#NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE A BATTLE! YOU'RE NOT THE SMARTEST LITTLE BABY TO EVER LIVE!

[six-of-ravens]

that cheese post came at a very good time, cause MCOA just made me fuckin rage again. like if you want to participate in the skype chat you have to READ THE CONVERSATION, DUDE.

[stealingyourbones]

TW for mild unreality

So in a lot of DP x DC crossovers I notice that everyone instantly makes the connection of infinite realms = ghosts. But what if they didn't? I mean, to most humans ghost equals dead person. Not everyone in the infinite realms is dead.

Instead, what if everyone thought it was a realm similar to the Fae Realms? A place where everything is only as real as you want it to be, where the land itself lives and breathes and changes it's form every which when. Perhaps that's why the Fentons think of ghosts as mischievous semi-sentient tricksters, they misread some older texts talking about them.

And they could be right in a way. What if dead ghosts are actually the souls of people who caught the attention of the realms/someone in them and so the realms grabbed their soul upon death to keep. If liminality means you're a guaranteed ghost then maybe that's the realms' way of keeping track of Interesting People so they know when they're up for grabs (they were patient and let you live out your life without interference, it's only polite).

But then, why are ghosts so quick to jump to fistfights now instead of battles of wit? Well that's because of Pariah Dark. The older kings were all the cleverest, the smartest, and perhaps Pariah was clever in a way (he turned a battle of wits he would surely lose into a battle of power after all, and that takes some wit in and of itself) but he valued power and physical might more and so the realms changed to reflect that. And then Danny came along. A small baby child who beat Pariah AT HIS OWN GAME. A child who employs both might and wit in equal measure because he knows the value of both. That small child, king of Ice and Snow, Little Prince, Boy King, a Strategist, a Warrior, that tiny kid is now the King. And the realms change once more to reflect that.

So when Danny is crowned King the ghost zone goes back to being similar to Faerie, only with more fights because Danny is not afraid to straight up punch someone (he's kinda feral like that).

So on the DC side of things maybe there's a summoning (accidental or cult induced), or Danny ends up in the watchtower/Gotham/important place, or maybe the League decide they have enough time to scout out Amity Park and figure out what's going on. They meet Danny, who calls himself a ghost, and are like "You're not like the other ghosts I've met but I don't know enough to refute that" and eventually it gets back to Constantine about this "ghost" boy, and he FREAKS OUT. This is an Infinite Realms denizen, a people similar to Unseelie Sidhe in all the legends, him being a ghost just means he was (or would be, time likes to wander in the realms. Sometimes the present is the future and that past has Not Yet Occurred) interesting enough to nab when he died! And they've been TALKING to him?? That's how you get their attention! You don't want their attention! It's bad enough that Red Hood has a guaranteed fast track there with the sheer amount of Realms Energy swirling around him ever since his resurrection he doesn't need any more people putting up massive I AM HERE signs willy nilly! Just because most denizens are willing to wait until you die to try and steal you away, that doesn't mean that all of them are. And now that Pariah Dark is gone, and the New King is perfectly willing to entertain wit and humor in his court once more, well. It's free real estate.

TLDR the Infinite Realms are Fae-Adjacent and Constantine is Terrified.

I-

this is just incredible. I have no words. I am in awe.

[serenity-lattes]

Hi ! I got inspired by the Emily one you just wrote (which I love btw) ! Would you write a full on angsty one where either a gender neutral reader or Emily almost dies on a case and they discover they love each other??

Oh my gosh, thank you for letting me know you like my other fic! AS for your request, you’re a nonnie after my own heart! I’m a sucker for fics with angst and a happy ending. I hope you like it. :)

Love,

Serenity

One More Snowfall

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, main character flatlines briefly, angst

Word Count: 2013

A/N: After having a lovely conversation with CJ I got inspired to rewrite the ending of the episode “Lauren.”

Taglist: @lcvingprentjss @safespacespence

Emily sat in her vehicle, about to make a call when she was perplexed by a voicemail waiting for her. She hadn’t made a call yet, so there shouldn’t be any messages waiting for her. When she inspected it further, she saw the number. One she recognized all too well. Yours. She frowned and hit the play button, unsure of what to expect.

