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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months

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Hiiii i hace a canon fic idea! What if kook! reader runs into Pope after Rafe and Topper hit hol eith their golf sticks in that one ep from s1. Like reader is Rafes gf and scolds him and Top a bit🤭🤭 Also loooovvveee ur ficssss🫶🏼

Territorial bullshit || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: I LOOOVED WRIITNG THIS THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!

Warnings: mention of violence, swearing, s1 raf is a whole warning itself 😭

Word count: 1,297

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Hey Pope—holy shit!” Your jaw drops as you lift your sunglasses from the bridge of your nose, sitting up abruptly from the sun lounge. “What the fuck happened to your face?” you exclaim, furrowing your brows as you quickly get up and walk over to him. Pope turns his head away, clearly trying to avoid your gaze.

“Nothing happened,” he huffs, refusing to make eye contact. You gently hold his jaw, turning his face towards you to get a better look at the bruises and cuts marring his skin. “Nothing happened? What a load of bullshit,” you scoff, your concern deepening.

Pope’s hands come up to push yours away, but you slap them down, your eyes scanning the injuries with growing worry. “Who did this to you?” you ask softly this time, your voice laced with genuine concern.

Pope hesitates, looking at you with a mix of confusion and gratitude. He never really understood why you, a Kook, were always so kind to him. “It doesn’t matter,” he trails off, sighing deeply, clearly wishing to avoid further questions and drop off the deliveries.

“It does matter, Pope,” you reassure him, not wanting him to feel like his pain was insignificant. After a moment, he finally mutters, “Rafe.” Your eyes widen slightly. “Rafe? He did this to you?” you repeat, swallowing hard as Pope nods. “Why would he do this to you—I-I don’t understand.” Your hands drop from his face as an unsettling feeling spreads through you.

Pope hesitates before speaking, “I was on the Figure Eight side of the island.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Rafe attacked you because you were on our side of the island?” Pope nods, looking away. “Yeah, he said I had no business being there.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “What a fucking dick!” You turn to grab your phone, determined to talk to Rafe.

“Wait—Y/n, please don’t make it worse,” Pope pleads, grabbing hold of your forearm. You pause, looking at him and then at his grip on your arm. He releases you, his eyes filled with worry. “You have nothing to worry about,” you assure him, before grabbing your phone and heading inside, your mind set on confronting Rafe.

Storming into the gym room, you stride with purpose, your footsteps echoing sharply against the polished floor. Rafe, mid-rep, catches sight of you and pauses, confusion etched across his face.

Without a word, you march straight to the sound system and shut off the blaring music, plunging the room into an abrupt silence. Kelce and Topper, caught off guard, exchange bewildered glances.

“What’s going on?” Rafe asks, his voice uncertain, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You know exactly what’s going on,” you reply coldly. “Why the hell did you attack Pope?”

Rafe’s confusion shifts to defensiveness. “Pope? What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb, Rafe,” you snap, stepping closer. “He told me you jumped him because he was on the Figure Eight side of the island.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, and he glances at Kelce and Topper, who are now watching with attention. “He had no business being on our side of the island, Y/n. He had it coming.” Topper steps forward, ready to defend Rafe. “Hey, it wasn’t just about that—”

“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” you cut him off sharply, your voice echoing in the silent gym. “I’m not talking to you,” you glare at him. Topper raises his hands defensively and steps back, clearly taken aback by your intensity. Rafe’s defensiveness returns. “He needed to learn a lesson,” he mutters.

“And what lesson is that? That you’re a bully?” you retort, your voice rising with each word. “You can’t just go around beating people up because you’re angry.”

Rafe lets out a loud scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes narrow as an evil smirk spreads across his lips. “I get it,” he chuckles, a manic edge to his voice that makes you raise an eyebrow in wary confusion.

“You’re so worked up because you have a little crush on that Pogue,” Rafe says, his tone dripping with condescension. The accusation is so absurd it makes you scoff out loud. “Are you being serious right now—” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off sharply.

“What, you fuckin’ him? Is that why you’re so worked up? Huh?” He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with a malicious challenge, his presence looming over you. Each word is a taunt, a provocation, and you feel the weight of his accusation settle heavily in the air.

You stay silent, more out of shock than anything else. The sheer audacity of Rafe’s insinuation leaves you momentarily speechless. The idea that he would even think this, let alone say it, is bewildering.

