#i’ve already seen like two spoilers
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cable-salamdr · 6 months ago
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And I do beg everyone to be mindful of the fact that some people cannot or do not want to watch the new episodes, and to tag any post with ‘ninjago spoilers’ or anything similar so that the rest of us can watch it in our own time.
And, also, to not spoil things in your tag reblogs. I understand your excitement, and especially when things such as art or takes are accurate and you want to tell op, please respect it if they said that they don’t want to be spoilered. Thank you, that’s all.
Edit: Yes you can rb this to let other people know you want to avoid spoilers.
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zabala0z · 5 months ago
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Welcome to “New Fan consistently listens to TMA S2 while playing Minecraft and dying by a skeleton” I’m your host: the new fan. Or I dunno if I’m considered a new fan since I’m listening to s2 but I guess the podcast was made in 2016 and I finally got to it circa 2024. Anyways! Gotta get to it! Post too long already!
MAG 57: Personal Space
Eughhh this one is like top 5 TMA EPS of creeping me out. Lot of stuff here so I’m gonna talk a while. For example, Conrad Lukas was in charge of the project and the Lukas family was shown in Alone and Boatswain Call. Speaking of the latter, Nathaniel Lukas gave an investment to the project. He was the captain of that ship in MAG 33. Pinnacle Aerospsce is majority owned by the Fairchild family WHO CANNOT STAY OUT OF PEOPLES BUSINESS 💀
Carter, the guy who did the project, also had that feeling of being utterly alone in this damn void. He said the line between reality and dreaming was blurred, finding himself in space, a graveyard or an empty ocean. The latter two I think are a reference to Alone and High Pressure respectively which all have the theme of “loneliness, stranded, etc” in common.
The whole “being alone in a large empty space” has been a pattern. The Fairchild family features in that theme and even the Lukas family in Alone. Optic Solutions Limited is based in Norway but the only connection I can figure out is that Jurgen Leitner was from Norway but maybe there was something I missed. Anyways that’s it. God 😭
Nothing much on MAG 58: Rations. Another kind of emphasis on meat. I felt so bad for the unknown lady :( (EDIT 9/2: Benjamin Carlisle shares the same last name as Toby Carlisle and both have very prominent meat themes. God.)
MAG 59: Recluse
Oh boy Raymond Fielding. From what I heard before, I thought he was a good guy since like y’know he took in troubled kids but noooo. He seems to be like the same thing as that woman from Children of the Night. Creepy spider thing. Also; that damn table. Now we finally know what happened to the middle of the table, like the square. Also the apple; Same apple Evo found in burned out. Even described the same. Agnes also, in my theory, a good person because she kissed Ronald’s cheek before he left and then was persuaded to go down to the study where his cheek started burning and snapped him out of it. I think she’s good. I dunno what her deal is but still.
Also, again, the table. It’s definitely the same table. How did Graham find it? He said he bought it in a second hand shop in MAG 3. Did Ray donate it after the events? Did the house burn down but the table still survived? Like god. How did the middle part of the table end up under the tree? With the apple? I have so many questions.
MAG 60: The Observer Effect
Another eye theme. Not many connections but I’m assuming she wanted to blow up the Magnus institute with those barrels of petrol. Maybe she found out something her brother was involved in which she blamed the institute for. I think he didn’t die of a stroke because no one ever dies of natural causes, I mean come on.
Also. Jon getting an intervention is the funniest thing ever. Like he was like before “they’re avoiding me and giving me fruitful glances, they’re up to something” like my dude, they are worried about you 💀
“Yeah sorry if I’ve been distant”
“You literally watch my house”
“You rummaged through my desk”
“You said I was lying about a murder”
I’m literally cackling. They’re not even wrong, Jon is going a little cray cray from all this. He needs an emotional support cat I think.
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every-eye-evermore · 1 year ago
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oops! I read three books in a few hours!
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6kate1bishop6 · 9 months ago
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started reading the foxhole court to see what all the fuss was about i guess ill see yall in four books time
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captainswan618 · 3 months ago
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@enokitaki
she was at the club. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that she was at the club.