“Hey, it’s Y/N… Hotch told Garcia to try all your old numbers, but she gave me this one to try. I hope this reaches you so that you know that I’m so pissed off. Because for one of the smartest women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, right now you’re being pretty thick. What the hell were you thinking, Emily? That we would just let you carry such a heavy burden alone?” Your voice cracked, making you pause and collect yourself, “No. We are family and we help each other. Just like when Hankle abducted Reid, when Breitkopf targeted Gideon, when Battle shot Garcia, when Foyet targeted Hotch, when Gordinski falsely accused Morgan, and so many other times, we helped each other. We would have done the same thing for you, Emily, we are trying to do the same thing for you.”

You paused for a long time, making Emily think the voicemail was over, but just before she hung up, your voice came through, “There’s still so much I want to experience with you, okay? Stay safe, Emily, because we are coming.”

There were tears prickling at her eyes, threatening to spill over on her cheeks. She couldn’t involve the team in this. Doyle and everything surrounding him is a force the team has never had to deal with and she wasn’t about to do that to them now. She loved them too much, you especially.

After hours and hours of investigating, marking off the dead ends, trying to figure out why Doyle was going after Emily, the team finally figured it out. The only question left was where they were. Reid and Garcia answered that based on a set of photos of Declan and the house keeper, and once Garcia found the location, everyone rushed to action. Suited up and ready, You, Derek, and SWAT were walking into the warehouse with terrifyingly little information of what you would find. You and Derek walked into a nearly empty room, but a nightmare was the only way you could even think to describe what you saw.

Emily was on the floor, a stake sticking out of her abdomen, along with a puddle of blood around her.

“I got her! I got her in the basement on the South side. I need a medic,” Derek called into his radio before kneeling down beside her, “Hey, it's me, I'm right here. You're gonna be all right. Stay with me, baby. Come on, stay with me.”

You crouched down on the other side of her, taking her hand, trying your hardest to keep your composure, but this didn’t look hopeful in the slightest.

“Let me go,” Emily whispered weakly, eyes flickering between the two of you.

“No, no. I am not letting you go. Help me! Listen to me, I know why you did all of this. I know what you did for Declan. I'm so proud of you. Do you understand that? I am proud of you because you are my friend, and you are my partner. No, Emily! Come on, stay with me. If you can hear me, please just squeeze my hand,” Derek’s tone was firm, but he was so proud of Emily when she tried her best to squeeze his hand. It was weak, but the intent was there, “Yes, there you go. There you go, baby. Just keep squeezing.”

In moments, the medics were putting her on a gurney, putting an oxygen mask over her face. You stood up and followed, refusing to leave her alone. Hotch met you at the door, grabbing your arm.

“Let the medics do their work,” he ordered, fury welling up in your chest.

You shook your head, pulling your arm out of his grip, “suspend me for disobeying a direct order if you must, but get out of my way,” you ran to the ambulance, piling into the back, wanting to stay there with Emily. She was barely awake, but that was better than not at all. The medics were fast to start patching her up, save the biggest wound that would be saved for surgery, but then there was the dreaded, long tone. Your eyes widened as you looked at the screen, suspicions confirmed. Emily lost too much blood and was now flatlining.

“If there is anything you’d like to say to her, you better say it now,” one of the EMTs called over to you while they began chest compressions.

You let out a shaky breath and gulped, inching closer to Emily, brushing her hair out of her face, “The last thing that I said to you was that there’s still so much I want to experience with you, and I meant it. Emily, you are the one person that can always succeed at brightening my day and you’re the one person that I care about the most. I love you and I need you to come back, alright? I need to get one more coffee with you from that crappy truck outside the precinct, I want to talk about Slaughterhouse 5 with you, I want to fall asleep next to you on the couch while Sergio keeps making biscuits on our legs,” you were crying, though it was impossible not to right now, the woman you love is possibly going to die right in front of you, “I want to see one more snowfall with you and do childish things like make snow angels and snowmen before we go inside and indulge on hot chocolate and other sweets. Please come back because not only do I need you, but the team also needs you, and so many people out there who don’t even know you yet need you.”

And just like that, there was a blip on the screen, followed by another, and another that started into a slow, pace. It was far from a regular pulse, but it meant she was alive. You smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, “Keep this up, Em.”

