#fought in the hell that was her 6th year

[tributes-vamps-and-ginnyweasley]

Why is there never Ginny Weasley anything? I've seen dozens of Harry Potter ornaments with a lot of range for which characters are included.

But never Ginny Weasley.

[meyrinn-revery]

What we have done...

Notes : This writing comes from my Hogwarts Legacy story We had it all available on Wattpad in English and French (Nous avions tout). Enjoy !

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Synopsis of the story : ' All my life I've been heading for hell, but never had I thought I'd drag you down as well ' - Sebastian Sallow

' They sold their hearts for diamonds and gold. I refuse to go down the same path as them. You and I have everything. ' -Omnis Gaunt

❗Warning : Hogwarts Legacy game spoilers❗

Y/n is a young witch who entered Hogwarts in the 5th year, and who found her place among the Slytherins. Between her many outings to explore the surroundings of the castle, or her fights against poachers, giant spiders or even trolls, her year was eventful.

Ranrok now defeated, and Hogwarts saved from a disastrous fate, y/n must face new dilemmas : the death of her beloved professor Eleazar Fig; and her budding feelings for two of her closest friends, Omis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow. Two handsome boys with tortured souls. They are the opposite of each other, but have one thing in common : their love for y/n.

The OWLs are fast approaching and the year is coming to an end. Y/n hopes somehow that her 6th year will go well. But between her mixed feelings, the responsibilities that will be entrusted to her at Hogwarts and the new threats that will hang over her and her friends, can she hope to one day find a peaceful and safe life ?

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I get up and rush out of the Great Hall. The sounds of cutlery slamming against the plates, the students' discussions that go through my head and the smell of all the food made available to the students for their greatest pleasure...all this makes me nauseous and only increases the feeling of oppression that assails me at this very moment.

As I keep running and finally reach the exit door, I nearly bump into someone. This person is obviously taller than me, considering that my head hit his chest. I know I bumped into him as I wasn't looking where I was going, but I can't help grumbling.

' Seriously, can't you watch where you're going ?! ' I snapped, holding my head.

Still without looking ahead, I turn away from this guy and walk out the door, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him.

I finally raise my head to find out who I'm dealing with and to give him a murderous look that only I have the secret. But any urge to confront this person immediately disappears.

He's there. Facing me. He dares to stand in front of me, after all that has happened.

Images from the last time we were together come to mind.

A week ago

' Flipendo ! '

' Protego ! '

I managed to shield myself at the last second from my assailant's spell. This idiot is starting to tire me. I know he will soon be out of breath, he is getting tired. Hold on Y/n !

' Crucio ! '

My spell hits the middle-aged man in front of me, who immediately arches his back in pain. I continue to attack him without stopping, my wrist becomes painful.

' Incendio ! ' I hear behind me. Great, he manages to kill those damn Inferius.

My attacker gets up with difficulty, immeasurable rage in his eyes.

' You still haven't had enough ?! ' I said to him, a sarcastic chuckle crossing my lips.

' You're both oblivious, you don't know what you're doing. You are dangerous to each other ! ' he said, casting Bombarda at me.

I fall to the ground a few meters further. My ribs hurt horribly, my ears ring.

Hearing the crash produced by my body against the ground, my friend rushes in my direction, and turns to his eldest, determined to get it over with. He takes over from me and bombards him with spells, he gets out of control.

Out of breath but still standing, our assailant addresses my partner.

' She cannot be healed, Sebastian. You must stop. '

He limps and is no longer able to attack us, struggling to hold his wand. But Sebastian doesn't want to hear anything and continues to weaken him. I too fought against him, but the young Slytherin is despite everything more violent than me in his gestures. He'll end up killing him if this continues, I have to stop him.

I try to get up, but my body hurts so much that I let out a little howl of pain. I can't even articulate a single word, I can only watch the scene unfolding under my eyes. Sebastian continues to hammer his uncle with spells, uttering a few cries of effort.

' Argh ! I won't let her suffer. Avada Kedavra '

' NO ! ' I finally manage to shout, reaching out my hand to Solomon Sallow.

But it's too late, his lifeless body collapses to the ground, defeated. Tears begin to flow from my eyes uncontrollably. I cry silently. I can clearly see that Sebastian is struggling to realize what he has just done. He slowly lowers his head to his wand and drops it to the ground. None of us speak. We look at the body of the man who was once her uncle, dead by his will.

' Depulso ! ' I hear from across the room.

Sebastian finds himself thrown backwards, his head hitting one of the stone walls violently. I see the person to whom this voice belongs more clearly when she advances in the middle of the room. It's Anne, Sebastian's twin sister. She was cursed by goblins a while ago. Therefore she is very weak and can hardly leave her house, she even had to leave Hogwarts.

' Incendio ! ' Anne turned, her wand facing her, killing the few remaining Inferius.

She then rushes to her uncle, gently turning his remains towards her, sobbing. Sebastian looks at her sadly, trying to catch his breath and fighting the pain. Oh, my poor Anne...

She gets up and her gaze lands on Salazar Slytherin's dark magic book that we had found during one of our explorations, Sebastian Ominis and I.

' Bombarda ! ' she yells while pointing her wand at the book. The latter burns immediately under our eyes.

' NO ! ' Sebastian cries, reaching for the now charred book.

Anne arches her back in pain, she is exhausted both physically and psychologically, the dark circles under her eyes and her pale face may indicate this. She looks up at her brother one last time.

' You've made your choice. ' she said looking at him painfully.

Then she comes back to her uncle, and soon both of them disappear from our sight. Sebastian gets up immediately, as if all the pain had left him, and rushes towards the exit of the crypt.

' Sebastian ! Hold on ! ' I whisper, unable to raise my voice.

[shycolorstudent]

Juuzou x Ghoul reader

I don’t like madly in love tropes where the couple will throw away their beliefs for each other. However, Juuzou is unhinged, and I think someone who is like matches. Let me know if I should go a different route or enjoy this. Also, sorry for the long Y/n back story; I got carried away :)

Ok, I never intended to fall in love with Juuzou Suzuya. I’m ghoul well half, and he’s a 

CCG agent. Let me give you a quick back story. My name is Y/n Arima… well, it was. I’m a sibling of Kishou Armia, a product of the Sunlight garden. My whole purpose is to be a weapon; however, my brother had one condition in the garden wanted to use his DNA, and that was to give me a normal life well as much as they could give me; my parents are a doctor from the garden, and a school teacher who couldn’t conceive a child and I was their next best option. Kishou couldn't live with me since mother didn’t want to be reminded of what I was.

I swear she loves me, but it pains her to know my fate when I turn 18. My life was great. I went to school, had friends, my parents loved me, and I could see my big brother every weekend. Yeah, I had everything, an almost perfect life, until big madam caught a whiff of me that I looked like a doll and behaved like one. I was kidnapped right before my 6th birthday Kishou from what I remember, planned a party. He was always happy with me. My life as a scrapper was hell. I was tortured to the point I couldn’t feel pain, and parts of my hair turned white. It’s the same as Juuzou. He can’t feel pain, but his hair is white as snow thats because he would protect me by jumping on top to take in the hits from Big madam. She couldn’t manipulate me like she did Juuzou, or should I say Rei, thats what he was called at the time. I also went by another name, but it’s dead to me.

To make a long story short, there was a CCG bust in the scrapper ring Juuzou, and I tried to escape. We held each other's hands tight, but with all the commotion, we got separated. A DOVE did recognize me and wanted to take me by force, but Juuzou took it as a threat, and he became restrained. His last words to me that night were, “Run! Escape for the bolth of us. Don’t you dare come back from me! I’ll find you, I swear!” So I ran to Big Madam, thinking she would help me save him; however, she scoffed and grabbed me, but I fought back with only pure and utter rage Juuzou worshipped her, and yet she was willing to leave him. I unleashed my kagune for the first time and sliced her arm.

I was horrified and ended up on the run having DOVES and Ghouls on the hunt for me until I bumped into Yomo; I was starving and scared. From then on, I’ve called Anreiku home on the run from my brother, in a relationship with a DOVE, and trying to find a place as a half-breed, as Touka calls it. Kaneki stood up excited with a ton of questions. Yoshimura told me to be open with Kaneki since we were the only two who could understand one another. “Wait, wait, your brother is the White reaper? Why are you on the run? You can be leading a safe life.” He said with much confusion. I took a deep breath and spoke, “He is, but years have passed, and I have one more year before I turn 18. I will be killing my friends and my family. I would rather be in danger than hurt my family. He will one day find me and take me back. Until then, I’m free.” He tilted his head, thinking of any other questions. “Free? Wait! You're with a DOVE? How is that allowed?” I dreaded this question coming up.

I get enough crap from Touka. “I gave him an address three wards away. He found me one day walking to school, and Yoshimura knew no matter what, it was a lose-lose situation. I love him, and I’ll do anything for him. Call it Stockholm syndrome, but I’ll leave Anteiku if he calls for it. But if I leave Anteiku right now, then they're screwed.” I sighed, and Kaneki spoke, “How so? Your just a kid like Touka and I.” I smiled, and before I could talk, Touka spoke up. “She went crazy from the age of 6, and she was taught how to kill. She's a grade or two higher than me. Scrappers know how to kill humans and Ghouls. Before shit hits the fan, she is set in,” Touka said with her arms crossed. Touka and I are close, but it wasn’t always like that. The main thing we still fight about is my leaving one day and being with Juuzou. “Oh, is that why she and Yomo leave a lot together?” Kaneki asked. “Yup, I’ve been helping with disrupting territories. It’s boring when there was no action last time and no one argued. They took one look at me and yielded.” His jaw was on the ground before today. He thought I was a more excellent version of Touka, but he’s slowly seeing my scrapper side. “So, who here for me?” I asked Touka, “No one; I just popped in to listen to God.” She walked off, and I had to explain. “Now, where we differ, Kaneki, is I can eat human food and ghoul food. That is depending on what I do. If I use my kagune, I need to eat flesh, but if I don’t, then I’m normal, but during the whole month, I use my kagune. Before, when I was in denial, all I had was human food. Not once did I dare use my kagune, which made Touka jealous. It wasn’t until last year was when we became close.” He understood, and I could tell he wished that was him being able to have my drawbacks *ding ding* it was my watch. “Well, times up. If you need anything, let me know. I have a date to go to.” 

I waited by the train station for Juuzou. Lucky for me, he respects my wishes of not wanting to see my brother. DOVES are supposed to report me if I’m seen, and Shinohara hasn’t made the connection yet, but it’s coming. I wonder how Juuzou would react if I told him I’m a ghoul. He might kill me. It’s his job, and he’s more violent than me. Even if I’m ordered to kill him, I won’t. I would expect my fate and let him kill me. I could smell him. He’s close. His scent is so good that many ghouls would want to eat him. I felt his hands cover my eyes, and he spoke sweetly, "Guess who?” He laughed and laughed back as I turned around to embrace him. Even though I’m stronger, I feel utterly safe with him. “How was school?” He asked me as he patted my head.

“It was good. I’m stressed about exams, but I’ll pull through. How's work?” This is often double-edged. I’m genuinely curious about his day at work; however, to get Touka and Yomo off my case, I provided information that I’m told. That has been a lot of help. “Same old same old. Sometimes you lived with me and not in the 17th ward. It’s going into the red.” He sighed. “Just say the word, and I’ll run away with you.” I smiled up at him he smiled back. “Soon, I promise. I just want to get rid of all these guys that watch over me. Now, to the Zoo!” 

-Some headcanons-

-He knows that she's a ghoul. He’s not dumb. She passes off as human, but he knows.

-He found comfort in the Zoo, so he took Y/n to the zoo so she could feel safe.

-He's very clingy and wants to run away already; however, he knows the consequences, and he doesn’t want to risk being separated again. 

-I didn't know what dating was until Shinohara explained it to him, and he thought you two had been dating the whole time you were scrappers.

-His love language is physical touch. You must be touching via a hug, hand-holding, or even holding pinkies when you are together. 

-Does PDA unless you tell him to stop.

-He’s very overprotective 

-Hopes that one day Ghouls and humans can be together 

-Like to kiss your hand. He thinks it’s more intimate that way.

-He acts like a child, and you love it. It reminds you to let loose a little.

-Your more cold and hes childish but it’s a perfect balance.

[rock-and-compass]

Episode 5.8 – Destiny

Precursor - I wrote about the fifth season of Angel many years ago - probably around the time that the season 8 comics were first being published. I originally published these meta essays over on LiveJournal and I've decided to re-post them (as written), mostly for archival reasons. I love season 5 of Angel. It's such a shame it got axed before it could get the envisioned 6th and 7th series

Written by David Fury and Steven DeKnight

The concept of destiny is an interesting one. On one hand is the idea that life is a series of predetermined events that are inevitable and unchangeable. On the other is the thought that destiny is shaped by choices, decisions and the utilisation of free will and thus the individual is the architect of their own outcomes. Most people would argue that they ascribe to the latter version. The high value placed on individualism, self-determination and personal autonomy in Western cultures certainly supports this position. However, humans, being the contradictory creatures that they are, also often talk of ‘luck’ and ‘fate’ as determining factors. We rationalise disappointment or failure with “It was not meant to be” or “it was just bad luck”, we romanticise events and relationships by saying they are ‘fated’ or ‘destined’. So at the same time we claim the right to determine our own destiny, we also make allowances for some all-powerful universal force that can also influence or determine outcomes. 

Destiny has always been important in the Buffyverse. Buffy is the chosen slayer. It is her destiny, her fate to fight the forces of darkness despite the fact that this will inevitably lead to a premature death. Her choice as ‘the one’ was outside her control, she did not volunteer for the position; it was thrust upon her whether she liked it or not. Destiny intervened, big time. Buffy’s reaction is to accept destiny’s calling, but on her terms. She gathers a band of reliable allies where other slayers have fought (and died) alone; forms a partnership with her Watcher where previous slayers have been subservient and changes the rules of the game by empowering multiple slayers and thus challenges destiny’s insistence on the chosen one. 

