would want to layer this with a fatherhood storyline... I think i would frame it as nick inviting edgeworth over to dinner with him and Trucy and Edgeworth stepping into this domestic family life as a visitor and witnessing how its transformed Nick, like seeing him from a different lens. I think after they pick out paintings and have dinner they sit around talking. Trucy had been sitting with them, earlier she showed off some magic tricks and gave Edgeworth a picture of hers from the fridge to add to his new art collection (it's a rainbow dolphin and a sea turtle wearing top hats. Nick says she's in her Lisa Frank era). But she's been quiet for awhile and Nick realizes she's fallen asleep and it's like 11. He's like, crap, i screwed up i should've paid attention and gotten her put to bed, I'm a bad father and I have an audience for this failure. And on top of that, I already failed at being a lawyer, no matter what I try I always disappoint everyone. It's an unexpected moment of vulnerability there... like he's seemed so put together and grown up to Edgeworth this whole time like a whole different person, but he's not a different person he just has different sides to him. And this moment is one where edgeworth can be like hey, no, you're a great dad, and I'm impressed by you and everything you achieved. And I think that could lead into vulnerability from Edgeworth about his relationship with his dad and how he misses him/how he feels like he hasn't really been loved by anyone since his dad died, and how Trucy is lucky to have someone like Nick in her life.

Nick excuses himself to carry Trucy to bed and Miles starts cleaning up the kitchen. I would give a moments pause here to talk about the strange intimacy of going through someone else's kitchen cabinets and drawers, you feel like a stranger there trying to put yourself into someone else's shoes to understand how they live in this space. Maybe he guesses the right drawer for the silverware first try and he feels a little spark of connection. like "we are different in many ways but we are alike enough that we look in the same place for our spoons". Details on the kitchen too about the kid safe plastic bowls and knives that indicate a child is part of the household, that the household has been built around the child, in fact. Edgeworth lives alone and I imagine things are kind of fancy for him (he's a man who wears a cravat so he probably has fine china right). It's completely different from this shabby mismatched cutlery that Nick has, but this kitchen has personality. Maybe he wouldn't mind having a kitchen like this so much. This is a hint at him being lonely, being included in this family unit just for a day has given him this curious sense of longing, for what he isn't sure... does he want kids? Does he want Nick? Does he just want to be part of a family? These are confusing questions and he would much rather not feel anything at all, but unfortunately it is late and he did have a glass of wine with dinner so emotions are Happening.

He hears Nick sigh tiredly as he comes into the kitchen, and Edgeworth starts to ask him where his tupperware is when suddenly Nick is wrapping his arms around him and Edgeworth is Very Tense because he's never good at knowing how to act in situations like this and he and Nick have never been on a hugging level before and he's not sure what this is even for. Then Nick is like "I keep thinking about what you said earlier, about feeling alone ever since your dad passed away. I didn't know, that's such a long time to feel alone. I don't want you to think you're on your own". Edgeworth relaxes a little bit because now he knows what the hug is for and what he's supposed to feel from it. Its very kind of Nick to worry but its unnecessary and he says so. He has colleagues he's friendly with and people from law school he keeps in touch with, he's alright. And Nick says he knows but he also knows it's difficult living the way they do, and what he means is single and in your thirties. Because everyone else is getting married or living with a long term partner or at the very least dating and their lives are focused on that relationship as the center of their being. And when you don't have that, not only is it harder to relate to the people around you but it is harder to feel like you matter in people's lives, because they all prioritize their partner before their friends. And maybe their situations aren't exactly the same (Nick has a daughter while Edgeworth lives alone) and maybe their choices were made for different reasons (Nick used to date and didn't mind it but didn't see a need to prioritize it. Edgeworth found himself unable to distinguish with certainty whether or not he was actually romantically interested in people, and rather than make the wrong choice he decided he would rule out error by choosing no one at all). But regardless, they both know first hand the isolation that comes with trying to carve a path for themselves that does not include a life partner in a world where everyone else comes in pairs. And Nick is reaching out across that emptiness saying hey, we might both be building different lives, but there's room for you to be a part of mine if you want.

Outloud, Nick says "Really, Miles. You aren't alone in this." and Edgeworth says "Well, Phoenix, neither are you". And he stands there and lets his friend hug him, and it doesn't feel like butterflies but it does feel solid and warm and good. And he doesn't even worry about whether he's supposed to let go by now or not, because it's nice, not being alone.

They stand there in comfortable silence for a long moment before Nick speaks again. "hey, remember when you used to hate me? And look at us now." Edgeworth turns his head sharply. "I never HATED you, Wright. I simply thought you were foolish and a waste of my time." He realizes a little too late that this is probably a rude thing to say to the person that just gave you a pep talk, but Nick just laughs, his head still resting on Edgeworth's shoulder. Looking at him from this angle, face almost fully hidden, Nick could be any age at all. It's easy to imagine for a moment that he's the same nervous version of himself that stood across from him in the courtroom for the first time all those years ago. The only thing breaking the illusion is the subtle streaks of silver that cross his temples. Not entirely sure why he does it, Edgeworth kisses the top of Nick's head. He feels odd about it the moment he does so, realizing it comes across not as a platonic or romantic action but as a gesture suited for a dog or pet of some kind. Nick looks up, looking confused but not displeased. "What was that for?" "It was a thank you I suppose". Miles steps away now, still uncomfortable with perceived failures even if those failures are just in social interactions, and begins to gather his things while Nick gets down a tupperware from a cabinet. "Thank you, for the dinner and for the paintings." Edgeworth continues. "I'd like to repay the favor once I get settled into the new house. Trucy's invited too, of course". As he says it, he realizes he genuinely is looking forward to seeing them again. Nick walks him to the apartment door and they say their goodbyes while Edgeworth tucks the paintings (and Trucy's dolphin drawing) under his arm.

He gets halfway down the hallway when he hears Nick calling after him. "Hey! Miles! Take an art class with me sometime" Newfound friendship or not, Edgeworth just looks at him in disdain. "what, so you can show off your superior art skills? No thank you, Wright" "No, for fun. You can make things of your own to hang on your walls. We can do something I've never done before so we're evenly matched. Like printmaking? Origami? Um, pottery?" Edgeworth bristles at the suggestions but takes a moment to acknowledge why he's feeling that way; again, it's that fear of failure. But he's enjoyed himself today and deep down he thinks it could be fun to try something new, not with the goal of being perfect at it but with the goal of spending time together. Nick surprised him today. Maybe he can surprise himself. "... I would consider pottery" Edgeworth admits. And Nick looks really happy about it. "Great. I'll book us a session then. It'll be fun, you'll see. Edgeworth shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. "Have a good night, Phoenix" "You too. Get home safe Miles".