The gym falls into an awkward silence, Kelce and Topper watching uncomfortably from the sidelines. Rafe breaks the silence with a laugh, a cruel, mocking sound. “Yeah, all quiet now, aren’t you? Fuckin’ slut—”

His words are cut off by the hard impact of your hand making contact with his cheek, the force of the slap whipping his head to the side. Kelce and Topper let out a quiet "ooh," their eyes wide with shock.

The room is frozen in a tense stillness, everyone processing what just happened. Rafe slowly turns back to you, his cheek reddening from the slap, shock and anger flickering in his eyes.

“You don’t ever speak to me like that again,” you say, your voice steady and unwavering, your hand still stinging from the impact. The weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a clear line drawn.

“You think you can just—” Rafe starts, but you cut him off, your voice cold and firm. “This isn’t about me or Pope or some stupid territorial bullshit. This is about you and the kind of person you’re choosing to be. And right now, you’re being a fucking asshole.”

"Like I fucking said, he had it coming," Rafe urged, his breathing heavy and eyes blazing as he stared back at you, meeting your look of disgust with a defiant glare. "You're pathetic, Rafe," you say calmly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

His eyes widen in disbelief, and he takes a step closer, trying to intimidate you. "What the fuck did you just say?" You stand your ground, unwavering. "You heard what I said," you reply with a shrug, completely unbothered.

Rafe's gaze darts to Kelce and Topper, seeking their validation. "Right, 'cause I don’t think my own girlfriend just called me pathetic, right guys?" Kelce and Topper exchange uneasy glances, their silence speaking volumes. You roll your eyes at Rafe's need to involve everyone else in your business, his constant seeking of validation.

"That's really fucking rich of you to say, Rafe, because if I remember correctly, you just called me a slut a few minutes ago," you deadpan, your voice dripping with annoyance. Rafe opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, holding up a hand to silence him.

"I don't wanna hear it. Apologize to Pope, Rafe," you command, your voice firm and unwavering. Rafe scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah right—" "Just stop," you interject sharply. "I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to apologise to him.”

Rafe's eyes flash with anger and frustration, but you see a flicker of uncertainty there too. He glances at Kelce and Topper again, but they remain silent, offering no support.

"You think beating up Pope makes you strong? It just makes you a bully," you continue, your voice steady and clear. "And if you can't see that, then maybe you need to take a good look at yourself." And with that, you spin on your heels, walking away. Leaving Rafe standing there, completely baffled.

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youraverageaemondsimp · 3 months

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Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter I : The Beginning.

Summary: "Be careful what you wish for" is what everyone says, you realise that you should've taken them seriously when you find yourself reincarnated as a character in the show who never existed.

WARNINGS: CANON TYPICAL INCEST, CONTAINS SPOILERS OF F&B, S1 AND S2, reader's appearance isn't described, only the fact that she is a strong, you can imagine her however you like, the picture used in the header is only to capture the feel of the story. A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune

masterlist // next

“Jesus Christ, fuck this show, fuck everything, what the fuck is wrong with the writing?” You exclaim in annoyance after witnessing the scene that was supposed to be heavily impactful be butchered.

“That is the most anticlimactic death scene I've ever witnessed, this has to be a joke.” You furiously ramble. You decided to give House of The Dragon a try after your friend had recommended it, the show currently has released three seasons, with the fourth season in production, you thoroughly enjoyed season one and decided to binge all the seasons.

However, everything started to go downhill from season two, yet you still decided to watch for the sake of your favourite characters, daemon and aemond, only to witness the battle that was supposed to be intense and stressful get finished in the span of two minutes.

You stared at the screen, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you witnessed Aemond falling into the lake along with Vhagar, Daemon was knocked off Caraxes too and fell to his death.

They wrapped up the battle in mere moments, which made you angry as you were so hyped up to see them fight.

“Ugh, I never hated a show more than this, waste of my time, they did season one so well, what happened to rest? I did not expect this.” You sigh in frustration, feeling like you just wasted your time.

“If only… If only I ever get a chance, I'd change entire plot and script because fuck this.” You lay down on your sofa, staring at the ceiling, the show still playing in the background. You recollected the entire plot in your head, thinking of every moment in the show, trying to come up with an easy solution.