Destiny is also very important to Angel too. First, fate catches up with him in the form of a curse that derails his demonic existence and then, more particularly after he is returned from the hell dimension to which he was sent in Becoming (part 2). Fate intercedes on his behalf and engineers his return. But it gets him thinking and wondering why a mass murdering monster such as he would be the recipient of such mediation when he deserves no better than eternity in hell anyway. In Amends he seeks Giles’ opinion: 

Angel: I should be in a demon dimension suffering an eternity of torture. Giles: I don't feel particularly inclined to argue with that. Angel: But I'm not. I was freed, and I don't understand why.

And so he begins a process of self-examination; why is he here and what is his purpose? These reflections have particular importance to the souled vampire who has laboured with the guilt and shame of his past deeds for some time. Angel comes to the conclusion that the purpose for his existence is to make amends for his past actions.  Once he arrives in Los Angeles he is accosted by Doyle, a friendly demon who passes on messages from the mysterious ‘Powers That Be’, a metaphor for divine fate if ever there was one. The PTB are an all-knowing, all-seeing entity who can intervene in the day to day activities of humankind if they so desire but usually, in their infinite wisdom, choose not to. But they do choose Angel as their champion.  They give him missions; they encourage him to reconnect to his lost humanity by helping the helpless. They treat him with distinction, like he’s special. Well, he is one of a kind after all. 

The discovery of the Shanshu prophecy does nothing to diminish Angel’s growing self-concept of ‘uniqueness’.  It, in fact, proves it. The prophecy foretells the fate of a vampire with a soul who will play a major role in the apocalypse and who will win the reward of living and dying as a human. And, as there’s only one candidate in existence it becomes Angel’s unquestioned destiny to one day fulfil the prophecy. 

Um…, did we say there was only one candidate? That’s not quite right though. There was only one candidate but then the game changed. That other vampire, that little upstart Spike went and got himself a soul too. All bets are off kids. 

Destiny opens with a flashback to 1880, just days after William has been sired by Drusilla. In the Angel season two-episode Darla we see Drusilla, after complaining of the lack of attention she’s receiving from Angelus, advised to go and create her own plaything. Drusilla is enamoured with the suggestion: 

Dru:  I could.  I could pick the wisest and bravest knight in all the land - and make him mine forever with a kiss. 

Moments later William bumps into the trio as he rushes from recently endured social humiliation and romantic rejection (as seen in B5.07- Fool for Love).  Darla jokes at the sight of him "Or you could just take the first drooling idiot that comes along." …But Drusilla seems to see something in this tender-hearted stranger and seeks him out to create her companion.  Drusilla, of course, possesses ‘the sight’. She has psychic ability and can see the future but, thanks to Angelus, she is also quite mad, so it is difficult to know if her ramblings are actual divinations or just eccentric babble.  ‘Macha’ at the now defunct Tea at the Ford (in a meta that was titled “the joker and the thief: boundary and cauldron issues”) raises the tantalising possibility that Drusilla made Spike for the express purpose of impacting Angel's future, perhaps in some sort of revenge for how she herself was created. The King of Cups expects a picnic indeed, and just maybe that long awaited birthday has finally arrived. 

So Drusilla takes her new creation home to meet daddy. He assesses the new arrival as ‘another rooster into the henhouse’. Drusilla worries that Angelus is cross with her for turning William and making him one of them but Angelus seems quite eager to play with the new toy. He entices William into a game of ‘chicken’, holding their hands in a beam of sunlight until smoke spirals from their palms. William, though reluctant at first, quickly works out the rules and enters into the spirit of the sport. They laugh and Angelus declares that they will be the best of friends. Angelus is willing to teach the younger vampire the ways of the world as long as he knows his place and William seems to instinctively look up to and want to impress Angelus. Thus their relationship begins, an abominable [grand]father and son  with just a hint of competitiveness already beginning to infect. 

Back in the present day, some 120 years later, Spike and Angel are not the best of friends. Spike wants an office, Angel won’t give him one. Spike’s sick of nesting in someone else’s roost and it seems that as soon as he’s forced to share space with the old grand-sire that’s always exactly what he must do, play second-fiddle to his elder, be the second, superfluous rooster. Time to challenge some boundaries. Harmony gives Spike a package that has been sent to him, care of Wolfram and Hart. She opens it for him and a blinding flash emanates from within, apart from that the box is empty. Spike goes to continue his argument with Angel only to discover that he can’t actually walk through walls anymore. He’s no longer a ghost. He’s solid. He’s back. From the minute he’s back in corporeal form Spike makes his presence felt.  

Spike: Hey. I'm—(touches his chest) I can feel (touches Angel's chest) Angel: Hey. Stop touching me 

And that’s it in a nutshell. Angel just wants Spike to stop touching him, touching his world, touching his reputation, touching his conscience, touching his limitations, touching his identity. Spike takes the cup of blood out of Angel’s hand and drinks without hesitation. It neatly foreshadows coming events and begins to set up the dual juxtapositions of Angelus-William and Angel-Spike. Spike’s first priority is to feel. He sees Harmony, with whom he’s had prior dalliances (see season 4 and 5 of BtVS) and automatically sets about charming her into a quick ‘nooner’. He doesn’t have to try too hard. Angel denies permission but darn, Spike doesn’t follow orders anymore and Angel has little choice but to watch them depart. Meanwhile the office is in chaos. The phones have all gone crazy, the security and computer systems are all playing up and no one knows why��.

Back in 1880 we find Angelus and William post the shared slaughter of innocents. They are the best of friends. William is in awe of Angelus, he’s a bloody killing marvel. He’s learning from the best. But he still doesn’t quite get it. Angelus offers him a drink, but William rejects the offer:

William: No, that's your spoils, mate.  Angelus: I've had my fill. Go on, take her.  William: Nah. I think I might go and find Drusilla. She's prowling for street urchins in the east end. Make her happy if I joined her for a bit.  Angelus: She's special, isn't she? Our Drusilla.  William: More than that. She brought me into this world. Where I was meant to be. It's like... she's my destiny

You can’t say that Angelus didn’t give him fair warning. ‘Sharing the spoils’, ‘‘our” Drusilla; this vampire life is clearly more . . . communal than William’s still human influenced, strictly defined rights of ownership allow. Angelus doesn’t correct him then and there, instead he sends William on his way with a fatherly warning to be back before sunrise and a silent resolution to teach the young pup a lesson. Ironically, at this stage, it is William who believes in destiny.  He believes that Drusilla siring him was destiny and that they are destined to be together forever.  William, despite being a vampire, is still somehow in possession of human reasoning and romanticism. Remnant human impulses allow him to think of Drusilla as his fate, stop him taking another man’s ‘spoils’, motivates the desire to make another happy and indeed, leads one to sire one's mother out of love. Funnily enough it is this retention of human emotions that causes Angelus to decide that William is a little dim. Hell, what kind of daft vampire has to be told that the rules of the game have changed? 

Angel and crew put two and two together and realise that Spike’s re-corporealisation is the reason for the office going haywire.  Eve arrives on the scene to confirm their suspicions. 

Eve: Upshot is we've got trouble with a capital "T," and that rhymes with "P," and that stands for "prophecy." Shanshu. Maybe you've heard of it?  Angel: Oh, God. That again. Yeah, I'm familiar. So?  Eve: So it talks about a champion; A vampire with a soul who'll play a pivotal role in the apocalypse, for good or evil. Anybody's guess - That part's hazy.  Fred: I thought the Shanshu had to do with Angel becoming human again after—  Eve: That's just the epilogue, princess. And, for the record, the prophecy doesn't call Angel by name.  Gunn: Hold on. You're saying because Spike's back, you think he's—  Eve: I don't think anything. All I can tell you is his very existence is disrupting the order of things. 

A glitch in the system, his very existence is disrupting the order of things. These are great analogies for the character of Spike who has often been accused of being a glitch in terms of the whole series; that he destroyed Buffy-lore by making it possible that vampires could exercise control over their inner demon and feel human emotions (Weinman, 2003). The writers defend Spike by arguing that he is an anomaly in the vampire world (Destiny, DVD commentary) and indeed, his inclusion in the series allows for much more interesting possibilities than bland rule-bound monsters ever could. (And is he really an anomaly? Drusilla, Harmony, that smart vampire from Buffy season 2, even Darla post-resurrection, Holden, the vamps in the blood den that Riley frequents... they all show some non-typical vampire behaviours at times)

Eve acts the innocent as she explains but Fred is suspicious:

Fred: You knew this would happen. All that time I was working on re-corporealising Spike, you never mentioned…

Eve denies the accusation and hits the ball back into their court by asking ever so sweetly how they managed the feat. Meanwhile, the encounter taking place between Spike and Harmony is not especially romantic. On Spike’s side it is a purely physical act, driven by a need to feel after the prolonged deprivation of all senses. Harmony is affected by the harbinger curse and accuses Spike of using her as a substitute for his ‘Slayer whore’, and she’s got a point, it wouldn’t be the first time.   

Angel is in denial about what is happening and, more particularly, why. He doesn’t want to believe that Spike’s presence and more significantly his, in Angel’s opinion, dubious status as a ‘champion’ has anything to do with anything. But Eve is insistent:

Eve: Fact, Jack. There's only supposed to be one candidate for the vampire with the soul hero part in the big show. Two of you and the wheel of destiny starts to spin off its axis. That's why everything and everyone is going mad.   

A little bit later and Spike wants to leave them all to it and head off to Europe and, by implication, Buffy,  but the news that the Big Cat (the conduit to the Senior Partners) is gone forces Angel to take the threat seriously and to ask Spike to stay until the problem can be sorted out. Eve suggests they need to determine who the prophecy is about in order to stave off universal destruction. Angel lets it slip that he’s recently read the Shanshu and now Spike is instantly suspicious:

Spike: Hold on. You read the prophecy? The one you don't believe in? Uh, load of rubbish, you said? Well, isn't that bloody interesting. 

Hang on! If the old bastard has been reading it, must mean he believes it so maybe there’s something to it after all?  So, in the absence of Wesley they go to Wesley’s department, to an expert named Mr. Sirk. He tells them about some newly translated verses that speak of the Cup of Perpetual Torment from which the prophesied vampire with a soul is predestined to drink. 

Spike: Perpetual torment? Just know that's not gonna taste very good Sirk: "He will have the weight of worlds upon him, binding his limbs, grinding his bones to meal until he saves creation... or destroys it."  Spike: Uh...right. So, what's in it for me?  Sirk: The vampire will have his past washed clean.  Angel: And live again in mortal form. Yeah, that part I know. 

So, Spike glosses over the torment part, after all, suffering, torment and high personal costs are not new experiences for him, and he wants to know what’s in it for him. Sirk supplies the answer which Angel then completes. He knows it by heart. That promise, that reward, that destiny. He’s tried not to believe, to hope, but it’s hard when you’re a ‘prophecy boy’ to ever completely forget or disregard. So, the solution to their problems is obviously to get Angel to drink from this cup. Spike objects. Why are they all so sure it's Angel? 

Angel: Ah, come on Spike, you really think this is about you? 

And in that short sentence Angel attempts to put the usurper back in his place. He dismisses any possibility that Spike could qualify as a hero and therefore the possibility that Spike could have anything to do with ‘his’ prophecy. But apparently this is not something they can argue about. It’s destiny. The drinker of the cup is preordained and can’t be altered. Luckily, the newly discovered parts of the prophecy pinpoint the exact location of the cup. It’s in an abandoned Opera House in Nevada, just waiting for the right vampire with a soul to show up and drink. 

Angel: I really don't have much of a choice. If it's there, I'm just gonna have to accept that the prophecy's real, and hope that it stops this madness. In the meantime, you're in charge. Keep this place quarantined till I get— Where's Spike?

Spike is, of course, nowhere to be found. While Angel is standing around talking, being cloaked in his own martyrdom, Spike is already in action and doing. Thus perfectly demonstrating one of the key differences between Angel and Spike– one says, the other does, inertia versus action. On their way to Death Valley the rivals share a heated telephone exchange in which Angel comes within inches of claiming the Shanshu, which he has always believed was his, as his: 

Angel: You think this is a game? People are dying.  Spike: And one of us is going to stop it. Hey, what do you know? I vote for me.  Angel: There's no voting. It's a prophecy. And the Shanshu's not about you, Spike.  Spike:  Still can't accept it, can you? Sad, really. All these years believing you're the signified monkey, only to find out you're just a big hunk of nobody cares.  Angel:  I really wished you stayed a ghost.  Spike: But I didn't, did I? Burned up saving the world, and now I'm back for real. Wonder why that is? Oh, wait. 'Cause I'm the one, you git! 

‘It’s not about you’, Angel tells Spike. The gap in the information is of course Angel screaming silently “It’s me! It’s my prophecy! Now back off brat!” To make matters worse Spike vocalises Angel’s worst fear. “All these years believing you're the signified monkey…” He had to believe he was special, why else would he have been bought back from that Hell dimension? Why else would the PTB have made him their hall monitor?  He has to be special.

Spike beats Angel to the Opera House but waits for Angel to arrive before heading for the cup. For Spike, it’s not just about fulfilling the prophecy, it’s about a confrontation, one he’s been dying to have for a long time. 

Spike: Here we are, then. Two vampire heroes, competing to wet our whistle with a drink of light, refreshing torment Angel: Is that what you think you are—a hero?  Spike:  Saved the world, didn't I?  Angel:  Once. Talk to me after you've done it a couple more times.  Spike:  Done talking, mate. Got a prophecy needs fulfilling. Ta. Angel:  Spike! Damn it! 

Angel is still dismissing Spike’s candidacy because of his lack of hero-credibility. He thinks he knows the real Spike, and that guy’s not a hero; demons don’t change, and besides, Angel’s always been the superior one, and that certainly hasn’t changed. Has it?