Edgeworth gets home a little before midnight and props the three canvases against the moving boxes still stacked up in the foyer. Tomorrow, he'll figure out where he wants to hang them. Right now though, he walks over to the bare fridge and carefully pins up Tracy's dolphin drawing. There's a lot more work to do, but it's already starting to feel like home.

#are they in love? are they just pals? Queerplatonic? Babe i couldn't tell you but interpret it how you like xoxo #I have to call Miles “Edgeworth” because it feels like I'm overstepping to call him Miles #we aren't on a first name basis... we're professional colleagues at best #also if there are any canon breaking things i mentioned: I haven't played any of the apollo games i'm faking it so hard rn sorry <3 #anywayyyy #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #ace attorney fanfiction #wrightworth #narumitsu #also i do read miles edgeworth as neurodivergent bc Ummmm have you Seen him?#his inner child is a gifted kid that was socially awkward and pretended to be superior to everyone to cover up his feelings of inadequacy

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thegamingcatmom · 2 days

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MORE SPOOKY BABY:

If Donna Beneviento were to take an interest in you, whether that be platonic or romantic, that would include:

(This will get rather dark and twisted cause that´s how I see her. Don´t like, don´t read. 🖤)

tea parties with her and her "friends"

helping her with her doll making

which means handing her tools and body parts

until she encourages you to try it yourself

(more like teasing you if she speaks through Angie, like "Come onnnn, or are you scaaaared?? Huuuh?? WHO´S A CHICKEN?? BAWK BAWK, HAHAHA!"

...she can be quite the meanie sometimes

not that she realizes

or cares

will drug you if you misbehave or try to escape

which means she´ll taunt you with nightmarish versions of your loved ones, chasing you around the house until you break down or pass out from fear

she´ll be there to comfort you after, ofc

she´s so very good at it

cooing at you and holding you close

shushing you like one would a child after a nightmare (I mean...)

"Shhh...calm, amore mio. They won´t get you...I won´t let them..."

it´s one of those rare times she doesn´t speak through Angie

her real voice is beautiful

so soothing and warm

a stark contrast to her crazed counterpart

it makes you forget what lurks beneath for a while

until you do something stupid and she has to remind you

her hallucinations don´t have to be scary though

she can conjure up your worst nightmares, but also your biggest hopes and dreams

she mostly uses them as a reward when you´ve been good

most times, those visions include your family

your real family

or the pet you´ve always wanted but were never allowed to have

she makes you help her in the garden

she doesn´t worry about you escaping

where would you run off to, anyway? down the waterfall?

besides, you know what happens if you do try to escape

(like that´ll stop you, idiot)

won´t take you to the meetings cause that´s way too risky

if something were to happen to you, she couldn’t promise to stay in control

she can get rather...possessive

you´re hers

I think I might have become a smidge obsessed with Spooky Baby.

...Just a smidge. 🤏

#donna beneviento #angie beneviento #spooky baby #resident evil village #re village #resident evil 8 #re 8

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scoobydoodean · 10 hours

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(abuse mention) let it bleed is an interesting episode but the bit where dean smacks ben always makes me so confused bc it feels like gamble dropped that in and then didnt. fucking address it. like i dont know if its fair to call it abuse bc dean was in a Very high stress situation and trying to get his attention, but it feels SO out of left field for dean and it feels like it was just there for shock value or there without much thought to what it means for dean and implies about his upbringing.

Ngl this doesn't bother me. Lisa was bleeding out, Sam was not answering the phone (because he was knocked out and locked in a room), and the whole building was warded against angels. Dean had to carry Lisa out because Ben wasn't big enough, and there were still demons in the building ready to kill them. So when Ben shut down at the crucial moment, Dean did... what he had to do in that situation. Slapping anyone is generally not advisable, and it isn't a pleasant thing to do to anybody under any circumstances, but the entire situation isn't pleasant or normal and normal circumstances cannot and do not pertain to it. The entire experience is traumatic and something no one should ever have to experience, but especially not a child. I also wouldn't call it abuse. Abuse is about consolidating power, while this moment is about being placed in a life threatening situation by a third party who wishes to do all of you harm. You have no options other than to move immediately or you are all going to die.

That said, I do also think this moment and Dean having to put a gun in Ben's hand after swearing Ben would never shoot one (6.02) contributes massively to Dean asking Cas to erase him from Lisa and Ben's lives (coupled with the lies from the demon who possessed Lisa about wishing she'd never met Dean). Dean didn't want Ben to have to live with a traumatic memory like this above all else. These kinds of experiences are things Dean believes change a person irreparably based on his own experiences. I'm sure he was also terrified that losing Lisa would send Ben down the hunter's path, and it made Dean so sick he couldn't stomach it. I don't think you're wrong to suggest maybe there's an intended nod to Dean's own upbringing here (nod @ 6.02), but the crucial difference (that Dean himself likely fails to see) is that Dean is not actually the one who put Lisa and Ben in this situation. He blames himself for it, but the person who put them in this situation was Crowley. No ifs, no ands, no buts. Dean was so scared something like this would happen that he left Lisa and Ben pretty early into the season and he and Lisa broke up. They were no longer associated. Dean expecting himself to have forseen all of this assigns a level of responsibility and clairvoyance that is completely unreasonable. In contrast, John put his children in situations like this of his own free will. No one forced him to do it. He chose to make them hunters. He chose to put guns in their hands and teach them to fight monsters. He chose to put their lives at risk from the time they were very young.

#mail #ben #lisa #6.21 #season 6 #pk rewatches spn number ?#i dont deserve what he put on me #dean and guilt #deanlisa

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 3 days

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Hihi slug, I love your work, and thanks for everything!! Since Matenro season is nearly upon us, I was wondering if we could get your opinion on the solo snippets🤞🤞

Matenro's new solo previews are SO GOOD, what do you think of them?

Thank you both for notifying me about them! Taking a look now...

(The album is probably already out now, but... better late than never...)