“If only they had married Jace to Helaena, it would have been peaceful.. Or at least if they had an older daughter married to Aegon or Aemond.” You mumble, but then shake your head, “What am I saying? Things still would've been complicated anyway.” You wonder in disbelief at your own words.

You yawned loudly, stretching out your limbs and blinking your eyes rapidly, your vision began to get blurry and you sighed in content, finally willingly wanting to sleep after you forced yourself to stay up all night to binge the series.

Your vision darkened slowly as you closed your eyelids, head spinning as you took slow breaths of air, cool breeze brushes past your cheeks and before you know it, you're slowly succumbing into slumber.

You blink your eyes open, realising you fell asleep, you sigh stirring on the soft sheets, entangling them between your legs.

Soft sheets?

Your sofa doesn't have any sheets.

You quickly blink again, taking the note of a translucent veil hanging from above, surrounding the bed you're in, creating a curtain around your bed.

Why were you in bed?

You sit up looking around, taking in your surroundings, your eyes widening in fear as you don't recognize this room at all, ancient tapestries, brown wooden furniture, and the source of light being only from the candle.

Have you been kidnapped?

You look down at your body, noticing you are in a white nightgown instead of the shorts you fell asleep in. Your heart begins to race and you panic, unable to understand where you are or how you got there. You steady your breathing, wondering if someone kidnapped you to play a role in a mediaeval film of theirs? But why would anyone do that?

The sound of metal clanking harshly against the floor and a small scream made your head turn the direction it came from, the liquid in the decanter spilling out rapidly as the person behind the fallen cutlery stood in shock.

“The princess is conscious!” She yells loudly before turning around and running out of the room in a hurry.

Princess?

Is this a prank?

You barely have any moment to think when you hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming from outside to your direction, you could almost feel the ground rumbling, noting that everyone was rushing to this room.

You push the veil to the side and stand up, getting out the bed and examining your surroundings, looking at the sigils and the paintings. All of this looked familiar somehow.

A small gasp echoed through the room, coming from the entrance, which made you turn around to take a look at who was in the room once again. Your eyes widened at the sight.

A lady with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes stood in front of you, someone who resembled Rhaenyra and next to her stood Jace and Luke breathing heavily, looking at you in shock.

Did the house of the dragon cast kidnap you to play a prank on you?

That sounds too unreasonable.

“Oh my sweet daughter!” Rhaenyra rushes over to you, embracing you tightly, tears flow down her cheeks as she peppers you with kisses “I-i i cannot believe this, you finally woke up after many years.” She sobs, you look at her questioningly. “Sister.” Jacaerys speaks up, coming to you and joining the embrace of you and Rhaenyra, Luke joins in as well.

“We missed you.” Jace says and you stare at all of them confused.

This has to be a joke.

They notice the expression on your face and their faces immediately drop, “Your grace, the princess woke up after many years, she might not be able to recognise you.” The maester chimes in, Rhaenyra nods, sniffling yet understanding your condition.

“Emma? Is this a joke?” You question, referring to the actor of Rhaenyra, “I’m not Aemma darling, she is your grandmother.” Rhaenyra corrects you. “I think she must be confusing the names of everyone due to her hazy memory.” The maester tries explaining, you sigh.

Yeah this must be a dream.

You shake your head gently and immediately slap yourself to wake yourself up.

“Ouch!” You yell in pain, cupping the cheek you slapped yourself on, Rhaenyra is mortified and the guards rush in and hold your arms back so you don't further hurt yourself.

This is not a dream.

You can’t feel pain in your dreams and you will wake up right before impact.

You look at Rhaenyra’s face, she is as real as a living person, standing right in front of you.

She looks just like Emma. of course, after all Rhaenyra is indeed played by them.

But this is not them.

She is not Emma

You can feel the vibe, it's very different.

You’ve met Emma before in costume, yet they did not give off the vibes as what Rhaenyra is giving off right now, after all, when you met them; it was just a show, but now it's your reality.

Did you die in your world?

You’ve definitely transmigrated into this show, but as who?

Did Rhaenyra ever have a daughter? You knew she didn't.

“Mirror, get me a mirror.” You ask and they look at you questioningly, your form begins to shake as the realisation is too overwhelming, there are many questions in your mind, “Please!” You cry, and immediately a servant moves and rushes over with a mirror.

Your eyes widen.