Back in 1880 we see William returning from an unsuccessful attempt to find Drusilla. He finds Angelus indulging in some carnal pleasures with, William assumes, his ‘spoils’ from earlier in the evening. But it is not the unfortunate bride; it is Drusilla that Angelus is rutting and William is visibly crushed. 

Drusilla: The little children didn't come out to play. Did you miss me, pretty William?  Angelus:  I'm sure he did, Dru. After all... you are his destiny.  Drusilla: Oh. That's so sweet. 

And then Angelus laughs at William and his odd, foolish, romantic notions of Destiny and then Drusilla joins in. They both laugh at his absurdity. William gets angry, directing his fury squarely at Angelus…

Back in the opera house Angel reaches the cup. It’s right in front of him. All he has to do is take a few steps forward, reach out, grab it and it’s his. But he doesn’t. He hesitates. Spike arrives, landing just behind Angel. They both look at the cup:

Angel: So... what do we do now?  Spike: (sighs, punches Angel, smiles) What do you think?

Actions speak louder than words yet again; Angel hesitates, asks for guidance, talks too much. Spike goes for action, draws Angel into this long-coming confrontation.  

Spike: Come on! Let's see how much soul you really got in there. 

And so it begins, this epic fight between student and master, ‘father’ and ‘son’, that is about so much more than drinking from some stupid cup. Vicious punches are thrown and it is obvious that both are relishing this opportunity to finally have a crack at the other. Spike gets the upper hand and sends Angel flying backwards. As Angel lands he inadvertently comes into brief contact with an ornate crucifix. Angel recoils in pain and kicks the offending relic away. Spike laughs:

Spike: Oh, yeah. Look at you. Thinking you're the big saviour, fighting for truth, justice, and soccer moms—but you still can't lay flesh on a cross without smelling like bacon, can you? 

Spike belittles Angel’s superhero stance, substituting a cheap icon of middle-America for the usual ‘American way’. Spike is really asking; how can a superhero, defender of the helpless, really be a hero if he can’t touch a cross, if he is still innately evil? The cross or crucifix is significant here because it is the ultimate symbol of redemption. The crucifix is a Christian symbol that signifies Christ’s death and resurrection and the bearing of sin on behalf of humanity and ensures that, if faith is placed in the resurrected Christ, then forgiveness of sins is guaranteed as is as an eternity spent in heaven. The crucifix has always been important in vampire mythology. In Eastern Europe, burial with a crucifix was believed to prevent rebirth in vampiric form and increasingly in nineteenth century vampire literature, the cross became recognised as a weapon with which to ward off vampires, the holy symbol being a direct [and painful] contrast to demonic evil.  So if Angel is still not able to so much as touch a cross then what does it say about him and his crusade for redemption? Angel dismisses Spike’s observations not by arguing his case but by countering, “Like you’re any different”. The challenge has been thrown and Spike takes on the argument, he reckons he’s got a pretty good case:

Spike: Well, that's just it. I am. And you know it. You had a soul forced on you—as a curse. Make you suffer for all the horrible things you'd done. But me . . . I fought for my soul; went through the demon trials. Almost did me in a dozen times over, but I kept fighting. 'Cause I knew it was the right thing to do. It's my destiny. 

Spike is sure that the acquisition method of their souls makes all the difference. Makes his superior, makes him superior. It allows him to make ironic reference to ‘destiny’, a concept he no longer professes any faith in, just to rub Angel’s nose in it. Confidence and self-belief are Spike’s biggest advantages over Angel at this moment. Angel is so lacking in these vital elements that he can’t even mount a decent argument against Spike’s logic; he can’t formulate the words to defend himself. Time and time again in this banter-filled battle he resorts to cheap shots and low blows. 

 Angel:  Really? Heard it was just to get into a girl's pants. 

Um, no, he already did that, before he got the soul. That wasn’t the reason. But nevertheless, the allusion to Buffy and the belittlement of Spike’s motivation to retrieve his soul certainly get Spike increasingly riled.  In the course of the battle Angel again finds himself within striking distance of the cup. Again he’s hesitant; again Spike is able to make a counterattack. The fight goes on with Angel continuing to deride Spike’s mental capacities while Spike continues to question Angel’s hero-status because of his apparent allegiance with Wolfram and Hart and openly questions which side of the line Angel is fighting on. Angel counters with an enigmatic, “Little more complicated than that”, then can’t resist having another dig at Spike, “But you always were a bit simple... Willy”. Angel, confidence suddenly higher now that the upstart is back in his place, strides towards the cup…

A flashback to 1880 reveals Angelus repelling a weak, ineffectual attack from William with embarrassing ease. And so we get a look at how vampire hierarchy works, how the game is played.  The boy needed to learn so Angelus taught him. And the first rule is that Angelus is the boss. And the second is that in the world of vampires you can take what you want, when you want it, but nothing is yours. There is no ownership or exclusivity.  Spike tries to argue that he and Drusilla are ‘forever’ and sort of convinces Dru to the idea,  it's romantic and strange and enticing in this harsh reality of vampires and it changes the whole reading of the Spike/Drusilla relationship.  Angelus is scathing, “Ah, still the poet now, aren't we, Willy?” then taunts William into making another attack on him on behalf of Drusilla. 

Back in the present day the fight is reaching its climax:

Spike: Come on, hero. Tell me more. Teach me what it means. And I'll tell you why you can't stand the bloody sight of me. Angel: Tell it to your therapist.  Spike: 'Cause every time you look at me... you see all the dirty little things I've done, all the lives I've taken... because of you! Drusilla sired me... but you... you made me a monster Angel: I didn't make you Spike, I just opened up the door... and let the real you out.  [Spike picks up the cross and hits Angel with it, knocking him across the room. Spike continues to hold the cross in his hands.] Spike: You never knew the real me, (only when his hands begin to smoke does he throw the cross away) too busy trying to see your own reflection... praying there was someone as disgusting as you in the world, so you could stand to live with yourself. Take a long look, hero. I'm nothing like you! 

And so we get to the crux of why Angel hates Spike; because he is at the end of the day, Angelus’ greatest creation.  A reflection made in Angelus’ image so that he can look upon himself in all his glory. Drusilla might have been a work of art in the destruction of a human mind, but Spike, well he’s a masterpiece, he’s killed two slayers, he’s second only to the grand sire in notoriety, he’s a chip off the old block: he’s a legacy. And somewhere deep inside him, ‘Angelus’ is proud.  But he makes Angel uncomfortable. He represents everything that Angel hates, or at least he used to… Spike may be an Angelus production, but he turned his back on that, changed, challenged the demon, did what Angel never could, and it galls him that this little upstart might just be better. And to seal the argument Spike picks up the crucifix and hits Angel with it, sending him flying across the room, he holds it, deliberately and prolonged, demonstrating his superiority not only in the ‘flesh on cross’ stakes but also the redemption and demonic reconciliation stakes and brings us back full circle to the beginning of the argument once more. They are different and it seems that the method of soul restoration really does matter. But a hundred-plus years' worth of conviction that someone is your inferior is a hard thing to budge, and Angel doggedly clings to what he knows despite all argument and evidence to the contrary:

Angel: No. You're less. That's why Buffy never really loved you; because you weren't me. 

Who’s clinging to a ‘forever’ love now huh? So Spike decides on a base reminder; “Guess that means she was thinking about you... all those times I was puttin' it to her” he says, succeeding in getting Angel back into the fight. “Let’s finish this” Angel says menacingly and slips into game-face. Spike follows suit. It is kind of strange that it has taken this long for the vampire brows to appear, but now that it’s a fight to the finish, to the death, it’s no use denying what they are. The final phase of the fight is quick and to the point. Both give as good as they get but Spike manages to gain the upper hand, simultaneously kicking Angel to the ground while snatching a fragment of wood out of the air. Once the wood is in his hand he instinctively adopts a staking stance, hesitates for a moment, and then drives the wooden stake home into . . . Angel’s shoulder. Angel cries in pain and reverts to his human face. 

Spike: Probably should've dusted you, but honestly... I don't want to hear her bitch about it.

So, Spike doesn’t kill the old sire at the end of the fight, he chooses to show mercy where perhaps, had the roles been reversed, Angel would have shown none. Then to add salt to the wound, Spike reminds Angel that he does have a relationship with Buffy; that he doesn’t want to hurt her, that Angel’s death would hurt her and that he won’t be responsible for that. And even sweeter, is the unmistakable assumption that he will be communicating with ‘her’ in the near future whether Angel likes it or not. It is beyond his control. 

Spike takes the cup, he’s won the right, but still Angel tries to dissuade him:

Angel: That's not a prize you're holding. It's not a trophy. It's a burden. It's a cross. One you're gonna have to bear till it burns you to ashes. Believe me. I know… So ask yourself: Is this really the destiny that was meant for you? Do you even really want it? Or is it that you just want to take something away from me? 

It’s a nice insight into Angel. The promise of the Shanshu has not been all hugs and puppies; we knew that, but Angel actually sees it as nothing more than a torturous burden. You’d think he’d be happy to be well rid of it. But he’s not because it’s His Destiny and he wants it more than anything, he needs the punishment, the torment to earn his forgiveness, earn his redemption. It’s his proof he’s worth saving but it’s slipping between his fingers like water the more he tries to hold on to it. He tries to warn Spike, tells him about the downside to being a prophecy boy and finally tries to challenge Spike into revealing why he wants it anyway? Is it to be a champion or to take something from Angel? Spike’s reply is characteristically honest. A bit of both actually. 

By drinking the cup Spike stakes a claim for this destiny not because he believes in the destiny, but because he can. He’s the ultimate advertisement for free will. William/Spike was a good student. He learnt his lessons well. He learnt the ways of the vampire, accepted his place in the hierarchy and forsakes his belief in destiny. Angelus was an excellent teacher. It prepared him well for the break-up of the family, when it was just him and Drusilla. And they thrived together; he killed another slayer and garnered a notorious reputation. It was all going swimmingly until a mob in Prague got the better of them, nearly killed Dru and forced recuperation on the Hellmouth of Sunnydale. That’s when things started to go off track. The return of Angelus made the duo a trio and Spike lost his place at the top of the tree, as Dru’s favourite, now his elder was back. And then their audacious plan of unleashing hell on earth necessitated Spike’s allegiance with the Slayer to defeat them and win back his ‘true love’. Drusilla never quite forgave him for that and so Angelus was right; theirs was not a forever love, she was not his destiny, and he was lost. On his return to Sunnydale, the hand of fate intervened, or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? The Initiative shoved a chip in his brain that effectively ended his days of hunting humans. It should have been the end of him. He should have ended his days as a guinea pig in a science laboratory but instead Spike now starts to develop his gift of thumbing his nose at ‘fate’. He escapes, goes to Buffy for help, and adapts to the new situation. Giles makes an interesting observation in The I in Team:

Giles: Um, thinking about your affliction and, ah, your newfound discovery that you can fight only demons; it occurs to me that . . . I realize this is completely against your nature but I-I-I-- Has it occurred to you that there may be a higher purpose-- Spike: Ugh! You made me lose count. What are you still doing here? Giles: Talking to myself, apparently.

Giles puts the suggestion out there, a higher purpose, a destiny; but Spike will have none of it and he continues that way, doing things on his own terms for his own reasons. He makes his own destiny thank-you very much. Chip in the brain? Seek asylum from your worst enemy. No purpose to existence?  Find purpose in Slayer’s kid sister. In love with the Slayer? Forge a relationship with her. No soul? Get one. Not a champion? Become one. A ghost? Learn to affect the world around you despite the limitations! Want it? Want it badly enough? Then make it happen. Spike has never needed a higher purpose, a prescribed destiny to act. He is the master of his own destiny, and his seizure of the cup is a practical demonstration of this. 

But . . . the cup is a fake. It’s not perpetual torment, it’s Mountain Dew. The search for the cup has been a wild goose chase set up by god-knows-who in a deliberate ploy to god-knows-what.

Angel and Spike high tail it back to Wolfram and Hart where the chaos has not abated. Gunn has fallen under the harbinger curse, and turned his crazed attention on Eve, pinpointing her as the cause of all the troubles, singling her out as untrustworthy and a dangerous enemy who wants to kill them all. He’s sedated and restrained along with other victims. Sirk has disappeared leaving them with no clues as to who master-minded the plan to dupe them and no clue as to how to stop the madness.  But the second problem is resolved when just as suddenly as it began, the curse wears off and things return to normal.

Eve explains that the Senior Partners have been working on the problem from the start and have managed to temporarily restore equilibrium to the universe. She asserts that they don't know a thing about it and that they are as angry as Angel about the whole thing. Angel is both dubious and suspicious. The events of the day don’t seem to have had a lasting impact on Spike – but why would they; sure the cup was a fake, but he got his solid back on, got lucky, had an awesome fight and got to be the bigger man by not killing Angel so he could only feel good about the outcome. Angel on the other hand…

It’s his turn to be crushed. He confides in Gunn that Spike beat him. Gunn doesn’t understand; Wesley would have, but Angel has to explain it to Charles:

Angel: No, you don't...He won the fight, Gunn... for the first time, doesn't matter if the cup is real or not. In the end, he... Spike was stronger. He wanted it more.  Gunn: Angel, it doesn't mean anything.  Angel: What if it does? What if it means that...I'm not the one? 

And if he’s not the one then what the hell is he? Everything he thought he was, everything he’s fought to be. Suddenly there are question marks where once there was certainty.  