Jakurai's A Majestic Figure

Title note: 4-kanji compounds are like the SAT vocab words of Japanese; they're not super common in everyday speech and can evoke a literary or sophisticated feeling. This one is...interesting. To the best of my knowledge, it isn't a standard compound (I'm also not getting any hits when I Google it) and I wonder if that's significant. It's just two words strung together to make the appearance of fanciness, perhaps. I couldn't say for certain. At any rate, both 威風 and (especially) 颯爽 describe a majestic, often captivating appearance. This isn't to say that such qualities of dignity or majesty aren't real, but I definitely feel like both terms are defining a subject from an outside perspective. These aren't terms I would ever expect someone to describe themselves with, which makes the song title sound like it's an outside observer commenting on Jakurai instead of Jakurai talking about himself. We see this happen a lot in Hypmic, with people putting Jakurai on pedestals or Jakurai struggling to see himself as the same grand figure others perceive him as. As a result, I wrote the song title as "A Majestic Figure" to emphasize the appearance of majesty, whereas the character of the figure is unknown. Anyway, let's dive in and see what this is all about.

(10 seconds in) Vibing with these instrumentals

(19 seconds in) Not vibing with these "ah"s... but we can't have everything in life

(43 seconds in) I'm a little too tired to fully keep up (I'll look up the lyrics when I'm done) but I REALLY like the urgency in the delivery, which is so at odds with the flowing, dignified background music. In JPN fiction as a whole, flusteredness/desperation is contrasted with calmness as a synonym for imperfection and perfection. Jakurai is, honestly, really kind of a desperate character...yet one that appears outwardly calm/perfect to most of the rest of the cast, so it's interesting that we get to see his desperate nature on full display right at the start of the song.

(1:26 in) Hand motif mentioned *Cinemasins ding* (of

(End) Thank you uta-net for having the lyrics up already; ily. Let's see now... Interesting. I'll have to read them again in more depth later, but it looks like a call to forgive past wounds and seek out a better, less painful way of existence--in a societal sense, a religious (as in like, ascending or becoming enlightened) sense, and a personal sense. All great things to see Jakurai expressing. Again, it's interesting to see Jakurai expressing this with such urgency, even if these are things we know he really, really cares about. That coupled with the background music seems to match a bit in the lyrics that says "And [to end war within society, paraphrased] I take grand, dignified action mixed with the discord and noise of Shinjuku, a samsara spiral of cacophonous echoes." Mixing the stately and the chaotic, the "imperfect" and the "perfect." Really interesting stuff!

Hifumi's The Beginning of the Last Song

Title note: "Last Song" is English and written in katakana, which is a sharp contrast to the style of Jakurai's title. Creates a much younger and casual feel appropriate for Hifumi. Not much else to say here, so let's jump in.

(10 seconds in) Modern indie pop song on the radio feel. I'm not a fan of autotune in general so I'm not in love with this, but I'm hopeful it'll pick up soon.

(22 seconds in) I listen to so much "soft hiphop" (for lack of a better term) during work that my brain instantly catapulted itself into work mode and stopped paying any attention to the words. Coffee mug? Check. Emails? Check. Anxiety? Check. Let me rewind and listen to this properly.

(32 seconds in but for real this time) So far, very Hifumi. Opening verse has some fun figurative language but essentially says Hifumi's suit is pure courage he dons like a suit of armor. In doing so, it masks him and makes him become like a whole other person. From there, he switches to addressing a listener: "I want to soothe your mental wounds. I want to change your frown into a smile. I won't let go of your hands, and no, I'm not doing this for a reward." It's something that Hifumi should be saying to himself (something Hifumi wants to hear, maybe?) and yet he says "To [Host!]me, this is happiness."

(59 seconds in) Hmm... I was going to say this song feels sad to me, because all these positive messages of "Keep going! You're safe now!" are framed as being directed at other people, and I was like..."Hifumi, who's going to say that to you? Who's going to help you feel that way?" but then the line "You made me realize I'm not alone" radically flips the framing so that it DOES become things Hifumi is saying to himself, too. How nice. :) I would not want to translate this, personally... Haha it's using the vagueness of Japanese grammar and lyrical conventions to great effect, but I don't feel comfortable touching that personally.

(1:02) Hell yeah, belt that shit, homie

(1:32) So it's a last song in the sense that it's a farewell or the final song of his old self. Now he's the new, healing Hifumi. We love to see it 10/10 bravo. The song is also a happy, heartfelt thank you to the unspoken listeners (presumably Matenrou) who helped him feel less alone. That's cute! I like it. I probably shouldn't go here, but I find it intriguing how the vagueness of listeners is utilized. The first time the listeners are addressed, the language is...if not borderline romantic, pathos-filled to the point where it's definitely evocative of his host job (hence why he's not seeking compensation for handholding, an often romantic gesture). Yet it's borderline enough that it wouldn't be inappropriate to imagine it being addressed to Matenrou instead of his patrons. Hahaha. Again, another reason I don't want to go near this one.

(Overall) I like it! A nice ballad for Hifumi.

Doppo's Andante

(5 seconds in) For a song called Andante, this has a faster tempo than at least one other song on this album lol. But it's much less frenetic than Doppo's other solos, so there's that, I guess.

(7 seconds in) This delivery is giving me anime ending made by a 2010s rock band vibes lol.

(14 seconds in) Damn there's a baller line here that I'm stumped on how to convey in Eng in a way that's both baller and sensical. Meaning wise, it's like "I want to take back the things I shouldn't have said and give them as a present to you" and in figurative language it's like "Once, I used to fire words into the air [speak things in anger or carelessly]. Now, I want to gather them up [esp. like a bouquet of flowers] after their flight and use them to decorate you [again, like flowers or like a piece of jewelry--it's a positive connotation]" Pop off, Doppo

(40 seconds in) Oh this is killer and also going to need some major explaining. Doppo's name is literally "he who walks alone" which is usually considered a positive thing--someone who "walks the path of life" alone would have gotten there by outstripping the rest of the pack. In Doppo's case, though, this is a negative thing. I think it's not as obvious to Eng-only fans, and I know I didn't really think about it for a long time myself, but Doppo considers himself a "loser" bc he didn't follow a conventional life path. It's considered atypical to switch employers, especially very early on in one's career, as he did when he stood up for Hifumi and got himself fired at his first job. Part of why he puts up with shitty treatment at EL Medical is because it's one of the few places that would hire someone who switched employers at such a young age. (Sidebar: My (probably flawed, as I don't live in Japan) impression is that this is becoming less and less of a thing as time goes on and the economy goes to shit, but I think it's the self-stigma more than anything else that's affecting Doppo. To me, it feel similar to the societal pressures in the US to attend and graduate from a four-year college. Plenty of people don't for all sorts of reasons, but because that's so ingrained as the default life story for Americans in a lot of communities, Doppo's dealing with the kind of disappointment and self-hatred someone who dropped out before getting a four year degree might feel.) Doppo beats himself up about that a lot, but here we get that lovely line of "In the waves of people (hitonami) passing all around me, I no longer see anyone who looks like me. It's a shame, because I always wanted to be just like everyone else (hitonami)." Outside of that beautiful wordplay on hitonami, we're also treated to the figurative language of hitonami being literally "in line with others." Doppo, a character who walks through life alone, wanted to walk through life at the same pace/reaching the same milestones at the same time as everyone else.