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faynthearted · 15 hours ago
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mmm I finally made it to season two of arcane and holy shit
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nebulaafterdark · 7 months ago
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The Rats
Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.
18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS
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“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.
“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.
“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.
The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.
“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.
“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.
“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”
“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”
Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”
Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”
Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”
Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”
“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.
Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.
“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”
Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.
“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”
“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”
“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”
“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.
“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”
“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”
“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.
Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.
“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.
His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.
“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.
“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”
“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.
“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.
“Did they listen?”
“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”
“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”
“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”
“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”
“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.
“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”
“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”
“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”
“What would you have me do?”
Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”
“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.
The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.
“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.
The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”
“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”
“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”
“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”
Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.
“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”
Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.
Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you.”
“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”
Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.
“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.
She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.
Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”
Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”
He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.
Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.
“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.
The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.
Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”
The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.
“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.
“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”
“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”
“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”
“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.
“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”
The men look to each other, undecided.
“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.
————————————————————————-
Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”
Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”
The boy? “My boy?”
Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”
Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”
“They took her instead.”
“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”
“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.
Part 2
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alistreinn · 1 year ago
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Some good omens fanart in light of the second season coming out and giving me a big warm hug while also stabbing me in the back simultaneously
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flaggermuser · 7 months ago
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When You Loved Me
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1,209 words || Fluff, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma ||
Inspired by the idea that at least one doctor would have formed an attachment.
Thank you to @bisexualhomelander for being my beta
They're nearly all dead, there's just one loose end that Homelander needs to tie up.
So he stands outside the unassuming house, ready to cross the final name off his list, which he found in an old abandoned file documenting his ‘development’.
It was a stroke of luck that he found you - it seemed as if Vogelbaum scrubbed you from all official records.
Determined to finish what he's started, he knocks on your door and waits impatiently, ready to strike you down where you stand.
“I’m coming!”
He freezes, his entire body tensing up as your voice unlocks memories from his time in the lab, ones buried deep somewhere at the back of his mind.
A frightened and hurt little boy being held, being comforted after the incinerator and the other horrible forms of torture he was subjected to.
“Shhh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here. Shall we read another story?”
The door slowly opens and there you are. 
Now that he's seen your face, the memories are more vivid. There’s still that kindness in your eyes, the one he saw every night before he went to sleep. 
At least, for a few months before you disappeared.
“Hello, John.” Your smile is still as warm as he remembers. “My, how you’ve grown. Come in, come in!”
With trepidation, he slowly enters, unsure of what he’ll find. It’s homely, filled with curiosities and everything he’s ever associated with a true American home. As he follows you into your living room, he notices some of the pictures on the wall with you and your former colleagues at Vought, some of whom he’s already killed.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“A glass of milk would be nice,” he replies, trying his best to smile while conflicting thoughts swirl in his mind.
He was so convinced that you were like the others that had you not spoken, he would have killed you the moment you opened the door.
“Well take a seat, I’ll be right back.”
He takes a seat on your couch, hands in his lap, looking around the room again. That’s when he notices the mantelpiece, covered in photos and newspaper clippings, all in ornate frames.
Not of your family - of him. They’re all of him.
Taking pride of place in the middle of the mantelpiece is a picture from several years ago.
“Don't worry John, it's just a camera. All I'm going to do is take a picture of just the two of us. I promise it won't hurt.”
He's sat on your lap, your arms around him, holding him tightly, protectively, a smile on your face.
He’s smiling too. He’s happy. He’s with you.
They took you from me.
“Here we go,” your return snaps him back to reality, his eyes softening as he notices the glass of milk in your hand and a plate of cookies in your other, settling it down on the coffee table in front of him.
It’s such a sweet gesture.
You take a seat in a nearby armchair, “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”
After all these years, you’re still this beacon of absolute kindness.
“Do I call you John or Homelander?”
“John.”
How did I forget how lovingly you said my name? How did I forget you?