By episodes end it is clear that Eve and ex-Wolfram and Hart lawyer Lindsey McDonald, are partners in the plot to undermine Angel, they are the puppeteers masterminding this great performance:

And we are left wondering did they know what would happen once Spike was reintegrated with the World? Was the chaos real or somehow manufactured along with the new bits of the prophecy and the cup as part of the elaborate ruse? It seems apparent that the duo is behind the retrieval of the amulet from the ruins of Sunnydale and the postage of both it and the re-corporialisation box to Wolfram and Hart. It begs the unanswerable question whether they actually provided or engineered, through Lilah, the use of the amulet as a bargain sweetener in the take-over deal, and who they actually wanted to wear it. In Lineage, Eve alluded to the suggestion that the amulet had indeed been worn by its intended target after all, but this then invites speculation of how they could possibly guess that Buffy would give it to Spike. Speculating is all we can do because it’s never fully explained.  Probably doesn’t matter. The disruption to the universe does seem real though. People are going bloody-eyed and turning ‘postal’, and more significantly, the Big Cat, the conduit between the firm and the senior partners is gone, replaced by a howling abyss. Surely this is more than Eve and Lindsey could achieve on their own and undetected?  It is also important to note that Wesley’s absence is integral to the success of their cup scam. Eve needs her ‘expert’ to be the one to interpret the prophecy and direct them to the cup. It would seem that Eve and Lindsey were aware of the implications of the amulet and the real consequences of re-corporealisation, and therefore they had to bide their time and wait for an opportune moment before allowing Spike to become corporeal again. Team Angel is now on red alert but looking at the Senior Partners in suspicion. Eve seems pleased with this outcome.

And Spike didn’t kill Angel, she tells Lindsey, surprised but not perturbed. Is that what they wanted, or did they want Angel dead? Or didn’t they care? Seems they can work with whatever outcome. It’s a start.

Next up - Angel 5.9 Harm's Way

[vampy-bats]

Oh my gods, I colored and shaded something? What a surprise, it’s my DMC OC! I finished this while avoiding my missing schoolwork, so enjoy the fruits of my bad decisions

*Vergil and Rhiannon hate each other. I, the artist, do not hate Vergil and I think he’s neat. Vergil calls Rhi a wench, and Rhi calls Vergil Roi des Cons.

⬇️ backstory below if you care⬇️

First off, I headcanon that empusas work like real life ants. They have castes and an underground/Hell hive and are carnivorous.

Second, Rhiannon’s powers lie in blood-bending. She mostly used her own blood to grow blades from her skin, but she’s able to control any blood. She manipulates the life force within the blood rather than any physical substance. Rhiannon also stores blood she consumes in her skin like red and “worker” empusas do.

Third, I’m using the games as a time reference. The games still happen as canon here.

TLDR for the full backstory-

Rhiannon Valond is half empusa queen, half human. Dante ruins her family’s livelihood but it’s fine bc she found her bio dad in the process. Rhi searches for work for long enough that she moves to England. She did not anticipate encountering the man who almost killed her nor did she plan on falling in love with him.

—————���——

This is a long one and I’m not super confident in my writing, so bear with me.

Rhiannon came into existence when a French bio-demonologist decided to fuck around and find out. Dr. Blanchard (the scientist in question) doused himself in empusa drone pheromones and walked right into a hive with the intent to map it. He did not account for the fact that it was darker than a void in the hive, nor did he know the effects the pheromones would have. He was eventually rescued by devil hunters with little to no memory of the excursion.

A few years later, the empusa hive was revisited by devil hunters. This time, they had stumbled upon a human girl around 2 years old. She seemed completely normal except for a bright red forelock. The girl was named Rhiannon at the orphanage.

When Rhiannon was 13, demonic powers began to manifest in her. Her powers were left unchecked long enough to nearly kill someone before devil hunters were called again. Only one hunter answered the call: a man named Andre Valond.

Andre carried the belief that devils cannot cry, and that any being that cries has enough humanity to be saved. When Andre arrived at the foster home Rhiannon was in, she broke down into tears. Andre spared her life and took her under his wing. It wasn’t long before Rhiannon was officially adopted into the Valond family, finally gaining parents and three younger brothers.

The Valond family was sustained on the constant income from fending off the empusa hive. The French military caught wind of a certain legendary devil hunter from England. A letter lands on the desk of Devil May Cry. (c. DMC3)

Demonic steel clashes with blood-forged iron. Neither fighter can see the other with human eyes. Dante only can defend himself by his 6th sense. Whatever is attacking him is unlike anything he has ever fought before, but he knows he’s equally matched.

Dante catches an opening, pinning his attacker to the ground with his sword. It’s only then that Rhiannon de-triggers. Queue a dramatic speech that I shall not transcribe.

With her main source of income gone after Dante’s little Paris vacation, Rhiannon is forced to look elsewhere for work. She finds a position at an academic institution for controlling “test subjects”. Several assistants point out Rhiannon’s striking resemblance to their lead researcher. She doesn’t get to meet the man until someone finds out about what she can do.

Rhiannon receives special attention from Dr. Blanchard for being a devil hybrid, even becoming a test subject herself. He conducts several DNA tests to find out what kind of devil she could possibly be. Blanchard runs Rhiannon’s genetic markers through his data bank, completely forgetting his own was recorded for a previous project. The best possible matches for Rhiannon’s DNA is an Empusa Queen and Dr. Blanchard himself.

With no real way to prove it, Dr. Blanchard’s hypothesis becomes Rhiannon’s new truth. Her biological father is this man of science and her biological mother is a giant ant demon. How this combination occurred, no one would ever know. Rhiannon decided to keep the Valond family name, as she still considers Andre to be her dad.

Nothing lasts forever, and Blanchard’s team is forced to focus on new projects. Rhiannon loses her job a-fucking-gain and starts searching for hunting gigs. Rumors lead the now 27 year old woman to a tiny city in England. (c. 2007 anime)

Rhiannon finds her way to Bobby’s Cellar, where a certain white-haired man whistles from the bar. The blonde girl he’s with smacks him upside the head, earning a laugh from Rhiannon.

Dante and Rhiannon get on like oil and water at first. Rhi hates the way Dante never seems to take anything seriously. She despises the way he keeps so many damn secrets. And of course, all Dante can do is flirt and joke. Dante continuously tries to steer Rhi away from devil hunting, oblivious to the fact she’s done it her whole life. Things change the moment Dante first witnesses Rhiannon’s Devil Trigger in battle.

Fast forward a good 10 years (c. DMC 4), and Dante and Rhiannon had eloped. Neither had enough friends and family to have a large wedding, and they kept it on the down low. Somewhere in this time skip, Rhiannon lost her left leg above the knee, forcing her into retirement. They also have two kids, Leona and Percival (ages 3 years and 7 months respectively by the events of DMC 4).

After DMC 5, Rhiannon takes over Devil May Cry. Nico makes a fully functional brass leg for Rhi. The new prosthetic allows her to go back into devil-hunting again, although she’s rusty from so many years of retirement. (The brass leg is a reference to the mythological empusas).

[cha0sf0xx]

CHARACTER INFO:

Character name: Jae-Edmund Avery

Age & Birthday: 25 & 6th august 

Gender & Pronouns: trans Male, he/him 

Occupation: Owner of the business that deals with asian artefacts and herbs

Blood Status: Pureblood

Previous House: Slytherin

Previous Affiliation: Death eater

Face Claim: Woo do-hwan

Password: Fennec Fox 

BIOGRAPHY:

(tw: sadistic tendencies, hints at murder, prison and isolation)

Jae-Edmund Avery was born into the family of sacred 28. His mother was estatic to have a baby girl. She has always dreamed of raising a girl into her perfect image. Having a ather who cared little about a daughter, wishing only for an heir to give his title to his mother would have managed to make him into her perfect doll if not the fact that Jae-Edmund Avery didn't feel like a girl at all. 

He had screamed and kicked when a dress was pulled onto his body. Always wanting to be like his father, broad shouldered, tall, powerful, masculine. The little boy didn't truly understand why he was different from his dad. It was when he was finally around the age of 10 when he put his foot down and demanded that he was a boy. It cause his mother much grief to accept him like that but his father much liked the idea of a heir, so his transition was somewhat a transaction. Exchanging one parent who wished to mould him however they pleased with another one.

thus the heir of Avery family came to go to hogwarts and be sorted into the house that was expected of him. The house of snakes, slytherin. Jae was told exactly who he should befriend, his father's friends had kids around his age, whose future was great, or so his father would say, Jae of course believed him and so he obediently befriended the needed kids. He took like duck to water when it came to his father's ideals. Purebloods are above all else and being from sacred 28 means he was extra special. Avery liked the idea of that. 

His sadistic tendencies slowly grew stronger and more noticable. The type of humour he found amusing was cruel and chaotic, however his father was more than happy to encourage such acts. So the boy grew bolder with each year until he finally took the dark mark by the end of his school.

He fought many people during the war, enjoyed being a soldier, putting his energy into something destructive. He had blood on his hands, it never truly bothered him really. He knew who he was from a young age and never ran from it, he wouldn't start to after war either. 

Azkaban was hard on him. The walls around him seemed to shrink onto him. The coldness, dampness of the room, if he could even call it one, seemed to chill his bones, freeze his blood. At first he was able to handle all of this, the adrenaline in his blood, the constant presence of the threat right there, hovering all over the prison, in between the cell. He kept his eyes open, his wits sharp, his ears on the ready. But time ticked away far too slow in a place that even during the warmest days of the year barely had him seeing rays of the sunlight. He tried to keep track of days, somewhat. Deciding each time he fell asleep was the night and when he woke up was the day. Slowly, such calculations became unreliable, his body was so so tired, his blood suddenly had no adrenaline to supply him with, he slept longer, more often…or so he felt each time he opened his eyes from another nap. Yet it was part of a routine now. To keep track of each time he woke up. By the time he got out of that little pocket of hell he thought two years and four months had passed, he missed the mark by a lot. He was stuck there for a year and a half and he felt like someone who spent much longer in that cell. Even with his body weakened and his hands shaking, the desires that swirled inside him, simmered right under his skin, never died. Just like they were during the war.  He misses it sometimes. The rush he got during fights, the manic glee when he heard screams, maybe he was broken beyond salvaging but Jae-Edmund Avery was a good actor if nothing else. So he kept his eyes ahead and forgot whatever lovely fever dream the war felt like to him, or pretended to forget at least. He tried to forget his cell, the cell that probably still called out his name. He was not that successful in that regard either. Trying to be the perfect little Lord just like his father wished him to be. He was strong and powerful and an Avery, Jae knew he would be able to handle it. He had to.

[c4tg1rlf41lur3]

had a power thought at work today and so i wrote it down in the silly little work memo pad. im just gonna write it all down here. bc i can.

transcription start!

' golden trio? cursed trio. obvi we have harry first, like OBVIOUSLY he's got his curse scar forehead shtick, but also he's like. fought death since age 11 (AT LEAST). mans is not gonna b completely unscathed save for the silly little death curse scar :3 he's prob got a burned palm from the philosopher's stone/quirrdle. quickle. what the fuck's name. him. 2nd year we've got the basilisk fang stab. big scar, pheonix tears or no. 3rd year he got no big wounds from what i can remember? whole lot of emotional trauma but what's new. 4th year burns from dragon in 1st task, maybe some residual gill/webbing scars from gillyweed in 2nd task, then the piece de fucking resistance from the third task. by that i mean forehead scar is prob. worse. somehow. maybe it spiders out like cracks in the skin further than it already has. and by lightning scar i also mean like actual lightning. not that shitty little ⚡️ something messy and even bigger after the graveyard ("i can touch you now" scene) + scar on forearm from blood sacrifice. 5th year "i must not tell lies". obvi. then a lot of shit happens to harry in 6th/"7th" year that i Do Not Remember woops. whatever happens there = still there.

RON! bestie. bby. im so sorry the movies utterly DESTROYED ur character. he doesn't suffer as much physical damage (still emotional! but) + a lot he does receive isn't caused by magical curse objects physically hurting him. i've got rules for these headcanons you just don't get to know what they are. (directly caused by magical object/curse/cursed object = scar) (indirectly caused by magic or nonmagical encounter = no scar) (<- situational healing magic properties). anyways ron. lots of his injuries are indirectly caused by magic (i.e hit down by chess pieces) this trend gets obliterated past 4th year. ministry of magic showdown. the works. those weird brain jellyfish things that stuck on him all mind zappy + literal zappy. THE FUCKING LOCKET. aw harry, ron, n hermione have matching scars <3 from the locket horcrux. they all wore it right. im sorry rons section isn't as detailed i just know he went through HELL in the last books but I! DO NOT! REMEMBER THOSE! bad jojo. woe is me. FIENDFYRE BURNS. WHAT THE FU-

hermione is a similar case to ron, but actually very little physically happens to her, magical or no. i scoff at this blatant sexism. i'd like to think maybe the polyjuice potion cat hair fiasco of 2nd year may have had some lasting effects (purrhaps some facial scarring from whiskers, marks at her tailbone from the tail) (haha) (see what i did there) (anyways) then we have the removal of an imperfection when they fixed her teeth. more sexism with that btw. but like ron, lots of damage past the 4th book. notably the written "mudblood" scar from bellatrix. i cannot remember what else happens to hermione other than that. guess i'll die '

the end. theres very little point to this tbh i just thought it was interesting. i didn't check my work at all btw. if anythings wrong i. Dont care love u byeeeeee

[pinacoladamatata]

just rambling about my favorite tav below

She has a bad habit of casting feather fall and jumping off things especially during combat but they forget it only lasts for a minute and Astarion keeps having to catch (revive) her when they plummet to the ground bc he's the rogue and they only one w enough movement speed to get to her

Tavirr (not her real name) is the youngest daughter of Quenthel, 6th child out of 7, with one younger brother who is like 12, and she loves him very much. And she didn't want to flee her home but she did immediately after hesitating during her trial bc she knew Lolth would send someone after her. And she's convinced the tadpole is what's blocking lolth's assassins ability to know her location. So early on she is the only other person, aside from Astarion, who doesn't want to immediately be rid of it once they realize they aren't turning.