(1:04 in) "Life is a tightrope act; it's like walking a balance beam [lit. "average beam" aka a beam where everything is averaged/balanced]. In a country where not everything can be average (narasarenai) and where even if the things that [I] can accomplish (narasareru) don't matter [in the eyes of society], sometimes the sounds I want to make don't come out right (narasarenai). When that happens, I can call myself pitiful--or I can feel the breathing of the beautiful flowerbed that is this city, and when someone's humming under their breath disturbs that short break [lit. breath], I ask them 'So, what is this happiness thing anyway?'" I would rather die than TL this song but I'm LOVING the creativity and depth of the lyrics.

(1:27) WILD! FUCKING! CHEERING!!! "You fake smiles in a mirror to make other people happy and call it love. It's a form of hypnosis, and I've made a go of falling under its spell because I just want to be equals [on par with, balanced], and so if you and I can walk these crowded streets together, then I think I don't mind as much that I'm always walking alone." THE GROWTH! THE GROWTH!!!!

Damn, this album's lyrics go hard. What a feast.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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tempestmothstorm · 3 days

Text

ok ok so I was just going to draw long haired Sayori but then I came up with a bunch of elementaryish aged designs and now I came up with a bunch of headcanons and more sketches so woohoo lots or text under cut open for more headcanons (also idk why tumblr made the image change quality that is not the same colour or quality I had it in)

Yknow for some reason I just can’t imagine Natsuki being like a happy kid in the past like at all. I think it’s like a “kid who obviously has a bad home life and acts out because of it but nobody’s gonna to actually try to do anything about it so they just put her in detention” kinda vibe. I don’t think anyone outright hates her since she probably would have brought it up in base game/side stories, but she isn’t exactly a beloved member of the school either

In the side stories she talks about being very different in the past and specifically going through a really edgy ‘I hate everyone phase’ in middle school. This isn’t a middle school headcanon but I feel like her being kinda bitter before the total edgy phase makes sense.

I think in contrast to her having a super defined sense of self present day, Natsuki here was a lot more identityless and unsure about what she wants. She gets really into cutesy stuff in the future but here she leans a lot more into the angry side of her because she doesn’t really understand a lot of what she’s feeling. It’s why I didn’t really give her a unique hairstyle, if she had something she’d actually like I don’t think she would have changed it to the pigtails

Also her clothes are kinda bad and has a hole in her sleeve since she doesn’t really get a lot of clothes due to obligatory ~home life angst~ but this post isn’t about that so

She gets into manga pretty early but just kinda enjoys it casually on a surface level thing. She drops it for a bit before picking it back up, and suddenly understanding what plot and themes are lead to her going insane about it until present day.

She’s into skating because I said so

It also makes a great explanation for why she gets a broken arm and why she always has a bunch of bandaids :))))))))

Ok I might also just like giving character designs bandaids

Tbh I forgot if they said Natsuki’s friends met in middle school or not but I think it still applies since they probably knew her through every cringe phase she had (including the fanfics). But either way they were probably one of the few people to actually give Natsuki a chance which is part of why she puts up with their bullying so much. Throughout every phase she might have had they made fun of her every step of the way, to the point she’s just kinda used to it now. Doesn’t help that she thinks her old self was cringe, so by present day she just assumes she deserves whatever bullying she gets from them. Girl needs to have compassion for her past self. And present self tbh

While Natsuki was cringe in the ‘I hate everything’ way, Yuri was cringe in the ‘I am a massive nerd for cringe pieces of media and am going to make everyone aware of that fact’. At least that’s how they see themselves now

She’s a lot more open to talking about her interests. She can and will yap to random people with little to no prompting because she hasn’t really learned yet that people would be put off by it

She’s not overly social but more willing to chat with others with a polite and friendly attitude. She hasn’t been hurt yet so she is filled with joy and whimsy and is overall more cheerful compared to present day

She has her hair like that so I could give the vibe of ‘cheerfully annoying and/or adorable☝️🤓’ nerd archetype instead of ‘would rather become a speck of dust than talk to a person’ nerd archetype. Her hair is generally more dishevelled to show she’s more naive and less elitist I guess. She also isn’t as good at taking care of her hair yet so it looks kinda bad in a charming way(her school would not agree)

Her bangs being up with the headband shows her being more open and willing to be vulnerable to others in a way that’s lost in present day, where her long bangs hide a lot of her face in that one sprite. Her forehead is a metaphor 😭

I don’t really have parent headcanons but the cardigan is from her mom. I just think it’s cute

Random headcanons idrk where else to put but since that one act 2 sprite just borrows the teeth from Natsuki I like to think her teeth is also weirdly sharp it just doesn’t stick out as much. People think her teeth are creepy though so she tries not to smile with her teeth. She doesn’t care to smile like that anyways since she doesn’t really know how to in pictures (me projecting) and her natural smiles are a lot more subtle/don’t show teeth so it’s all fine.

Stating the obvious here but she was totally outcasted by like most of her school. Most people thought she was weird and her enthusiasm off-putting so they’d try avoiding her. She doesn’t really know why they think she’s off-putting though, people just start avoiding her for no reason. A few would go out of their way to bully her too, which ont added fuel to the iscolation fire, which ended up give her massive vulnerability and self esteem issues. Shocker ik. It takes a while to fully break her down from here to her high school self but it does mess her up a lot even then. At this specific point in time though she stills has her innocence so dw it’s fineeeeeee

Her anxiety issues are also there but she still has enough of a positive attitude to go ‘hey this sucks but maybe this time talking about my interests will work and they’ll actually like me!’ even if it didn’t work the last time. She doesn’t really know how else to talk to people so she keeps trying the same thing hoping maybe this time it’ll work out.