In minutes, the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, EMTs rushing her out and into the operating room. You stepped out and sat on the curb, head in your hands, hoping that Emily would make it out of there. After what seemed like an eternity, you heard footsteps and looked up to see JJ sitting next to you. You have her a bleak smile, which she returned.

“She is in recovery, but they’re keeping her sedated so her body can recuperate,” she informed you, the dam of tears broke within you while she was patting your back, doing her best to comfort you.

It was touch and go for Emily for a couple days; she had lost so much blood after Doyle stabbed her. You felt guilty for not having visited sooner, but you didn’t want to go see her in the recovery room and see her essentially lifeless and hooked up to a bunch of tubes. It was traumatic enough having watched her code in the ambulance, something that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

You were at your desk, staring at the same file for the last half hour, feeling Reid’s calculative gaze practically burning a hole into your head.

“What?” you grumbled, flipping the file shut, turning to face said teammate.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last fifteen minutes and 45 seconds and it never takes you more than ten. I obviously know what’s bothering you, so why don’t you just take a break?” he said, considering his words carefully.

“It’s bothering all of us, Reid. She’s our friend,” your eyebrows furrowed. You weren’t the only one stressed out about Emily’s condition. Garcia has barely stopped crying since they all left the hospital.

“Come on, Y/N. I know I’m not the first person to give this sort of advice, but we all know that you and Emily are a little more than friends,” he chuckled, scooting his chair closer to yours, putting a hand over yours, “Even I can see how you look at her.”

“Shut up,” you pulled your hand out from under his, anxiously straightening out your shirt, “I can’t have this conversation right now, not when we don’t know if she’s even going to—”

You were cut off by Garcia’s heels making little tip-taps as she scurried down the hall, “Guys! Oh, my gosh, okay, listen! She’s up. She’s awake. She’s okay!”

The flood gates of relief washed over you, stomach finally unknotting since you found her in that warehouse with Morgan.

“Y/N, go see her, she’s awake…” Reid coaxed you, scooting back to give you the room to leave. You nodded and grabbed your jacket, not even bothering to tell Hotch where you were going. Either Reid would tell him or he would figure it out himself.

You violated too many traffic laws on the way to the hospital, it was a wonder that you didn’t get pulled over. When you ran inside, you didn’t bother to stop and listen to the nurses at the station calling out to you.

When you reached Emily’s room, you stopped, a hesitant hand on the glass door. Penelope had gotten word that she was okay, but you were still nervous about what was going to be behind the door. The last time you saw Emily, she was bleeding out and being wheeled out by a team of medics. With a deep breath, you gingerly slid the door open and stepped into the room, nearly crumpling when you saw those chocolate eyes looking at you.

“Hey,” you breathed, not moving past the doorway. It was like she was back from the dead and in a way she was.

“Hi,” she whispered, lips curling into a soft grin.

“I am so glad you’re okay,” You approached her bed, sitting down in the chair beside it, “you really gave us a scare, Em.”

“Half the team has been shot at one point or another, I figured it was my turn,” she joked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in it just yet. You were still processing the last few days, “Sorry, too soon?”

You nodded, eyes flickering down to her hand before you reached out to take it, “When Morgan and I found you, I was terrified, then you coded in the ambulance and I thought that was going to be it,  all our times together flashed before my eyes, along with regrets of things we didn’t get to do and for not having said all the things I’ve ever wanted to say to you.”

Emily’s thumb brushed along the side of your hand. You both sat in silence for a moment, only hearing the beeping of her vitals on the screen behind her head.

“When I coded in the ambulance, all I felt was cold and darkness,” she began, your eyes filling with tears at the thought, “But then I heard you, everything you said to me. Y/N, it was like you were my guardian angel or something, and I need you to know that I feel the same way.”

Your head snapped up, searching her face. She too had tears in her eyes as she squeezed your hand.

“I love you,” she finally said, tears finally falling onto her cheeks. She was cut, bruised, and crying, yet still the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You lunged forward, carefully taking her in your arms as you held her close, nose buried into her hair.

“I meant everything I said,” you murmured, leaning back enough to push her bangs to the side so you could press a kiss to her forehead, “because I love you so much, Emily Prentiss.”