To top it off, right before the mindflayer abduction she saw a *presence* of eilistraee for the first time and she's slowly been struggling with her faith. What if Lolth isn't worth it? What if she moved on? And it's only getting reinforced bc Shadowheart and Lae'zel going through what they do.

When i created her backstory (back in like patch 3) i had no idea it was going to be such a good narrative foil to Astarion. He's quick to anger and she's fucking impassive as hell. he's known nothing but trauma for 200 years while she's been pampered royalty. he's stunned by receiving a hug, she's going crazy missing intimacy after killing her spouse for her 5th trial. he's secretly insecure, she secretly thinks she could be a better god than lolth. He's an "oldest sibling" she's the baby of the baenre girls. Astarion's considering doing cazador's ritual to become *the* most powerful vampire in the realms, she's contemplating using the netherese crown to become a god so she can kill lolth out of revenge.

She was also trying to manipulate Astarion into an alliance i.e. sex for protection. But feelings become a problem. And she's actually invested in killing cazador now but she's fairly certain Astarion won't help her kill Lolth and fully expects him to go his own way once all is done.

this also literally decided she was going to romance him in early access when i fought the goblins and dror ragzlin sparta kicked her into the spider pit. (the nerve? the audacity? she's a fucking baenre?) but anyway it triggered the spider dialogue, she convinced the spiders she was lolth, but then acid damage knocked her out and Astarion was the only party member who could reach her via a combo of the mobile feat, bonus action dash and boots of speed. and bc of this silly game mechanic i decided it was very romantic

And the ascendant ritual! Oof. She was kind of hoping he would just do it.

BUT he didn't go through with the ritual?! so i imagine tav was like "Tell all the spawns to go to Menzoberranzan and ask for Myrinel, tell them Ryna sent you" which probably prompts Gale to be like "um excuse me? Myrinel Baenre?" bc gale reads books so he's probably heard of her, and Tav's like "yes she's my oldest sister." and that's how the rest of the gang finds out she's basically the fucking princess of Menzoberranzan

she's totally not feeling guilty or in any way responsible for all these spawn and not wondering if astarion *should* have done the ritual bc she thinks this vampire ascendant thing sounds like it could have helped her kill lolth and take her place with the help of the crown.

And she's still grieving like her spouse died (was killed by her, on lolth's orders) less than a month ago by the time she wakes up on the beach. She thinks she failed her 5th trial bc she hesitated on killing them, but she didn't actually fail it and her crisis of faith is entirely her own making, and she actually has lolth's favor, meaning there never were assassins after her. And she's gonna have to either take the crown and go apeshit or, or, she could move on... But that's terrifying

[taketherycen-brycen]

Rewind, Breathe

Wake up, jumping out of bed. Heart racing, head spinning. Where am I? I was just in our cabin, reliving what you did to me. Deep breath. I am safe, we’re safe. Look over at my computer screen, see them sleeping. Breathe.

I don’t remember a lot about that night. Hell…I don’t even know the date. Not like I do with other events. September 6th. That one I remember. But the event that took place? A blur. That happens though with D.I.D. Someone else holds those memories.

But our event? Yeah, it didn’t leave a big enough impact for me to remember the exact date. But it did create an alter. And I still remember the entire night. Start.To.Finish. We fought, which happened a lot before that event. I decided to sleep on the couch. You were still incorrectly filled with rage. You came in the living room, demanded my phone. Tried to take it from me. Climbed on top of me. I’m trapped. Beat me.

It goes dark. I didn’t experience the rest. Brexx took over. But you put your hands on me. From that moment on, Brycen didn’t exist. Just Brexx. For three whole years. You never noticed the change. Not that you cared.

Three years later, I reconnected with those you took from me. I finally fronted after three years. I found joy in talking to her. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, I didn’t cheat. I never did. We just talked, caught up. Until I had enough.

I hadn’t lived with you fully in 3 years. Everything annoyed me. I realized…I stopped loving you that night. That event, was all it took. So I told you I was leaving.

You asked me if I was in love with my best friend. It didn’t matter to you how many times I told you we are just friends. You didn’t believe me in the end. Our running joke now is for me to say “I love you, just not in the way she thinks” We laugh about it. I had to fall in love with someone else in order to leave you? It couldn’t have anything to do with who you are as a person?

No, because I don’t have the ability to be in love with more than one person at one time. I’m definitely not currently in love with two people right now.

My leaving caused another alter creation. You recreated September 6th, without the physical aspect. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. To you, or me. Because I woke up, checked my surroundings, saw the loves (yes loves) of my life on that video call, and reminded myself that I am finally safe.

Your control is gone. I hope you are proud of yourself and what you have done. I know I am finally proud of myself, for leaving you.

[masons-tours]

https://www.tumblr.com/masons-tours/766438557762093056/im-not-american-either-and-my-anxiety-is-sky

I don't know why so much complaining Kamala is also a bad choice, she has no government plan what she wants to do is so absurd, all the lies this woman has told and are being revealed and lastly she has a group of artist supporting her who are on a child sex trafficking list 🤢.

A woman who mocks a guy for his religious beliefs, a woman who mocks God, a woman who pretends to say she came from a middle class family, a woman who lies saying she worked at Macdonald's, a woman who wants to end innocent lives and most of all she pretended live to be talking to a voter who she claimed had voted for her but it was a lie 😂.

SHe has 4 years in that government and they have done nothing, who assures them that if she was reelected she would also comply with it.

Trump is not in Santo but Kamala is the worst among all of them 🤷🏻‍♀️

Doesn’t matter what I say here because you have suckled at the teat of trump lies for so long you have an orange ring around your mouth and can’t even see the truth.

She was VP not president you dumbass.

Trump is a Rapist, he is a convicted felon, he and his children ripped of children’s charities, destroyed a woman’s right to choose and to have access to medical treatments for miscarriage or still birth, thinks he has aligned himself with Putin, Netanyah, Kim Jong and Xi Jingping but in actual fact he is just easy target for them to manipulate him, held what was essentially a clan rally in NYC, is endorsed by the KKK, called Diddy a close personal friend, was close personal friends with Epstein and visited the island multiple times, every general that worked during his first run has said he is a danger to the world and wouldn’t endorse him, leading economists said his economic plan would destroy the USA (which it already has as the his economic plan is the one they are currently under), he is going to put RFK the anti-vaccine brain worm having man who has been rejected by his Kennedy family in charge of healthcare, his VP is a man who repeatedly called him Hitler, tried to have his former VP killed by lynch mob, January 6th, has 6 children with 3 different women (one resulting from and affair), buried his ex wife in his golf course, stole secrets from the Whitehouse of showed them of to Saudi Arabia, locked up families in cages and took there children from them some who still haven’t been found as there was no paperwork, is going tax working class families but give billionaires major tax cuts, hasn’t paid his own taxes & finally is using the presidency to hide form being sent to jail for fraud and to not be prosecuted for his other crimes

But all you have is she maybe didn’t work at McDonald’s. You are stupid.

I don’t even feel sorry for you. When he enacts project 25 and your life becomes miserable the people I will have sympathy for is the ones who fought like hell to stop him

[grimmplacehq]

CHARACTER INFO:

Character name: Jae-Edmund Avery Age & Birthday: 25 & 6th august  Gender & Pronouns: trans Male, he/him  Occupation: Owner of a business that deals with Asian artefacts and herbs Blood Status: Pureblood Previous House: Slytherin Previous Affiliation: Death eater Face Claim: Woo Do-Hwan

Jae-Edmond is taken by Artie

  BIOGRAPHY:

  (tw: sadistic tendencies, hints at murder, prison and isolation)

  Jae-Edmund Avery was born into the family of sacred 28. His mother was estatic to have a baby girl. She has always dreamed of raising a girl into her perfect image. Having a ather who cared little about a daughter, wishing only for an heir to give his title to his mother would have managed to make him into her perfect doll if not the fact that Jae-Edmund Avery didn't feel like a girl at all. 

  He had screamed and kicked when a dress was pulled onto his body. Always wanting to be like his father, broad shouldered, tall, powerful, masculine. The little boy didn't truly understand why he was different from his dad. It was when he was finally around the age of 10 when he put his foot down and demanded that he was a boy. It cause his mother much grief to accept him like that but his father much liked the idea of a heir, so his transition was somewhat a transaction. Exchanging one parent who wished to mould him however they pleased with another one.

  thus the heir of Avery family came to go to hogwarts and be sorted into the house that was expected of him. The house of snakes, slytherin. Jae was told exactly who he should befriend, his father's friends had kids around his age, whose future was great, or so his father would say, Jae of course believed him and so he obediently befriended the needed kids. He took like duck to water when it came to his father's ideals. Purebloods are above all else and being from sacred 28 means he was extra special. Avery liked the idea of that. 

  His sadistic tendencies slowly grew stronger and more noticable. The type of humour he found amusing was cruel and chaotic, however his father was more than happy to encourage such acts. So the boy grew bolder with each year until he finally took the dark mark by the end of his school.

  He fought many people during the war, enjoyed being a soldier, putting his energy into something destructive. He had blood on his hands, it never truly bothered him really. He knew who he was from a young age and never ran from it, he wouldn't start to after war either. 

  Azkaban was hard on him. The walls around him seemed to shrink onto him. The coldness, dampness of the room, if he could even call it one, seemed to chill his bones, freeze his blood. At first he was able to handle all of this, the adrenaline in his blood, the constant presence of the threat right there, hovering all over the prison, in between the cell. He kept his eyes open, his wits sharp, his ears on the ready. But time ticked away far too slow in a place that even during the warmest days of the year barely had him seeing rays of the sunlight. He tried to keep track of days, somewhat. Deciding each time he fell asleep was the night and when he woke up was the day. Slowly, such calculations became unreliable, his body was so so tired, his blood suddenly had no adrenaline to supply him with, he slept longer, more often…or so he felt each time he opened his eyes from another nap. Yet it was part of a routine now. To keep track of each time he woke up. By the time he got out of that little pocket of hell he thought two years and four months had passed, he missed the mark by a lot. He was stuck there for a year and a half and he felt like someone who spent much longer in that cell. Even with his body weakened and his hands shaking, the desires that swirled inside him, simmered right under his skin, never died. Just like they were during the war. 

He misses it sometimes. The rush he got during fights, the manic glee when he heard screams, maybe he was broken beyond salvaging but Jae-Edmund Avery was a good actor if nothing else. So he kept his eyes ahead and forgot whatever lovely fever dream the war felt like to him, or pretended to forget at least. He tried to forget his cell, the cell that probably still called out his name. He was not that successful in that regard either. Trying to be the perfect little Lord just like his father wished him to be. He was strong and powerful and an Avery, Jae knew he would be able to handle it. He had to.

[thatprettybunny]

Based on this imagine

Katsuki came to consiousness in a fucking dumpster.

His head moaned and his core ached from where the villisn had zapped him. He ruffled his way out of the garbage, cursing whatever God decided to fuck with him today as he slipped a banana peel off his shoulder. At first his mind raced. Where was he? This Alleyway was vaguely familiar, but as of right now he couldnt place it from where he stood.

His thoughts ceased however when he heard a pained female groan from the trash can. Maki! His brain went into auto pilot. Being the ever so stressed man he was, he hurridley pulled her from the trash can, cursing himself for not remembering her sooner.

God he really was an asshole. Maki had been his official, unofficial girlfriend for months, how was she not his number one priority?

“Because you aren’t her’s” a small insecure voice rang in his ear and he fought to surpress it.

The truth is Katsuki had asked her out, he had wanted her to be his girlfriend. But as fate would have it she wasn’t looking for anything serious yet, or so she claimed.

However it did irk Katsuki that her sentiment for nothing serious only seemed to apply for the actual relationship status. So for the past few months he’s been buying her flowers, she’s been unofficially staying at his place, fuck she even came over for thanksgiving last month with his parents!

Maki groaned and Katsuki snapped back out of it.

“Can you walk?” He asked, holding her pressed against him incase she fell.

“Yeah,” she staggeredly spoke, “but can we please get out of this alleyway so I can stop smelling whatever it is shat over there?” She joked, pointing her perfectly sharp red nail at a pile of brown sludge not to far off.

Katsuki’s eyes lingered on the tip of her pointed nail, remembering how good they felt digging into his shoulder blade last night. He never did understand how she managed to be a prohero and have nice nails, but he really wasn’t complaining.

He grumbled some drawled out response about how shitty of a job animal shelters did before wrapping his arm around her waist and walking out of the alley like the perfect unofficial boyfriend he was.

But as soon as they exited the alley, something invisible and heavy metaphorically punched him in the gut. His hero agency.

The one he’d started six months ago, the one he’d been struggling to keep afloat in a mediocre one story office building.

It was…

Well for lack of better words it was huge. All modern glass and potted plants. Hell, the building had grown at leat 15 floors since yesterday.

Katsuki tried not to shit himself from disbelief as he glanced around, desperate to find anything that could make sense of it.

A billboard caught his eye. All giant and holographic where it said “OFFICIAL HERO RANKINGS AS OF DECEMBER 6th 20XX” in big catchy letters. And in an even brighter array was Katsuki, no, Dynamite plastered all over it, most notably next to the words ‘NUMBER ONE HERO’

Beside him he heard Maki ask him something; she sounded concerned, but Katsuki didn’t really register any of it. Instead his mind raced. Was this really the future? Was this not just some cruel unforgiving dream bestowed on him by that lame quirk bastard whod zapped him?

The revolving door to the hero agency swung open, drawing his gaze.

And maybe Katsuki wouldnt have registered it if the woman leaving hadn’t been wheeling an army green stroller through it. Maybe he wouldn’t have registered it if it wasn’t you.

His breathe caught in his throat.

You, Prohero Spikewring, dressed in a midi, floral yellow sundress, the chunkiest pair of pink platform heels and your gorgeous curly hair out and waving in the soft breeze as you laughed at what he hoped was a baby in the stroller.