It's you.

You had not become someone else, but you remained as yourself. “What is my name?” You ask, “Y/N.” Rhaenyra replies. Your mind begins to spin, you are in another world as yourself, you have not possessed anyone else, which means your body must’ve disappeared from your world.

You try to stay calm in this situation, breathing heavily, “You are?” You ask, wanting to reconfirm, you watch as Rhaenyra's face crumples into that of a sad face, probably feeling hurt that her own daughter doesn't recognise her.

“I'm your mother, you are my eldest daughter, they—” She points at Jace, Luke and Joffrey, “—are your younger siblings.” You turn towards them.

You nod, pretending to play the part while you figure out everything. “I'm sorry, I do not remember.” You apologise and Rhaenyra shakes her head, “It is alright, you have been unconscious since the past six years, this is better than losing my daughter.” She replies.

“Six years… Did I fall unconscious after Aemond lost his eye?” You think out loud and Rhaenyra looks at you in shock, “You remember him?” She asks and you clear your throat, “It's hazy, my memory.” You answer back.

“Your grace, the event was probably traumatic for her, hence why she can remember it in parts.” The maester explains it to Rhaenyra, you mentally thank the maester for covering up for you always.

You noticed how they were all dressed up, looked as if they were about to leave but their plans were cut short, and you recognize this gown of Rhaenyra.

It was the gown she wore when she left for King's Landing, in order to settle the matter of Luke's right to driftmark. “You guys were departing somewhere?” You ask, wanting to really confirm it, “Hm? Huh, Yes, We were about to leave for King's Landing.” Jacaerys answers your question.

“Can I tag along?” You blurt the question.

“.. Tag along?” Lucerys repeats your words in confusion, your language confusing him.

“I mean to say, can I come along?” You ask the question in a proper manner, Rhaenyra shakes her head, “No- you've just woken up, you might still be weak- I cannot risk-”

“Mother! I am perfectly fine!” You cut her off, breaking free from the guards hands and running around the room, doing jumping jacks, showing her that you aren't weak and are perfectly capable of physical activity.

Rhaenyra watches in shock, seeing you move like this but she chuckles, shaking her head in comic disbelief, “I guess she has not changed after all.” The maester comments which makes Jace and Luke smile.

“Very well, Pack the princess’ belongings, and get her ready for departure, we will depart two days later.” Rhaenyra orders the maids and you smile at her.

“But mother, I do not have many dresses—”

“You do, I had them tailored every year, whenever you grew, hoping that you would wake up.” She replies softly and you just then realise how Rhaenyra loves her children.

“The maesters said that you might not ever wake up, and that your body will be stunted from growth, yet… I'm glad their predictions never came true.” She smiles gently at you, you smile back.

The maids come in with a bath as everyone leaves, some of them begin packing your belongings. You notice how your body doesn't look how a person in a coma state should be looking especially in the mediaeval times, but instead you seem to be well taken care of, treated as if you were alive.

The maids quickly finish your bath and dress you up, you have to pretend to get used to this atmosphere and era even though you're highly uncomfortable, the mere thought of having servants made you feel bad.

And with that, the night fell, you couldn't sleep thinking about how you're going to deal with everything, could you really prevent war from happening? It happens due to a misunderstanding in the show right? What if the misunderstanding doesn't occur? Your mind was filled with such thoughts through the whole night.

In King's Landing.

“My queen, Rhaenyra, has sent a letter saying that their arrival will be delayed further.” The master sums up the contents of the letter in the council room, in front of Aemond who had been called by Alicent for an urgent matter.

“Why so?” Alicent asks, furrowing her brows.

“Princess Y/N had woken up from her unconscious state.”

An ear piercing shattering sound of glass is heard through the entire room, when turned to look at the origin, It is known that Aemond had dropped the wine glass he was drinking from.

“Y/N is awake?” Aemond asks the maester.

“Yes my prince.” The maester replies.

Aemond's heart begins to pound in his chest loudly, his mind spiralling at the thought of you finally waking up all these years later.

“Please excuse me.” Aemond gets up from the chair, excusing himself from the council and leaving the room, his brain occupied with the thoughts of you.

There wasn't a day where Aemond hadn't thought of you, he would at least think about you once a day- the news of you waking up from unconsciousness made the adrenaline in his body rush.