Uh.

things get worse. you probably know that

Sayori still the sillyyyyy

But tbh she probably changes the least compared to present day. I mean she gets more mature and less starry eyed but her mask is basically the same as her kid self. I don’t have as much to say on that specifically cause compared to the rest she doesn’t change that much

Yeah Understanding said she used to have long hair but cut it since she couldn’t really take care of it. I feel like even before the depression got worse she sucked at taking care of it because she has the self proclaimed attention span of a donut. Her hair is really scruffy and if you tried to comb it would probably hurt a lot. So she doesn’t ever

Her and mc are still the the goofy-goober and straight man dynamic they have in base game. Sayori drags mc into some shenanigans and mc tries to help her get out of trouble. He also has less of an ‘I don’t want to be seen with this cringe’ attitude he has a bit of in the base game since he isn’t as concerned with reputation because he’s like 7, so he’s more open with being directly nice to her. He acts a lot more genuinely with their friendship overall compared present day where he finds it a lot harder to earnestly share his appreciation of Sayori as a cool sigma male

A lot of their banter is light hearted, but Sayori doesn’t start interpreting his teasing for actual criticism of her character until a little later into their relationship. His jokes probably hurt more in hindsight when they do end up drifting apart because his lighthearted jokes stated feeling more real.

It’s sorta implied in side stories that there was a point where everyone found out about her depression and was worried constantly about her. It probably was from an old friend group considering nobody else seems to know about it, but I feel like mc drifted apart before that considering he doesn’t know. I think they became friends again by sides stories, but considering he doesn’t act like he’s as concerned for her well-being as he is by the end of act one, he probably wasn’t there when everyone else found out and therefore doesn’t know about the depression here either. Idk though side stories have different continuity apparently so who knows maybe that never happened or maybe he’s just stupid

Yeah of course she still has depression here. It probably got worse over time though since I feel like her constant silly oblivious persona would have came from somewhere. She is naturally pretty upbeat, it’s just that she had to lie more over time in order to keep that idea going. Now she feels like that old her is basically dead, with her just masquerading as someone who isn’t there anymore.

She’s like the only one here who has a positive opinion of her past self, to the point where she actively wants to go back and be that person. In a way she still is that little kid, but at the same time things can never go back to how they were. Uh yeah but she still hates herself so I guess no one gets to reap the rewards of caring for their past self.

She also trips constantly. I don’t think it’s that surprising

Since Monika has the least specific info on her past I got to be a bit silly about it and make up as much as I wanted.

She is like completely different from her present self. Similar to Natsuki she’s also sorta identityless but in a weird quiet gifted kid sorta way instead of an angry lost child sorta way.

She’s pretty quiet and doesn’t talk much. With a pretty expressionless face and more deadpan voice she kinda gives creepy horror movie child vibes but the type of child that appears before the horror actually starts (which is to say not actually scary but just kinda weird) (I just realized a lot of this is just me projecting what I was like as a kid but with less prep energy)

Yeah she’s extroverted but at this point she doesn’t really seek out people until she starts actively trying to boost her image

She doesn’t really have many hobbies outside of being a teacher pet and if it weren’t for her stellar grades she totally would of been bullied, but she’s nice enough to help people study so she’s safe

She isn’t really the most popular in school until high school. She does start out as the token prodigy gifted kid so everyone expected her to excel in everything so on a whim she’s like ‘ok guess I’m doing everything now’ and it’s totally not going to alter the course of her life forever

She likes the validation and wants to live up to the expectations so she starts leaning super hard into the perfect image. She gradually starts joining clubs, getting cool achievements, studying for those straight A+ grades, talking to people and networking, and overall changing her image from quiet kid to strong confidence friendly student who’s going to go far. Awesome

She kinda had to train herself to not be weird creepy child and would practice smiling, facial expressions, being more sociable, talking less deadpan, etc. She has a lot of “fake it till you make it” vibes in the side stories to the point I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it. I imagine her going from weird little kid to most popular high schooler around was like wearing the mask until it became the real thing.

Tbh this whole design started because I really like the headcanon design of her bangs covering her eyes. And then I gave her a stripped shirt because it felt generic but also not boring but it ended up making her look like one of the seven human souls lol

Honestly if I could describe her vibe here in one sentence it would be utdr protagonist but like in prep school

ok that’s it idrk how to end this but thanks for watching hit the like and subscribe and

#you can pry utdr protag Monika out of my cold dead hands #also I love headcanon posts can you guys suggest more because headcanons are fun #ddlc #doki doki literature club #tempestmothtalk #tempestarttag #art #fanart #ddlc monika #ddlc sayori #ddlc yuri #ddlc natsuki #see I remembered to tag characters

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friendly-emerald-emily · 18 hours

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molly is such a fascinating character to me. and surprisingly, not because of her content in the show. but her lack of content. molly really felt like to me she was supposed to be the break-out star of the HiT era. let me explain why.

in short, it's all down to marketing and merchandise. i'm a massive HiT era apologist, mostly because it's the era of ttte i grew up with, but as i was looking through my catalogue of merch, i noticed something...molly was popping up. a lot. weirdly so.

i have a good amount of those briarpatch ttte board games, and typically they were for 4 players, and as such 4 engines were provided to play as: thomas, percy, james, and...molly? at first it seems weird, but when you think about it, it makes sense. molly rounds out a quartet themed around red, green, blue, and yellow, and also adds in a female character. i think that last bit is important, but i'll get to it later.

so i went digging, and the 4 player briarpatch games pre-molly usually had mavis in her place, likely also to add female representation, just swapping yellow for black. there are a few exceptions, i recall seeing toby and harvey instead, but again, it was mostly mavis.

looking at more merchandise outside of board games in this era, molly got quite a bit of focus. she was part of a set of 4 bath squirters along with thomas, percy, and james, and what i find most shocking, she was one of VERY few engines to receive a trackmaster remote control engine. molly also was featured on a 2008 great discovery trading card, even though she only had one line in the entire movie.

after this, i went digging deeper into the world of the thomas microsites and online games, where molly also had a strong presence. the quartet of thomas, percy, james, and molly continued in the simon-says type memory game (i think it's called 'peep peep!'?) and molly also appeared in the emotions game, but this game featured 5 engines, and the fifth...was emily. remember my point theorizing that molly was focused on because she was a girl? here's where it's important.

this five engine ensemble of thomas, percy, james, molly, and emily is repeated again in the plug n' play game 'right on time', a game that i own and remember fondly. emily was chosen again to fill the fifth slot, and i think it's because HiT wanted to have a gender-equal ensemble a la bwba. and i think molly was chosen specifically not only because her yellow paint is unique and for her gender, but because she is probably the girl character at the time that had the most opposing personality to emily. as we all know during this time, emily was interesting and had flaws unlike SOME OTHER ERAS- portrayed as having a very strong and opinionated personality, which would easily contrast towards molly's more shy and sensitive personality. both have also been described as having sisterly attitudes towards other engines. i think HiT wanted to prove in this 5 engine ensemble that they had varied writing for their female characters.