He felt his jaw tick.

God he hadn’t seen you since his first and last attended hero gala . He remembers looking down at you that night. A soft velvet midnight blue dress that hugged you in the best possible ways. Sheer gloves and dramatic winged liner. And he didn’t need to see to know you wore a signature chunky shoe. You’d sat next to him at the bar and, presumably, asked the bartender for whatever he had. He couldn’t remember exactly what the drink was, probably some variation of whisky, but what he did recall was your tentative face and your almost immediate coughing fit. Your fingers, nails all chewed up and cuticles somehow perfect held firmly onto the counter a you laughed dryly.

“How do you drink that with such a straight face?” You moaned, a pained smile on your face.

Katsuki was amused.

He found his gaze dropping to the perky curve of you chest. Your dress was strapless, and Katsuki was taller than you; granting him a free but probably creepy glance at the soft, pale skin of your chest and the peak of a black lace bra. Katsuki was maybe too amused. He laughed at your pain before grabbing a drink menu and ordering you a ‘Dynamite Passion Blaster.” A drink he was sure tasted more of juice than alcohol and was filled with a shit ton of citrusy fruit.

You let out a happy sigh when you drank the fruity concoction and somehow started a soft flow of conversation.

The rest of the night was a blur. The year’s statistics were read, you asked him to dance with you and then as you both laughed (mostly you) and slowly swayed, the clock struck midnight and then Katsuki kissed you; and you kissed him back.

Katsuki didn’t ask for your number that night, hell he didn’t even take you home that night. How could he when he knew he would be on a plane for the next twelve hours flying to the United States for a work oppertunity the very next day.

That being said, in this timeline he hadnt seen you in over a decade. Yet.

Somehow he knew you instantly. He recalled back to when he stalked your instagram. All short skirts and high shoes. Your style had evolved since then, fuck youd aged since then, but Katsuki couldn’t help but wince as his heart ached when you reached down into the pram.

Itd been over ten years. Of course you had a baby. You probably had a husband, after all you were 36 now. Hell, you could have an entirely new life by now. Youd moved on since that day, and he fucking hated how the jelousy made him feel like he hadnt.

You reached into the stroller to pull out a giggling, chunky baby. The little child’s eyes were bright enough to decay a ruby and you both laughed like Katsuki’s heart wasn’t racing at the speed of sound.

It hurt. Even though you were only his sappy lil celebrity crush, somehow it hurt to watch you wholeheartedly love a baby that wasnt his. It hurt him to know there was someone out there who hadnt blown it with you. Someone out there who youd always love more than him.

Not that you ever loved him.

Now Katsuki’s nails dug into Maki’s ever so smooth waist.

Thats right, he still had Maki.

He was about to say something, maybe an apology when the swing door swung open again, and Katsuki himself, no, the real fucking Dynamite sauntered out. His shoulders impossibly broad and his hair impossibly spikier.

Katsuki felt like beating the shit out of him.

That is until his eyes lit up and he wrapped a large veined arm around your waist, giving you an invisible kiss on the neck and pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead. His baby. Meaning Katsuki’s baby with you.

Before he had time to process any of it he heard a faint analog clock ticking away in his ears, growing louder until another punch to his stomach came and he and Maki flew backwards into the pile of curious brown shit and losing consciousness.

Itd been months since that day he saw the future. Weeks since hed broke things off with Maki and days since he wondered if he should go out of his way to find you again. Unsurprisingly , he hadn’t come to a descion yet.

It’d been almost a year from that day, when Katsuki finally saw you again, and this time he didn’t let fear keep him away from you.

[angel-ixily]

The Story of Us

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

POV: First person

Fandom: Stranger Things

Warnings: Foul language, mentions of Steve and Nancy doing the deed, mentions of blood, mentions of puke, mentions of alcohol and drugs

Summary: The explanation of how Steve Harrington and Y/N ended up being a couple

It was 6th grade when I had first met Steve Harrington.

I was sitting at a table alone at lunch. I had just moved to Hawkins from Gary, and I had known nobody. Throughout the entire day, I didn't talk or even share a glance at anyone.

I felt like a total outcast. Hell, I was an outcast. But that's until a boy, around 5'2 had walked over casually and sat at my lunch table. His thick brown hair bouncing from how he had plopped down in the seat across from me. He had a smile on his face. I looked up at him slowly.

"The names Harrington," He paused for a moment, putting out his hand for me to shake. "Steve Harrington."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the start of a very, very long friendship ahead of us. And after that, we would begin to form a relationship. But let's not skip ahead of ourselves here. Let me share the story of how Steve and I began to fall in love with each other.

The summer of 1983. Our Junior year. Steve and I invited Carol, Tommy, Barbara, and Nancy; Steve's girlfriend at the time, to a party at his house. Nancy brought it amongst herself to invite her friend Barbara, who lets say, did not have a fun time at all.

We drank, swam, ate, had the time of our lives! Steve and I mocked Carol and Tommy's relationship! Tommy fought back by saying, "Oh yeah? And what about you two? You guys have been best friends for 5 years! There's no way the both of you haven't hooked up!"

As always, because we had been asked this question a million times before, Steve answered, "We're just friends." I answered, "Oh give it up Tommy! Steve has a girlfriend now! Cut it off with the jokes! And besides, what about that Jackie girl? Weren't you fucking around with her only a few days ago?" This caused Carol to give him an upset look and it didn't stop Nancy from giving me one of those looks. One of those looks that read, 'I'm done with the dating jokes between you two. He's mine.'

At the time, I would have gladly let her have him. He was my best friend! Have all the fun in the world that you desire with him! However, break his heart and you'd feel my wrath. But after a while, the thoughts of Nancy Wheeler would slowly fade from Steve's mind, only to be replaced with another girl. But again, we're getting ahead of ourselves.

After a while of splashing and messing around in the pool, we had all gotten out and decided to dry off in Steve's house. Well...not all of us. I had stayed next to Steve's pool, picking up some trash and the mess that they had all left behind. Only a moment later, Barbara came back out. I had been picking up a crushed beer can, and I had looked up to see her. The blood from when she cut her hand still dropping onto the floor. She sat on the edge of the pool.

"Just so you know, whatever Carol and Tommy said in the house that brought you back out here, it doesn't matter. Their opinions and thoughts don't matter at all. Tommy has a micro penis of a brain, and Carol's hair roots drag so deeply into her head that she only knows how to speak dumb. Stupidity is their nature. I guess that's why they’re perfect for each other." This caused Barbara to laugh. It was a sad laugh, though. We were quiet for a moment until she spoke.

"No. It's nothing they said. It's just that.. ever since Nancy began dating Steve, she's been different. She's acting different; Dressing different. Treating me different! She literally just told me to go home. Nancy's been my best friend for years and within a snap of a finger she changes because her boyfriend wants her to." Barbara stopped talking. She took a deep sigh. Her head hung low and her blood continuously dripping into the water. I bit my lip and walked over, sitting down next to her.

"I don't think that Steve wants her to change. If I'm going to be honest, Steve isn't as bad as people make him out to be. Yeah, he has his asshole moments, but he's not a terrible human being. If anything, he doesn't want Nancy to change at all. He started liking her because of who she was, not because of who he wants her to be. I think now that she's dating Steve, she wants to match up with their energy. She's changing because she feels like she needs to." I looked at Barb as I spoke. It took her a while, but she looked up at me.

"Why does she feel like she needs to change? She's been one way all her life. Why change now?" I just shrugged.

"I'm sorry but I don't know," I put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe that's something you should talk to Nancy about. I don't know her that well and I don't think she likes me very much, but if I do know something about her character, it's that she's a good person. She has a good heart and so do you." I winked at Barb before I stood up, dusting myself off.

"Now. I'm going to run inside and grab some antiseptic cream and a wraparound band-aid. Stay right there and I'll be back in a moment." I walked to Steve's back door and slid it open, walking in, and closing it behind me. I rushed up the stairs and walked into the bathroom, opening the closet. I reached for the first aid kit on the top shelf, opened it, and grabbed the band aid, some tape, and the antiseptic cream.

As I was exiting the bathroom, I began walking down the hallway, when I heard light groaning from Steve's bedroom. I cringed and hurried downstairs, humming "Break My Stride" to forget the torturous sounds I had heard. I walked to the back door and slid it open. I stepped out.

"I'm back with the stuff Barb. Your hand is going to be back in good shape in no ti-" I closed the door behind me and turned around. Barb was no longer there. I walked a little closer to the pool. "Barb? Barb are you there?" I looked around the scenery. The pool was still. Nothing seemed touched or out of order then it was when I had left. The deck was a little wetter than it had been before, but that was it. I pursed my lips and furrowed my eyebrows. "I..Barb I told you not to move."

And that's the entire reason why Steve and I grew closer. it's really sad to think that Barb's death was the reason that Steve and I would fall in love with each other, but it's true.

A bunch of dominoes fell after that. Nancy began hanging out with Jonathan Byers. She and Steve dated for another year or so before Steve broke up with her after Nancy told him that their relationship was bullshit. Hell, I was the one who sat here and talked through it with Steve. Let me tell you how that went!

Steve had speed walked out of the bathroom. I was talking to the new kid, Billy Hargrove, who had been lightly flirting with me. It stopped after Steve had whizzed right past me. I excused myself and followed after him.

"Steve! Steve!" It wasn't until we had been outside and close to his car was when I had enough of him ignoring me and I ran in front of him, stopping him. "Steve what happened in there? Where is Nancy?" I asked, looking at him right in the eyes. He huffed for a few seconds before he spoke.

"Nancy 'Little Miss Perfect' Wheeler isn't coming or even riding back home with me. She can stay behind and wait for her boyfriend Jonathan to waste his gas on her and drive her home." Steve began to walk past me again but I grabbed his arm. He stopped again.

"I'm going with you, right? I have no other way home." I told him. He whipped around, glaring daggers at me.

"You have no other way home, huh? What about the new King, Billy Hargrove? What about him? I'm sure he'd LOVE to take you home. I'm sure he'd also love to get a nice blowjob from you!" He yelled. I was taken aback, but I kept my head high.

"I don't know what Nancy said in there to you. I don't know what's gotten you so pissed off besides the fact that you spilled a drink all over her, but don't you ever take it out on me. This has nothing to do with me at all," I was stepping closer to him, pointing a finger at his face. "So, take a fucking breath and calm down before I make you. Billy and I talking at a high school party has nothing to do with your relationship problems." I told him. He looked me in the eyes. I could see his eyes become waterier. He faced away from me.

"Just get in the car. I'll explain it when we get to my house..." He mumbled.

The car ride there had been quiet. The radio was off, Steve and I weren't talking. The only sound heard was the engine of the car running. And then the keys jingling when Steve had parked the car in his driveway and turned off the ignition.

He had opened his door and gotten out. I proceeded to follow. He opened the gate to his backyard, and we walked in there together. He sat by the edge of the pool, not caring whether or not his shoes got wet. It was also the same place Barb had sat right before she died.

I was scared that if I looked away from Steve, he would disappear like she did, and I'd lose him forever. Just like Nancy had lost Barb forever. I didn't take my eyes off of him as I sat next to him by the pool, taking my heels off and dipping my feet into the water.

We were both quiet. Steve looked at the water, while I looked at him. All of this seeming so familiar.

"I'm sorry Y/N..." He said out of nowhere. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I'm sorry. For the way I treated you back there. I was just...I was so pissed. Nancy told me she didn't love me and that our relationship was bullshit. She talked about Barb's death and how it was our fault. I just... I saw you talking to Billy. You looked happy. I guess I walked past you because I wanted you to notice how upset I was. Well, you did and then I went off on you because you did exactly what I wanted you to do. I shouldn't have done that." He looked over to me and into my eyes. I stared right back at him.

"I understand. What Nancy said to you was heartbreaking. But you also have to realize that she was really, really drunk. People say stupid things when they're drunk. Things that they sometimes don't mean. Remember that one time that you got completely wasted and when I dropped you off at home you wouldn't stop rambling about how you loved me and that you wanted to be with me? How the only reason you started talking to me in the middle school was because you had the biggest crush on me and that you had always loved me? Yeah, people say stupid things." Steve raised his eyebrows for a moment before lowering them. He opened his mouth to say something, but he just shrugged.

"Yeah, but what Nancy was saying seemed so real. She's been acting weird and different for months. Sometimes when you're drunk, the truth spills out because the common sense isn't clicking. The decision making between wrong and right isn't communicating with the rest." Steve explained. I stared at him wide eyed.

"What?" He asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. It's just that...when you had joined that AP Psych class with me, you couldn't tell the different between the frontal lobe and the aorta of the heart. But here you are explaining how alcohol makes you lose connections of the brain. That's crazy, Harrington." I jokingly said. He chuckled. For what felt like the 300th time today, it was quiet.

"Yeah. I guess I've drank enough alcohol to just know from experience of how it messes with things." He said, looking back to the pool. I nodded, biting my lip. I hadn't realized I had glanced down from Steve, and I looked back up at him. It was as if it were my first time seeing him again in a new light. I didn't know what kind of light it was, though.

"So, when you told me you loved me a few months ago...was that true?" I asked. He looked at the pool before dragging his head to look at me.

"I uh...Ya know, like you said. You sometimes say crazy things when you're drunk." He joked. I laughed, causing him to laugh. He stopped laughing early, just looking at me. A smile playing at his lips.

I stopped laughing as well. looking at him again. For a moment, it felt like it was just us.

That was the first time that the connection between us blossomed into something different. Something new.

"Thanks for caring so much, Y/N." He mumbled.

"I'll be here anytime you need me, Steve." I replied.

As I've mentioned before, that was when something began to blossom between us. Although, it wasn't until Steve began working at Starcourt Mall was when the growing blossom finally bloomed.