He felt like a hungry snake that had been starved for many years who at last found a prey to feast on, he felt like a drought-stricken land finally receiving rainfall, he felt like a garden void of any flowers which started to bloom once again.

He was thrilled.

He reminisces of the fond memories you both shared, he could never ever forget them, smiling at the thought of you.

He wondered if you had changed or remained the same.

Whatever it was, he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to receive you.

#; metanoia !#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #reader insert #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond kinslayer #aemond one eye

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toa-kirhan · 2 years

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First time watching ToH S1E10 (Escape of the Palisman). Thoughts below:

Detailed thoughts:

Learning the Bat Queen’s backstory almost got me to tear up. A very touching, humanizing moment for one of the characters I least expected to have one.

The tragedy of the Bat Queen lies in what she is: a palisman. Although its never explained to us, it doesn’t need to be: a palisman is a pal to its creator first and foremost and a talisman second.

The fact that the Bat Queen was abandoned by her creator, as if she was just an object, a broken tool that needed to be replaced, is heartbreaking. The fact that the Bat Queen found the strength to seek and protect other like her who were abused and neglected like her is heartwarming, and ties into the show’s ongoing themes of identity and solidarity. As Luz says in E1, “us weirdos have to stick together,” which is exactly what the Bat Queen does.

After what she’s been through, its impossible to fault the Bat Queen for not wanting Owlbert to go back to what seems to be a neglectful home life living w/ someone whose actions led to him being physically harmed. The Bat Queen sees who she used to be in Owlbert, and wants to protect them.

While I found the Bat Queen’s willingness to protect Owlbert from the start to be admirable, I have to extend that same admiration to Luz. At any point, Luz could listened to her friends and went back to get Eda, but to Luz, the Bat Queen’s trials are more than just saving Owlbert. Luz needs to show Owlbert and the Batqueen, prove to them, that she cares about him. More than anything else, it’s a matter of trust.

Thinking over the B plot w/ King, I can see that the writers wanted to create a parallel between Luz and King’s actions this episode, since both end up using one of their friends for their own goals, who follow their lead out of a sense of trust, only for them to inadvertently break it later on and spend the rest of the episode trying to regain it, but I’m not entirely convinced.

Luz’s actions do end up being more nuanced than King’s considering that Luz’s motive wasn’t entirely self-centered (as she also wanted to make things up to Willow and Gus, who would be missing the game because of her) and because she go to to get permission from Eda (although whether she actually believed King’s word that Eda approved or just rationalized that she did is less clear).

Speaking of Eda, there’s still a lot of mystery surrounding her curse. Considering that Eda's vision/memory is now causing her to disassociate in public, while the elixir can only bring her back w/ an emotional prompt, I have a feeling that we’ll be getting another curse-focused episode next.

General thoughts:

Bonesborough: home to a well-funded public library and children’s Slayground, but also a giant dilapidated track over the town. 2/3′s not bad.

Owlbert is precious ;v;

Eda made Owlbert confirmed! Owlbert’s a Palisman, made from the branch of an ancient tree. I suppose this confirms that witches make their own personalized staves (which reinforces the idea that Eda’s always been into owls).

Eda doesn’t know anything about her curse but has had it for “longer than [Luz was] alive.”

We’ve got the name of a new location outside of Bonesborough: Glandus High.

Hooray for sport!

When does Luz get her own school uniform? Sure she gets some Hexside pride clothes immediately after I wrote that, but I’m talking robes!

Living dragon longship bus.

Willow’s parents work. That doesn’t tell me much, but that + the comment about the abomination track having more opportunities seems to indicate that Willow isn’t from an influential family like Amity.

Eda needs to get more elixir considering she’s already down to one bottle again. Nevermind, the elixir doesn’t do jack anymore.

Owlbert ;_;

The Bat Queen returns! I forgot to mention it before, but the Bat Queen reminds me of Countess Ruby from Scary Godmother.

Spider demon w/ udders. Hmm...

The demon hunters work for animal control now? No one is safe from the economic pressures of capitalism.

Gus is halfway there to becoming an escape artist!

The Bat Queen is a palisman? ;_;

The boo-boo buddy club grows!

Owlbert a horrible liar confirmed.

#toh #toh season 1 #toh s1 #almost forgot the keep reading divider #the owl house #media analysis

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avis-writeshq · 7 months

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omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

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