for all of this, i think that molly WAS supposed to be a much more important character than she turned out to be, mostly because she was marketed so heavily and disproportionately than her screen time would lead you to believe. molly also appeared more often than the other HiT newbies (bar rosie), but that isn't really saying much with how little other characters like neville or billy appeared. i don't know why molly was dropped so suddenly when the set up for her seemed to be there? only thing i can think of is that emily had just been moved to tidmouth sheds right before series 9, and that they didn't want to repeat that process?? idk i'm just spitballing because i've been thinking about molly a lot recently. on a small related note, her basis is also very specific and her design is SUCH a standout compared to other new characters at this time, so clearly effort was put into her. i wonder how different the series would have been if molly was elevated to prominent secondary character status like salty or mavis, or even main character status!

tl;dr i think molly was originally going to be important but then she wasn't :(

#emerald speaks #emerald essays #i love you molly you deserved so much better <3 #ttte molly #ig i'll tag everyone else #ttte thomas #ttte james #ttte percy #ttte mavis #ttte emily #ttte #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte hit era #hit era

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theelizamanelli · 2 days

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Tengoku

Reina Iyashi wants a normal, mundane existence until Satoru Gojo takes a special interest in her uncanny ability to bring people back to life (or so Itadori says) and offers her a job as his assistant at Jujutsu High. Tags: 18+, satoru gojo x female oc, boss x assistant, golden retriever x black cat, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, romance, one bed, implied/referenced suicide attempt, blood and violence, grinding link to all chapters link to ao3

——————————————————————————————————

Chapter Ten

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“With all that cuddling we did, I didn’t think you would mind,” Gojo leaned against the wall, gesturing towards the bed.

Heat spread through Reina’s neck, kissing the edge of her cheeks. Standing abruptly, she stomped towards her luggage attempting to snatch it from Gojo.

He yanked it out of reach, sliding it behind his body.

“It was a joke, Iyashi. It was the only room they had.” He placed a key into her outstretched hand with a chuckle before rolling their suitcases towards the opposite wall.

Reina scrunched her face and let out a deep sigh, “You’re lucky. Next time there better be two beds.”

“Are you scared you won’t be able to resist my late night charm?” Gojo fell onto the edge of the bed, turning to prop himself up on an elbow.

“You’ll see all of this and just have to touch it?” He gestured with his free hand down the length of his body.

“In your dreams, pretty boy.” Reina scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Every night, Iyashi.” Gojo replied sweetly before standing up from the mattress.

Reina began unpacking her suitcase, placing her clothes in the dresser systematically. Gojo leaned over her shoulder, watching her process with care.

“Looks a lot better than mine,” He took a few steps backwards to where his luggage lay on its side, the contents spilling out.

She winced at the sight, turning her attention back to the drawer. Reina began to tap her foot, glancing at Gojo as he rifled through his things - furthering the mess. Throwing her shirt down with a huff, she took a step towards him.

“Just give it to me,” she said with exasperation, nudging Gojo out of the way.

He sat cross legged on the bed, watching Reina fold his clothes and place them alongside hers. Hanging his button up shirts in the closet and lining his shoes along the wall. She slid their suitcases into the closet, his blue a dark contrast to her pink.

With a satisfied smile, Reina spun in his direction, “Are you ready?”

Gojo clasped his hands together and swung himself off the bed, “Here we go!”

——————————————————————————————————

The path outside of the inn ran parallel to the river, a sliver of the sunset remaining on the water line.

“So, there’s going to be a next time?” Gojo asked, referencing her earlier comment. He turned his body to face hers, walking sideways in order to meet her gaze.

Attempting to avoid eye contact, she dodged his line of sight by moving her head in different directions.

“If you’re good,” she replied, spotting an elderly woman standing a few buildings down sweeping the front stoop.

“Satoru Gojo is always good,” he stated in a serious tone, straightening up with exaggerated pride.

Reina snorted at the notion, quickly averting her face as Gojo laughed.

“What a beautiful couple!” remarked the older lady.

He paused, tossing a devilish grin at Reina before he twirled around.

“Isn’t she?” Placing a hand on Reina’s shoulder, Gojo gazed at her lovingly. “You should have seen her on our wedding day.”

He wiped a fake tear from his cheek, Reina struck him with a sideways glare.

The elder clutched the front of her shirt, “That is so sweet! Oh, to be loved like that. You are a lucky woman.” She faced Reina with a soft smile, glancing between the two of them.

Gojo squeezed her shoulder tightly, an indication to play along.

“The luckiest,” she grit out, a tight smile splaying across her lips.

“Are you two here celebrating something?” she asked, propping her broom against the door frame.

“Yes, our anniversary.” Gojo reached for Reina’s hand, she kept it tight to her body - her face hardening. Gojo pulled, forcing her to release the tension in her arm.

“It’s a pretty town, you should visit the bakery up the road,” she gestured down the path.

“Are there any places we should avoid? It’s my duty to keep my wife safe.” Gojo nodded solemnly, placing his free hand over his heart.

The woman appeared to melt at the words, throwing a scathing look at Reina’s indifference before responding. “Well, be careful to avoid the eastern side of the woodline at night.”

She paused, gazing towards the trees with a somber look, “There have been a few missing cats and dogs as of late. My little Pochi has been gone for three days.”

Pulling a photo out of her pocket, she pressed it forward into Gojo’s line of sight - avoiding Reina’s attempts to look. A smiling woman sat in a chair with a small white dog in her lap.

“If we see him, we will let you know,” Gojo replied sincerely. “Thank you for the advice!”

“Come along, sweetheart!” Still holding onto Reina’s hand, he yanked her towards him and continued down the path.

“Our anniversary, huh?” seethed Reina, “Is this how you always act on your jobs? Lying to get what you want?”

Gojo casually inspected the surroundings, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Walking in the direction of the woodline, Gojo intermittently stopped to converse with the locals. Spewing a similar story - the women gasped with glee at his retelling, casting judgemental glances in Reina’s direction as she sat awkwardly on the sideline.

There was a consistent resounding concern for the eastern border of the trees. A few had noted the disappearance of tourists - abandoned cars in the clearings nearby. That was all the confirmation the pair needed before they entered the forest.

——————————————————————————————————

The night had settled in between the trees, forcing Reina to focus her energy on avoiding rogue roots rather than locating the curse.

Gojo walked ahead, confidently, moving branches out of her way.

Stumbling over a rock that Reina failed to note, distracted by Gojo’s frame in the moonlight, she steadied herself on a tree.

Gojo turned towards her, one hand in his pocket as he commented, “You’re not the most graceful, are you?”

“Sorry, we can’t all have sixteen eyes or whatever,” She grumbled, pushing off the bark.