“I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so well. And look at you, you’re The Homelander! Leader of the Seven!”
His lower lip quivers, trying to keep himself together but it’s proving harder. Your praise comes from a place of pure love, something he’s never experienced or at least, he can’t remember experiencing.
“I see you’ve noticed the mantel. I know I must seem mad but I’ve been following your progress.”
You cared about me, you care about me, it’s all genuine.
“You were so young when I last saw you, with that lovely little smile.”
You reach out to take his hand but he pulls away, only so he can take off his glove. It looks so small in his, he knows if he squeezes just a little, all your bones would be crushed to dust.
But he won't.
“The things we did. Oh John, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I didn’t do anything to save you. I should've stood up to Vogelbaum, I should've protected you."
Saved him, protected him - the regret is written all over your face.
They regretted their actions too, only after he reminded them. Then they apologised but it was too late for them, maybe it’s still too late for you. 
He squeezes your hand, trying to comfort you. 
“You know, I think about you every day. I wanted to reach out but I figured Vogelbaum would have any attempt at contact blocked, especially from me. All because I chose to be human.”
Human. They were human too and they tortured me.
It’s clear that is a sore subject for you, nowhere near as painful for him but the fact it makes you sad somehow makes him feel better. It shows that you cared.
“They fired me for ‘interfering with the experiment’ but how could I not?! You were scared, you were crying and they left you all alone in that horrid room.”
The bad room.
“I couldn’t just leave you there to cry yourself to sleep. So I volunteered to take the night shift. Do you remember… remember the first time?”
His jaw tightens, desperately searching his mind for even the tiniest hint of a recollection yet all of the torment he was subjected to has buried everything deeper. 
“You were terrified that I was going to hurt you, your eyes glowed red and you trembled. I knew you didn’t want to hurt me but you would if you had to.”
You understood.
“It took you a few minutes to realise I wouldn’t hurt you - I think it was the books under my arm that convinced you I wasn’t a threat.”
A single flash - “Would you like me to read you a story?”
“I sat down on your bed, you sat on my lap and we read story, after story, after story. Until you didn’t want me to read anymore, you just wanted me to hold you. So I did exactly that.”
He desperately wants to remember, he needs to remember. 
“Then Vogelbaum found out, I must have forgotten to turn the cameras off and I was removed from the project. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve marched right back in there and demanded to take you. But I didn’t.”
But you’re here now. They’re all dead but you’re still here.
“I forgive you,” it slips out of his mouth, however, this time it’s heartfelt. He means this without malice.
You’re the parent he’d always wanted, living in a house he always dreamed of, serving him milk and cookies like he’s still that young boy you cared about.
Maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe there could be something here, born from the ashes of your past sin and his trauma.
Sniffling, you wipe away your tears, tightening your grip on his hand. When the smile returns, it’s affectionate and all for him.
“I want you to know, John. I need you to know, that you’ll always have a place here and in my heart."
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adieutristana · 20 days ago
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Well, reader and Jinx matching rings (maybe even wedding rings), and when Caitlin shoots Jinx's finger, she destroys this ring. Jinx’s honest reaction?
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of course! thank you for the request <3
i decided to make them promise rings since she lost her middle finger. i hope that’s alright!
summary; jinx’s promise ring being destroyed, and fem!reader comforting her after the fact.
characters included; jinx
tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, mentions of poor mental health, medical talk ig? (patching up), s2 spoilers
men dni.
you’re sat in jinx’s hideout watching her tinker away with… something. a new type of explosive she’s experimenting with, she says. something that only requires one hexcrystal instead of two or three, since she can’t keep using so many. she’s unceremoniously hunched over the workbench, goggles over her eyes as she messes with the piece of scrap metal in her hand.
“having fun?”
you ask, sitting back in the chair she got you.
“mm… this is more difficult than i thought it would be. who knew this could be so challenging? but i like a challenge.”
she smirks to herself, not taking her eyes off of her project.
“well, you’ve never let ‘difficult’ stop you. you’re a right genius.”