Steve, Robin, and I had been captured and drugged by the Russians. Dustin and Erica had busted us out of the underground base and had brought us back into the normal floor of the mall. Instead of getting us out of the building, they brought us into the theater to watch some movie about flying cars and time travel. I was drugged. I don't remember it.

Dustin told us to stay put. Knowing Steve, Robin, and I...we most definitely did not stay put. We left almost immediately and ran to the fountain, enjoying the cold, crisp water. high off of our asses. After that we began to feel sick. We ran to the bathroom and I almost couldn't make it to the toilet to puke. I was in the really big stall. Steve was in the one next to me and Robin was in the one next to him.

I'll give you, my dear reader, the details.

We had finished puking first and it was just us sitting in the quiet. I had my head against the wall of the stall, my heart pounding and my throat hurting.

"Have you guys...ever been in love?" Robin asked. I sighed. Everyone knew what Steve was about to say. It was coming from a million miles away.

"Yeah. Nancy Wheeler," BINGO! I was right! But then again, when am I never right? Steve continued. "First semester senior year." I nodded against the stall.

"Knew that was coming." I spoke. Steve scoffed. Robin chuckled.

"Oh my god. She's such a priss." Robin complained.

"Myeh. Turns out not really." Steve announced to us. I leaned my head to where Steve was.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?" Robin asked. This question caught my attention. My heart felt heavy. It's as if I was expecting him to say yes. That yes never came.

"No." Steve answered. My heart relaxed. I didn't know that I was tense until I took a breath.

"Why not?" Robin asked. I straightened out my legs. I was interested in how Steve would answer this. He was quiet for a second before he began to talk.

"I guess it's because I found someone better for me. Heh it's crazy. Ever since I met Dustin he's been saying, "I know you like her. The feeling is somewhere within you. Somewhere you locked away because you were scared of rejection. I see how you guys look at each other and you can't just be friends. You found your Suzie." I stood still. The world seemed like it had stopped spinning. I couldn't move.

"Wait, who's Suzie?" Robin asked in a drunken tone.

"Some girl from camp. I guess his girlfriend." Steve breathed out. "To be honest with you I'm not 100% sure she's even real." Steve paused a moment. "But that's...that's not the point, it doesn't matter. The point is that this girl, ya know the one that I like.. It's somebody that I have known for what seems like forever. I picked her up everyday. I talk to her everyday. She's basically my best friend." I sat up straighter against the wall. My heart beating with every word he said. My brain thoughtless.

"And I don't even know why I never made a move on her. Maybe because Tommy H would have teased me, or we'd get a lot of "I told you so's." Steve began to face my side of the stall. "It's stupid...I mean. Dustin was right from the beginning. He saw right through me. I've been in love with this girl from the day I introduced myself. I found out that she was caring. She is so caring. She cared for me throughout all my stupid shit. I have never felt anything like this. She's so smart. She dragged me into 2 AP classes with her in Junior year. And she's loving. She's so loving and nurturing towards everything. She's been my best friend for 6 years and it took me this long to figure out how I felt for her all along." Steve stopped there. The only thing that could be heard was my heart beating. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth, yet nothing came out at all. I was stunned. Robin was quiet as well.

"Y/N?" Steve banged his hand against the stall barrier. I stared at the wall. "Did you just OD in there?" He asked. I snorted.

"Yeah no. I am very much still alive. I'm breathing." I informed him, taking a deep breath.

I heard some rustling, and then Steve slid under the stall He sat across from me.

"The floor is literally disgusting." I cringed.

"Yeah well I already got a buncha blood and puke on my shirt so," Steve and I stared at each other for a moment. We just stared. Trying to just take in the fact that it had taken us almost 6 years to figure out how we felt. "What do you think?" Steve asked.

"About?" Robin asked from the other stall. I giggled, looking down at the floor and then back up at him. Steve faced the stall leading to Robin's side.

"This girl." Steve responded.

"She sounds awesome." Robin complimented. Steve turned back towards me.

"She is awesome," He agreed. It's as if he was taking me in. "And what about the guy?" He added. It's as if Robin knew not to answer this question. Instead, he waited for my answer.

"I'm hoping that the drugs aren't messing with his brain and that he's thinking straight." I told him.

"Oh, I think he's thinking a lot clearer than usual." Steve spoke calmly. I felt butterflies in my stomach, and I wanted to scream.

"I'd hope so because I need him to be able to think clearly so all the words that I'm about to say will sink in." Steve nodded, sitting up straighter and fixing his posture. "I remember the day that you told me that you liked Nancy. You walked next door, walked right into my room, and just began to talk all about her. I told myself 'I'm happy for him' and 'I could care less about his relationships'. That was far from the truth. I told myself that because I forced myself to. I listened for hours and hours about how Nancy was your world and how she was so important to you. I remember being secretly jealous. And now I realize that it wasn't because I thought you would replace me with her; but because I liked you all along and I just didn't know." I felt tears coming to my eyes and I grabbed Steve's hand on the other side of the stall. He smiled a toothy grin.

"Dustin was right. Tommy, Carol, Nancy, Tina, everybody was right. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to realize. Steve Harrington, I've loved you all this time and I never even knew it until today. Isn't that crazy?" I asked him, a few tears slipping down. Steve scooted closer to me.

"No, it's not crazy. Wanna know what’s crazy? I knew I loved you the day that Nancy told me our relationship was bullshit. When we were by the pool together. You’d think that’s the last place I’d recognize my feelings for someone. But I remember just looking over at you.. and everything stopped. And then Dustin and the kids came along and they’d continuously ask us if we were together! They’d tell us they we should and that it’s obvious we liked each other. Hell, Dustin even brought you up on on train tracks when we were trying to capture Dart.” Steve brought up the train tracks and I pursed my lips and lifted an eyebrow.

“Wait Dustin mentioned me on the tracks?” I asked Steve curiously. Steve nodded.

“Yeah. When you went to go back to the car to get more meat he began talking about love or something. He asked me about you.” I waited for a few seconds for Steve to continue, but he never did. I figured he was leaving it there.

“And… what did you say?” I asked him. Steve finally continued the rest of the story.

“I told him that you weren’t like everyone. That you were different then Nancy, Tina, Carol, Chrissy, Sarah, basically all of them. You were the perfect type of girl to fall in love with. When Dustin asked me why I wasn’t with you, I didn’t know what to answer because I wanted to be with you… I just didn’t know how to approach it.” Steve mumbled the last part. I smiled.

“I know we’re in a really crazy scenario.. but after this, will you go on a date with me?” He asked. I smiled brighter.

“I will.” I agreed. Steve let go of my hand and came over to my side of the stall. He sat right next to me.

“Hi…” he mumbled.

“Hi.” I replied. Steve looked at my eyes for a moment before glancing down to my lips. I giggled. “If you’re gonna kiss me you better do it now.” I offered. Steve nodded and began to lean in. He was less than an inch away when Robin, who I forgot was here, spoke.

“If you guys start making out, I’m gonna go right back to the secret Russian base and have them murder me.” She said. I laughed and Steve sighed.

“Shut up, Robin.” He said. I hit his chest lightly.

“I like Robin. Be nice.” I ordered him. He smiled.

“Yeah I like her too.” He said, beginning to lean on again. I started leaning in as well. Our lips were literally right on each other’s when the door slammed open. We both tore away from each other, whipping our heads to face the door.

Dustin was in the stall doorway.

“What… the hell.”

[leafatlaw]

No no because you dont understand. The reason Jeff constanly fought with abed and troy was because they were unapogetically silly. Jeff as a kid had to grow up fast and mean. Life had hurt him sooo much that he turned into a monster(in his own words) in order to survive. And so when he sees Troy(who he proabbly sees as similar to him( good with the ladies and cool)) become happier along with Abed he resents them for it. Hes jealous. Hes a 40 year old who prides himself on needing no one at his absolute lowest. And here are two young and talented kids who love eachother and are happy, They are living examples of lofe being bad but not turning evil. And like Pierce wants their handshake, jeff wants their youth.

A main point of the show is Jeffs own fear over growing older. He fears hes wasted his life and is continuin to do so at Greendale. And hes not entirely wrong. But its that reget and anger that holds him abck form not wasting his life. Hes so focused on others being happy and his ld life that he ignores how good his life could be at Greendale. Hes so preocupied with trobed that he ignores those who will love him like the Dean or Britta. Its hos own self sabatodging behabior that has and continues to make him so miserable but he cant stop.

Going even further in this direction this can explain his preocupation with Annie as well(I just have Jeffannie). She, like trobed, is young and has her whole like ahead of her. However unlike trobed she also is truely bright and driven, in a way Jeff wishes he was. She literally has her whole life ahead of her, whoile he feels like his is ending(this desire for what he doesnt have is mirrored by Annie in the finale, with her wanting jeffs life expiernce).And in a fucked up way like annie wanting to use jeff to prove she is lovable, jeff wants her to prove he can be happy.

This envy that jeff expierces makes up for most of the conflict in the 5th and 6th season, with many of the epiodes resolving around jeff being afraid of getting old and blaming it on abed(GI JEff, the movie epsiode, and more) . Even in the finale Jeff is jealous of abed and Troy and Annie . They all got to leave greendale but he’s still stuck there. He’s trapped in a hell of his own making, but in order to leave he has to acknowledge his mistakes , but he can’t.

[literaila]

Space

spencer reid x reader 

warnings: none... well angst.. and shitty writing 

***

Long nights out with the rest of the team were always dreadful the next morning. 

But Y/N felt like this morning was one of the worst. 

She’d woken up with mascara running down her face, her joints stiff and cracking at any little movement. Her head was banging from the inside out, and if she focused enough she could feel her brain beating against her skull. 

And don't even get her started on Spencer. 

It had taken Y/N at least 10 minutes to get him to open his eyes. Although he wasn't an avid drinker and had only taken a couple of sips of wine, he seemed to be even more hungover than Y/N did. She cuddled up to him, leaving kisses down his cheeks and neck before he would even consider opening her eyes. 

So like the dutiful girlfriend she was, Y/N got up and started a pot of coffee for both of them, and then headed into the bathroom to grab some advil, which she had to force-feed to Spencer. 

And eventually, after the alarm clock started blaring for the 6th time, both of them finally started to get ready. 

Their dynamic for mornings like this was simple, Y/N always got to shower first, while Spencer fought to stay awake without yawning every 10 seconds, and then Y/N went to go make breakfast for the both of them, which they would eat in the car on the way to the BAU. 

And that particular morning no one seemed to be up for any sort of chit chat, barely even passing casualties back and forth before sitting down at their desks ready for a day of paperwork. They made sure to plan a night full of drinking the night before a day of paperwork. They weren't idiots all of the time. 

Though their good planning all went to waste when Hotch asked them to meet him in the conference room. 

Hangovers and serial killers it was. 

***

“Bobby Smith, 9 years old, vanished 48 hours ago from a residential area, where his mother Marlene Smith, claims to have dropped him off.” Garcia started handing each one of the team members a folder. You could hear the drowsiness in her voice, and because everyone felt the same, they all pretended to not notice. 

There was a brief silence while they all read their files before Derek startled them back to life. 

“48 hours and we’re just learning about it now?” 

Y/N carefully grabbed Spencer's hand under the table, rubbing up and down his forearm while reading her file. It was tough to keep it professional at work, but Y/N always managed to keep the touching as limited as she could. But the ache she felt when she wasn't touching Spencer spread through her muscles like angry wind just begging her to reach out to him. And so she touched him, she felt comforted by the little body heat she could feel from even just resting her, it was especially comforting when they were on a difficult case. It was a rare occasion when she managed to keep her hands off of him, but Y/N tried to keep it as platonic as she could, not wanting to make Spencer of their coworkers uncomfortable. 

Though as she read through her file, she could see the little inconspicuous movements Spencer made. She wondered if he was trying to keep himself awake or just felt restless, either way, she kept her hand on his. 

What she didn't see was the panicked almost annoyed glances Spencer was giving her hand, she didn't see the way he was leaning away from her, moving his chair slightly to the right as to distance himself from her. 

JJ did though, she watched with a frown on her face listening to Gracia explain what had happened to the little boy, but not moving her eyes off of Spencer and Y/N. She tried not to notice Spencer's body language and the clear physical contact going on under the table. 

“So she's not exactly on the shortlist for the mother of the year,” JJ said, still clearly looking at the couple, while neither of them noticed. 

And she didn't look away, even when Spencer looked up and added a few notes of statistics, and Hotch announced it was time to go. 

They all made moves to get up and go, watching Hotch walk out the door in a rush to get everything set up for them to leave. JJ grabbed Spencer before he could protest, dragging him into her office. The others watched in confusion before Derek finally said 

“Guess we aren't invited to the party.” as he walked to grab his go-bag. 

“It's probably something about the case, we better get going. Hotch seemed stressed.”

Y/N didn't seem confused by JJ and Spencer's scene, and let her mind run thinking about the case. 

“Y/N?” She heard Hotch call. 

He handed her a file and asked if she would bring it to Spencer- apparently it was something about the Mother he wanted him to look over- and because of the circles under his eyes, and the tired way his body was leaning she was quick to agree. 

Walking over to JJ’s office, she was about to knock when she heard

“I love her JJ, I really really do. Sometimes though- I just- want some space- like you know I don't like touching anyone anyway, and I just-” he sighed and Y/N could feel herself holding her breath. “I just want some more space. I’m not sure how to tell her though”. 

Y/N could feel the tears prick at her eyes, her stomach had fallen, taking the rest of her organs with it. At that moment it felt like the world was so silent she could hear her own heart beating. She could only think of all the times Spencer had seemed to pull away, thinking of the way she thought it was just an accident, that he was just restless, just needed to move a little. 

But no. 

He just didn't want her to touch him. 

Y/N heard JJ sigh a soft “Spence…” before she turned away, forgetting about the file she was supposed to give him, and walking to get her bag so she could get the hell out of the office.   