Gojo chuckled and stepped forward, surveying the area. “People have always been unsettled by them.”

Sliding in next to him, Reina watched as he used his index finger to pull the blindfold out - letting it spring back into place.

She furrowed her brows at the prospect, “I prefer to look at them,” she replied without thinking. Straightening up, she hurried forward so as to not catch his eye.

“You’ve mentioned that before,” he murmured, the hint of a smile in his voice. “It’s easier to have the blindfold or sunglasses, it can be an information overload.”

A crack echoed through the woods causing Reina to take a step backwards - bouncing off of Gojo’s stomach.

He leaned forward - whispering in her ear, “What? Are you scared?”

Goosebumps pimpled along the back of her neck.

A fox sprung out from behind the bushes, its claws digging into the ground. The entrance of a den hiding behind its body, four beady eyes shining from the hole.

“We found your youkai,” Reina said with a sigh.

“Poor Pochi.” whimpered Gojo.

——————————————————————————————————

The heat spread across the counter and slithered underneath the door from the shower. Reina used a towel to lazily dry her hair before pulling on shorts and a tee.

She opened the door slowly, Gojo sat on the floor scrolling his phone. His pallet of blankets spread underneath him, he slid his gaze upwards.

“It’s a cold night and all they have is that fireplace,” He pointed to the corner of the room where he had kindled the flame.

She looked down at her clothes, “It’s all I brought for pajamas.”

He shrugged, leaning back onto his pillows. She carefully skirted around his space before climbing into the bed. Reina quickly covered herself with the comforter, the cold beginning to seep into her bones as the warmth of the shower disappeared.

Silence stretched in the air as Reina gazed out the window, admiring the stars.

“Thank you for coming, Iyashi,” Gojo said quietly. Reina felt the heat in her cheeks, she leaned forward to peer down at the pallet.

Gojo’s eyes were closed, his arm resting on his forehead.

“You’re welcome,” she replied softly.

Reina thought of their earlier conversation, wondering how lonely little Gojo was. She reasoned that they had more in common than she realized.

The fireplace crackled in the corner, supplying minimal heat to the bed. She looked over at Gojo, seemingly unaffected by the brisk air. His proximity to the flames proved advantageous to not freezing to death.

Her teeth chattered loudly, her body shivering uncontrollably. Reina pulled her knees upwards to meet her chest and tightened her grip on the comforter.

“You’re shaking the bed,” muttered Gojo from the ground.

“Sh-sh-shut up,” her mouth fighting against the clattering.

“You know, I could think of a few ways to warm you up,” he teased.

“I hope you catch fire in your sleep,” Reina replied with an annoyed tone.

“Suit yourself,” the blankets rustled as he re-adjusted.

Reina stared into the darkness, observing how the light of the fire danced along the wall. Desperate to distract herself from the bitter frost threatening to swallow her. She glanced down at Gojo who was resting comfortably in the opposite direction, facing the window.

She turned her attention to the ceiling - reasoning with her conscience. Huffing, she gathered the comforter in her arms and slid softly to the ground. Tossing it lightly over his body, Reina pulled the edge of the blankets up and slipped underneath.

The immediate warmth spread into her toes and worked slowly up.

The heat radiating from Gojo coaxed her closer, she fought momentarily before succumbing to its allure. Reina pressed lightly against his body, careful to not wake him.

She felt her lids begin to drift shut, the smell of his cologne caressing her nose. Reina nuzzled her head into the back of his shirt, she froze - her eyes widening. Wincing, she inwardly chastised herself - he would never let her live this down if he woke up.

A few moments passed, Reina let out a sigh of relief when Gojo didn’t stir. Relaxing against his body, she allowed herself to close her eyes.

Lifting a leg to maneuver herself, Reina settles into Gojo’s lap. Sliding a hand up his torso and around his neck - softly playing with his hair in the back.

He lets out a groan, leaning his head into her hands.

Reina shifts her hips against Gojo’s growing hardness. A moan slipping from her lips as her fingernails dig into his shoulder.

She grinds, Gojo grabs her hips desperately - begging for friction.

He drags himself up and down, a blush spreading across Reina’s cheeks.

Gojo leans forward and kisses her neck, whispering into her ear “Are you warm enough?”

She tilts her head to the side, trying to understand his words.

“Are you warm enough, Iyashi?”

One leg strewn across his body, Reina’s shorts were riding his boxers. Her head lay softly on his chest with an arm around his neck, her fingers holding onto a piece of hair.

Horrified, Reina bolted upright - pressing herself into his groin. A low groan stuck in his throat as he reached for her hips.

“Please, no more movement,” Gojo stared up at Reina, a pained look in his eyes. “Haven’t I endured enough torture this morning?”

——————————————————————————————————

Sulking behind him, Reina dragged her feet along the sidewalk as Gojo wandered forward.

“Lighten up, Iyashi. It was only a dream - at least you weren’t cold,” He said playfully, a sideways glance in her direction.

With a huff, she smacked his shoulder. “Don’t,” she warned.

He laughed, returning his gaze to the path, a group of teenagers stood outside of a cafe - gossiping loudly.

“Yeah, he went to that old well again. God, who’s going to tell him that thing’s an old wive’s tale?” remarked one of the boys with a cruel chuckle.

“I mean, how stupid could he be? Does he think that’s going to make her like him? How embarrassing.” a girl giggled, leaning her head back.

Gojo paused, listening intently. Reina nearly ran into his back, stopping herself with a quick dig of her heels.

“What?” she asked, attempting to peer around him.

The kids continued on towards the river, a man walked forward to clear the table they had been sitting at.

“Sir? We are trying to do some sightseeing.” He looked back at Reina, pulling her forward. “It’s our honeymoon.” He patted her arm, she smiled at the man in an attempt to play along.

“We heard of an old well?” He inquired, watching the man’s reaction carefully.

He dropped a glass, clattering to the table. “The Yamamoto Well?”

“That’s it!” Gojo said excitedly, Reina knew he didn’t know the name but was attempting to drag maximum information from the man.

“Oh, well, that’s more of an old legend. A long time ago, there was a young girl named Mai Yamamoto who fell in love with a nobleman. He left her for a woman of better standing. She went to that well and prayed for him to love her. Using a spell a local majo had given her,” The man shivered slightly. “When it didn’t work she killed herself, throwing her body down it.”

“Now teenagers mostly use it as a way to scare each other. I have heard of some trying love spells at it again.” He shrugged, pointing in the direction of the well, “Not really romantic if you ask me.”