“oh, stop. you’re biased!”
she teases, but she’s got the lightest rouge dusting her cheeks. got her. your gaze continues to follow your girlfriend, the way she moves so freely and carelessly. getting her face impossibly close to power tools, using her nails to clean up dirt, teeth capturing her bottom lip when she’s particularly stumped.
“alright! that’s enough for right now.”
she proclaims, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.
“already?” it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since you asked her how she was doing.
“yeah! besides, i’ve got something for ‘ya.”
jinx springs up from her seat and skitters over to yours, quickly turning it around. you hear cheerful humming from behind you as she shuffles through piles of belongings, clearly looking for something.
"a-ha!"
she spins you back around, both hands on your seat and quickly rises. she's got something clasped in her left hand, but won't reveal it, not yet.
"what's that?"
"you have to be patient, toots! i've got a speech prepared, don't distract me!"
a speech? jinx never gave speeches. was she breaking up with you? so many thoughts began swirling through your mind as your palms began to sweat, gripping the chair- and then jinx revealed what she was hiding. a wooden box. a... ring box?
"isn't it a little soon to be getting engaged, jinx?"
you chuckle dryly, looking up at your girlfriend. she playfully rolls her eyes, and shakes her head, blue bang swaying.
"yes it is, that's why we're not getting engaged."
she clears her throat.
"not yet."
she turns her attention back to the box, and she opens it. inside lays a thick silver ring, with a circular blue gem in the middle. it looked eerily similar to a hexcrystal- but carved into a gemstone. 'JINX' is shakily engraved on the inside, something she undoubtedly did herself.
"this is a promise ring. i've been working on it for a while, and well... it's kind of stupid." she looks off to the side, sheepishly. "but this is me promising myself to you. to show you that i'm serious about this, ya know?"
you look over the ring for a moment, taking it in for all that it is. it's obviously unprofessional, the metal is a bit dull, and the shape isn't precise. but god dammit if it isn't the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. you glance back to your girlfriend, noticing her observing you- likely for any signs of disapproval. poor girl. as much as jinx had improved since meeting you, she still had the habit of expecting the worst. you didn't think that part would ever go away.
"jinx, it's beautiful. i- you made this?"
you ask, your eyes flickering back to the ring she's holding out. noticing how her grip is becoming a bit less stable.
"with my own two hands."
you chuckle, giving her a little grin.
"well? come on, put it on."
jinx doesn't need to be told twice. she gently takes hold of your left hand, removing the ring from the box and slowly slipping it onto your finger.
"there! it's on your middle finger, so your ring finger is open for the real thing."
not an ‘i do,’ but an ‘i will.’
you hold your hand up to the light, admiring how the ring catches it, before leaning forward to press a flurry of kisses to jinx's face.
"ah- hey! stop, you goof!"
she laughs, arms coming to wrap around you as a fit of giggles erupts from her.
"nope! i get to do this!"
it's not a week later when you arrive to jinx's hideout with a promise ring of your own to give her. a thick gold band to contrast the silver jinx had given you, with a rose quartz to accompany your own hexcrystal. pink and blue… she had a theme going, didn't she?
it wasn't handmade, but held the same sentimental value. you weren't as handy as jinx, and you'd learned to accept that a while ago. you had strengths in other areas, one of them being finding perfect gifts. it didn't take you long to find a jeweler in piltover who had exactly what you needed.
"oh, my god- you didn't have to do this."
she gasps, rosy eyes blown wide. both hands are on her cheeks as jinx gently approaches the open box in your hand.
"you promised yourself to me, didn't you? this is my promise to you."
jinx lets you put the ring onto her own left middle finger, her eyes never leaving your face. watching you so intently, she can feel her heart fluttering in her chest. what did she do to deserve you exactly? she could never quite figure it out, but that doesn't matter right now. you glance back up at her, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"i… you're too good to me, toots. really."
"i am not. i love you, remember?"
"mm… i love you too. i still think you're too good to me, though."
you let out a low chuckle.