***

Finding Bobby's Mother dead was hard. It caused more confusion with the cause, and now the last known witness to Bobby had been murdered. The only good thing that had happened was the unsub letting one of the little boys go. But still, none of the team's questions had been answered.

Not touching Spencer was hard too. 

Y/N had never been self-conscious about her affliction to touch, she’d never been afraid to hug someone, or rest her hands on their shoulders while looking at them. In fact, she couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't like touching people, even as a kid it was clear she was a touchy-feely sort of person, but no one had ever wanted her to stop.

Spencer's germaphobic tendencies didn't go unnoticed by Y/N, when they’d first met he’d made it a point not to shake her hand, but as they got more comfortable with each other that changed. He didn't seem to mind her running her hands up and down her arms, or resting her hand on his cheek, or hugging him from behind any chance she got. She thought she was just special, that Spencer loved her so much that he didn't mind touching her, that there was nothing gross about sharing germs with someone that he was infatuated with. 

Hearing that she was wrong was deafening. 

Although she knew she was probably blowing things out of proportion, it felt like she’d been lied to for the last 2 years she and Spencer had been together. The guilt she felt just knowing she was making him uncomfortable by just being herself was insane. 

And she couldn't help but feel like she had no option but to change it all. 

So she didn't touch him, not on the plane, where usually they would share the couch while looking over the case once again with the team. She didn't touch him when he passed her in the hallway when they were sitting next to each other in a rental car when they walked to the hotel room when they had stopped to grab coffee the next morning. She didn't touch him at all. 

It was killing her. 

Touch was such a frequent thing for her, such a necessity and she’d never even realized it. Not touching him all the time was swallowing her whole, and filling her with doubt and insecurities that threatened to take over her mind. Anytime she wasn't working, wasn't helping out, wasn't thinking, his voice would come back, loud and clear, asking her for space. Nothing would get rid of the fear that she was too clingy, that she was just too much. 

It was hard to look at him without worrying if he actually hated her love if he was starting to realize she was just too much for him. Just a couple of sentences could bring back insecurities that weren't gone apparently, just lost, insecurities that haven't been found since the beginning of their relationship when everything was still new. Y/N thought she’d moved past them. 

But she hadn't. And now she was avoiding her boyfriend. 

They had both noticed the distance, the wall that separated them. Spencer didn't understand it at all, he didn't know if something had happened or if he had done something, and he couldn't find the courage to ask. Y/N didn't want him to know. She didn't want him to feel guilty. She tried to ignore it, the constant barrier between them, but there was always a tension in the room. 

But this was work, and a boy's life was at risk. Relationship problems were the least of anyone's worries. 

Y/N and Spencer were stuck in the tiny conference room they had given the team at the police station, both of them going over files, although Spencer was obviously doing most of the work. Y/N could feel her eyes starting to fall, it wasn't technically that late, but paired with the insomnia that kept her up at night and the exhausting day she had and even 6 o’clock would seem late to anyone. 

It’d been an uncomfortable hour of silence and reading when Spencer finally spoke up, 

“Is something wrong?” Y/N could feel him looking at her, leaning his head down as if to make eye contact, but all she could feel was the heat coming off his body, the comfortable way his hand would feel in hers, and the hug that she so desperately needed. Eye contact wasn't enough, would never be enough, so she didn't look up.

A couple of days ago they would have been sitting almost on each other's laps, while reading, pointing out small details they noticed and helping each other. A couple of days ago Y/N wouldn't feel sad at the sound of Spencer's voice, and she would have looked up. 

A couple of days ago seemed like a dream. 

She could hear Spencer sigh and put down the paper he was holding. “Y/N?” He came around and put his hand on her shoulder, and her breath caught. “Is there something wrong?” He asked again quietly. 

A million different answers flashed in her head “Yes Spencer I’ve found out that you don't actually like me touching you and I don't know any way to cope with that.” or “I feel so incredibly guilty that I’ve been forcing you to deal with something that you don't like, and I feel even worse that I didn't notice it.” or “I just want a hug.”

But none of those thoughts came out of her mouth, what came out instead was “Yes Spencer! A little boy is missing and none of us have any fucking clue how to find him!”, quickly she pulled away from his hand, and forcefully grabbed her bag before saying “I’m gonna go call Hotch” and left slamming the door behind her. 

She didn't look back to see the sad look on Spencer's face. 

***

Bobby was alive.

And so were the two other women the unsub had taken. 

They were alive.

And they had the rest of their lives to live. 

The unsub was off to jail, where hopefully he could get over his bitter feelings towards his mother. Where hopefully he wouldn't hurt anyone else. 

Bobby had a long walk ahead of him, with his mother gone, murdered by the same man that was supposed to be helping Bobby. The grief was going to hurt, he would always have a missing piece, and a difficult story to share. For the rest of his life. 

But he was alive. 

***

 Going home to their small apartment was a relief. For both of them.

Y/N couldn't help but hope for some sleep. Just anything that would make her feel better. She couldn't shake the devastating feeling of grief that was stuck pounding in her chest. 

As much as she tried she couldn't convince her mind to get rid of the cloud of sadness covering it. She figured a good night's sleep would help remove some of that. 

The clashing colors and filled to the top bookshelves in the apartment made her feel at home, and she tried to imagine them as if they were a hug that was keeping her safe and warm.

Silence filled the apartment, both of them not saying anything, and quickly moving into different rooms. Y/N went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. She was going to let Spencer have as much space as she could give him before she went to bed. 

They hadn't talked on the plane again, Y/N put as much distance between them on the couch as she could, and Spencer hasn't made any more moves to touch her since the scene in the conference room. Maybe he had taken the hint, or maybe he just didn't want to touch her. Y/N couldn't decide which one it was. 

“Y/N?” Spencer said slowly from the other room, almost as if he was questioning if she was still there. 

“Yeah?” she answered back in almost a whisper, which was fine for the acoustics of their small home. 

The acoustics that couldn't mask the sigh she heard come from the man in the other room before there was the distinct question of “can you come here?”. 

Y/N felt stupid being uncomfortable walking into her own room, but the tension between them had only grown in the past few days, and she really didn't want to be walking into another night of a clod bed and an unwavering feeling of doubt. 

“Do you need something Spence?” Y/N could hear the wheels of her boyfriend's brain turning from across the room. She had not directly addressed him in days. It was a surprise to both of them. 

“We need to talk.” The four words coming out of her boyfriend's mouth stopped her heart. Her brain was filled with what he had told JJ “I just need space.” What if he was breaking up with her? What if the space she was trying to give him wasn't enough? What if he needed so much space that even being in the same house as her was too much? What if she was still too much for him even when she was touching him?

Spencer cleared his throat and took a few steps toward her, moving closer to the door. “That sounded wrong I.. I didn't mean for it to sound like that- I just..” He stopped and she wondered why the words were so hard for him to get out? She wondered if this was really it. If the love of her life was going to leave. “What's going on with you?”

Now that, that surprised her. 

“W- what?” 

“Your face, I- I can see there's something wrong and I thought-'' Spencer's voice went up with his words, and Y/N could feel the emotion behind them. “ god I thought it was just the case because you seemed fine before, and that's what you told me. That's what you said!” his eyes were on her, watching her stare at the floor with such intensity clearly trying to voice the question in his voice. “I thought it was just the case? I thought it was just hard on you but you still look so.. So sad and you won't even look at me and just what is going on because there has to be something that I missed this- this didn't just happen?” His breath caught and all Y/N could do was stare at the floor and feel small. 

She felt so small. 

“N-” she cleared her throat trying to mask her voice into something stronger, “Nothing happened Spence.” 

“Then why won't you look at me?” He demanded still trying to get her to look up, still trying to get her to just look at him. 

“I- '' there were so many questions running through her head like how did they get there? How did any of this happen? How could she feel so miserable? Why couldn't she just look at him? 

“You haven't look at me, you haven't talked to me, you haven't even brushed your arm against mine once in the past week! I know something happened, and I don't know if I did something wrong? But I just want you to talk to me!”

The emotion coming from Spencer's voice surprised Y/N, but not as much as his words. He had actually noticed all of that? She felt so overwhelmed, and she had no idea how to answer him, how to explain everything. Tears were pricking at her eyes, and all she wanted to do was run away from him, from all the problems. She just wanted to run away.

Spencer took a deep breath and moved even closer to Y/N, standing right in front of her, ducking his head down to try to meet her eyes. “Y/N...we’re supposed to talk to each other. That's what couples do, they talk. I just want you to talk to me.” The desperation in his voice was obvious, but at that moment all Y/N could hear was ridiculing, and she felt like a child again, getting told what to do. And it was too much. 

She looked up. 

“That's what I thought Spencer! We’re supposed to talk to each other! So why couldn't you just tell me that you ‘needed space’?!?” The mocking was clear in her voice, and even though she saw the shocked look on her boyfriend's face she couldn't stop now. She moved her hands to wipe her tears and started again, “why couldn't you just tell me that I’m too much? Why did I have to find out by you talking to JJ?! God, I’m just trying to give you space but I’m not very good at it, so excuse me if I’m acting strange!”. 

Suddenly the mood in the room changed. Spencer finally understood, and Y/N felt relieved having her thoughts out in the open. Even though she was still terrified of what was going to happen, just expressing her feelings removed a big weight off of her chest. 

“Y/N..” 

“No! No. Its- it's fine. I’m sorry for yelling at you I’m just-” she felt small again, like all the courage she had was used when she had yelled at him. “I- maybe I’ll go see if Emily's okay with me crashing with her tonight- I just- I just have to get my stuff I’ll-” Y/N had turned around to go, ready to accept defeat when she felt the hands on her waist pulling her back. “Spence it's fine-”

���No, it's not fine.” He said harshly and insistently. He tried to get her to turn around, but she was frozen to her spot. “Will you please just look at me?” 

It took a few moments but hearing the desperation in his voice, Y/N finally let him turn her around. They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them stuck on the eyes they hadn't actually seen in days. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 

“I'm so so sorry.” The confusion must have been clear on his girlfriend's face because he continued, “I can't believe you could ever think I needed space from you, I can't believe I could ever believe I needed space from you.” There was guilt laced with frustration in his voice, and Y/N couldn't bring herself to speak. 

Spencer was gentle while removing his hands from her waist, and instead placing them on her face, gently lifting her chin so that she couldn't look away. It was strange to be so intimate after not touching him for days. But the relief coming from Y/N’s body was clear, just a little touch removed all the ache she’d been feeling for days.

“I was wrong.” Spencer started again, the sentence unusual for someone as smart as him. “I don't need space, I just need you. I just need you Y/N.” his eyes were pleading with hers instant, and she hoped hers were telling him it was alright. “It was unbearable not touching you. I’ve felt so closed in, claustrophobic, these past couple of weeks and I thought I was because of you, but it wasn't, you touching me was the only thing holding me together honestly.” 

Y/N felt more tears leave her, this time with happiness. Hearing that she could touch Spencer again flooded her body with the light she’d been missing. 

“I'm so sorry you heard me talking. I’m so sorry I was talking in the first place. I never really know when to keep my mouth shut.” They both laughed at his words. The tension was gone, and instead, a bliss overcame them, the distance was so exhausting for both of them, touching each other was like caffeine that made their skin buzz. 

“I love you, Spencer. I'm sorry for being so difficult.” He frowned at Y/N’s words, moving his thumbs slowly on her cheeks, and leaning down to kiss her. 

It was soft and slow, almost like Spencer was trying to tell her how much he loved her, and how much he loved being with her through a kiss. And it reminded Y/N of their first kiss, so much questioning but still deeper. So she kissed him and tried to display the same feelings for him. 

“You aren't going anywhere okay?” Spencer said breaking the kiss, a small smile resting on his face, a smile Y/N hadn't seen in days.

She pecked his lips and grinned at him, “just hold me okay?”.

And they were going to be okay. They hadn't talked everything out, but they were both exhausted, both barely awake. They would leave it for the night, and they would sleep peacefully in each others arms. Never again would space be included in the language they were building together. 

pt. 2 here

[stormcrow513]

@lurelurk , @graveyarddirt​​ , @cardenvondraken​, @a-witch-named-crow​, @blackthornwren​, 

Wanted to let you all know that Shy lost her fight today, she started going on us yesterday couldn’t eat and had a hard time holding her head up but after i picked her up to hold her she started forcing her head up and trying to rallly herself so i laid her down and tired to leave her to rest, she continued to get worse this mouning and when she looked like she might be going i sat down and sat her in my lap but again she started pulling her head up and rallying , i’d already suspected she might not let go with me in the room, i just kept hoping i didn’t want her to go alone, but i knew then I needed to respect what she needed from me so I mademyself go take a nao, with as little sleep i got yesterday i knoced right out, and when i got up and checked on her she was gone.

I just wanted to let you all know and to thank you once more for your knidness and help, she never seemed to be in much pain, so I think our combined efforts kept her as comfortable as she could be,

Aloplogies to anyone i may have forgot to tag.

I’ll check in later for any measages in my activity but i don’t want to be on her to much I know I’m gonna see shit about the Queen for the next bit and i could not careless one way or the other about it and the drma thats likely to spriung up with the people celebrating and people getting pissed at that and yada fucking yada, i don’t think i woulda wanted to see my dash during this on a good day, and this was already a bad week, the woman who raised my ma s death aniversary was the 6th my sister who passed bday is the 7th and now today

Shy pretty baby gril you fought harder to stay with me then any animal before you and considering the absolute hell my animals give death that sure is saying somthing, I’m fairly certain deaths had to drag them all my tail or scruff while they screamed “But you don’t understand she needs me she can’t take care of herself”

Shy 2008 - September 8th 2022 you beat your brother by 3 years bet your mocking him ruthlessly for it right now

wish you could’ve seen her eyes in person the crmra always made em yellowis but she had such pretty green eyes with flecks of yellow