Gojo thanked him for the information before hurrying them along. As they neared the area he had referred them to, the air began to thicken. Reina watched her breath swirl around her mouth, she tightened her coat around her waist.

“There’s a lot of cursed energy here,” Gojo stated. The street gave way to a small clearing, surrounded by trees. A stone well sat at the edge, covered by a wooden awning splintered by age.

“Spooky,” muttered Reina as they neared the well.

“Very,” Gojo concurred, peering around it.

A young boy crouched behind the stone, his long dark hair wrapping around his face - his fingers clutching the edge. He was notably shaken, mumbling to himself, “Why? Why? Why?” his volume slowly increased.

Gojo bent down, hands resting on his knees as he confronted him, “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

He continued to mutter under his breath, rocking slightly. A slow whistle rose from the bottom of the well. Reina stiffened at the sound, taking a protective step towards Gojo.

She glanced down, the edge of a knife jutted out from the boy’s palm - his hand trembling.

The whistling grew louder, the sound reminding Reina of a bottle rocket.

“Gojo,” she whispered, a soft warning as he neared the boy and the well.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Gojo said softly, reaching for him.

His eyes widened in response, stumbling backwards to avoid the touch.

At that exact moment, a gray figure exploded from the top of the well - Reina reached for Gojo.

It landed on the edge in a crouch. The curse resembled a young woman in a tattered kimono. Her dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Three eyes glanced from Gojo to Reina.

Reina reached for the kaikens strapped to the outside of her pants, stepping into a defensive position.

Gojo straightened up, his eyes still on the young boy. He rolled his neck before turning towards the curse.

“You’re it?” He asked, lazily trailing his gaze over its body.

The monster cocked its head to the side before springing towards Gojo, hitting his limitless effect and sprawling backwards with a thud.

“How embarrassing,” He said, pity drenching his tone.

He stepped towards the curse, “How about you pick on someone your own size?”

It raced towards him again, its speed difficult for Reina to track with her eyes.

The boy was crawling around the well, in the opposite direction of the curse. She took a step towards him, the curse nearly reached Gojo when it stopped abruptly. Turning towards the boy.

Reina’s face hardened as she ran towards him, sliding across the grass to throw her body in front of his. The curse collided with her, she grunted at the impact - Reina slammed the kaikens into each shoulder. It roared before digging its claws into her side.

She managed to get a knee in between their bodies, she used the space to position her foot on its stomach.

Reina thrusted her leg forward, throwing it into the air. She groaned at the growing pain in her ribs, pushing her body backwards - forcing the boy to scoot along the ground retreating to the woodline.

“Help me up,” she gritted out, the boy faltering before shoving her upwards. She stumbled forward, straightening as the curse scurried in her direction.

Gojo knocked into it from the side, causing it to slip on the ground - it dug its claws into the grass to stop its momentum.

In the collision, he had reached forward to pull out one of the pink kaikens from its shoulder.

“You’re always losing these in fights, Iyashi.” He flipped it into the air, catching it with ease. “You should take better care of your toys.”

Reina scowled at him as he threw it in her direction, “At least I’m doing something, unlike some people.”

“Oh? I’m not doing anything?” Gojo turned to Reina, his hands in his pockets. The curse ran towards him, he maintained eye contact with her. Without moving he sliced through one of its arms, it lay mangled on the ground - desperately attempting to reach for him.

She rolled her eyes, “What a show off.”

The curse reeled, shaking its head before running towards him - he suspended it in the air momentarily.

“Bye bye,” Gojo said with a smile and a small wave of his hand.

Reina slammed her kaiken into the back of its skull. It shuddered before falling to the ground.

Gojo stepped over the corpse, walking towards the boy who sat trembling near the trees. He crouched down next to him, watching as he gripped the knife - his knuckles turning white.

“It’ll get better, kid,” Gojo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, slowly removing the weapon from his grip with the other. “Don’t be in such a rush to end your youth. It’s a gift not everyone gets to enjoy.”

He stood bowing before running towards the street. Reina observed Gojo, his eyes followed as the boy rounded the corner - a strange look on his face. As if he reminded him of someone.

A crack sounded from the edge of the wood, she braced herself for the appearance of a second curse.

“You have got to be kidding me,” muttered Reina as a small white dog bounded towards Gojo from the trees, pouncing into his arms.

He twirled him in the air - shouting gleefully, “Pochi!”

Walking back to the town, the elderly woman stood conversing with the kid and his mother - he was crying as the woman hugged him. She ran towards Gojo, the dog barking happily at the reunion as it jumped towards her.

The mother of the young boy thanked Gojo profusely, bowing repeatedly as she held his hand tightly. Locals began to gather, taking turns shaking his hand. He accepted all of the praise with humility, desperately attempting to point them in Reina’s direction. Insistent that she had helped equally - a few had looked to her in response, thanking her.

The elderly woman looked to Reina with a nod of approval, Pochi wagging his tail in her arms.

She nudged Gojo, “Aren’t you going to thank your beautiful wife for all of her help?”

Excited murmurs spread through the crowd, the young women giggling - looking between Gojo and Reina.

He straightened, his eyes softened as he admired her - her appearance lighty tousled in the wake of the fight. He searched her face for permission as the older lady pushed him forward.

“Well, husband?” Reina cocked her head to the side, a smile playing on her lips. She had been instructed to play along.

A grin spread across his face as he reached for her, one hand rested on her cheek and the other on the side of her neck.

Reina held her breath in anticipation, her heart racing.

He leaned down, his cologne hugged her senses as his warm breath spread along her face.

Gojo’s lips pressed softly to hers, she let out a small gasp at the contact. He smiled against her mouth, moving his lips on hers. He leaned her head back, deepening the kiss - his tongue sliding against the inside of her bottom lip. Her moan slid into his mouth, Gojo groaned as he rubbed his thumb against her jaw.

“Oh, to be young again.” sighed the elderly woman.

Gojo pulled away slowly, his hands still connected. Reina could see a tinge of pink on his neck as she fought her own growing heat.

“Better than my dreams,” He mumbled low enough for her to hear.

——————————————————————————————————

“I’ll miss that dog,” Gojo swiped an imaginary tear over his blindfold. “Iyashi, can we get a-”

“Absolutely not.” Reina replied sternly, rolling their suitcases in the direction of the train.

Slumping into the window seat, Gojo leaned his head against the glass with a yawn.

Reina slipped in next to him, settling in comfortably. She leaned back against the headrest with a sigh.

Reaching a hand towards her face, she ran a finger along her bottom lip before swiping her tongue across the inside - it still tasted like him.

——————————————————————————————————

chapter eleven

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