"c'mere."
you bring the girl into your arms, tilting her chin with your index finger to gently bring her closer to you. pressing your lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss.
oh- and of course, your name is engraved on the inside of the ring.
✧.*
you're posted at your girlfriend's hideout, going over notes in preparation for an exam. it's nerve wracking, sure, but the odd tranquility of jinx's desk is useful in its own way.
jinx swings open the door to the hideout, and as soon as she steps onto the panel of the wind turbine supporting her hideout, you can tell she's in hysterics.
the girl is wailing. she's pacing back and forth, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. but most importantly, her hand is gushing blood. you immediately drop your notes, papers scattering across the desk to rush over to your girlfriend.
"jinx? jinx?! what the hell happened, oh my god..."
you kneel down in front of jinx, taking her hand to examine it. her middle left finger is completely gone, blood rushing out from the wound. it seems to be a clean cut, at least, you won't have to deal with any extra bits to clean up.
"the ring, the ring, it's gone-"
she sobs, a hiccup following and her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. you gasp, looking up at jinx, then back down at her finger.
"jinx, seriously? you just lost your finger and you're worried about a damn ring?!"
you breathe out, exasperation and worry weighing heavy on your voice.
"the ring is important! it's- it's our promise!"
she cries, hanging her head low. jinx is so ashamed, it hurts your heart to see. you let go of her hand and frantically sweep along her workbench for anything. you knew you had a first aid kit somewhere, you'd gotten it after seeing jinx patch herself up in a way that would make any doctor shiver. but god damn it, where was it?
there.
you quickly swipe the kit and a bottle of peroxide from her workbench, rushing back over to jinx. you take one of her wrists and quickly guide her over to her beaten-up couch.
"sit."
"but-"
"sit."
jinx huffs and sits down on the couch, you sitting down beside her. you open the kit and bottle, pouring peroxide onto a cotton square and taking her hand into your lap.
"this is going to sting. a lot."
jinx winces at just the thought, but nods slowly. keeping her eyes on what you're doing-
"agh- fuck!"
she yelps, tossing her head back as you press the square to the wound, holding it there to both disinfect and stop the bleeding.
"i'm sorry, baby, it'll be over soon. i just need to stop the bleeding."
you coo, trying to do anything in your power to calm her down. yet it's obvious the injury itself isn't what she's upset about.
"that- that fucker vi is with shot it off, she shot the ring off..."
jinx seethes through gritted teeth, trying to keep her composure as you hold the peroxide to her wound. ah.. that makes sense. caitlyn was never fond of jinx, especially after the stunt she pulled with the council room. part of you was simply grateful that she didn't just take jinx out, as much as you knew she was probably trying to.
jinx was always putting herself in so much danger, both for the sake of necessity and the fact her ego was just so damn inflated. she said it herself- she just can't seem to die. but she got impossibly close way more than you would've liked her to.
you take out a roll of gauze and begin to wrap it around her hand, the wound being in the center of it all. it's far from professional, but this will have to do until you can get her proper medical attention. which you were trying to avoid talking about, since jinx was the last person to ever admit she needed help.
"jinx, i'm just happy that you're alive. i don't care about the ring right now. what if she had shot you somewhere more... vital?"
"then i would've gotten to keep the ring."
god damn it. she could not be serious right now. you finish wrapping her hand, bleeding having come to a halt and wound disinfected. you'd grab some painkillers in a moment. you quickly take both of her cheeks in your hands, forcing her to look you directly in the eye. the cold metal of your own ring against soft skin.
"jinx. again, i'm happy that you're here, and you're alive, and losing your finger was the worst thing that happened. i will get you a new ring, first thing tomorrow. okay?"
she sighs, her lips coming into a slight pout. at the very least, she's not crying anymore.
"but..."
you press your index finger to her lips, shushing her.
"no. just because you don't have the ring anymore doesn't mean the promise went out the window, okay?" you whisper, brushing your lips against her forehead. "i still love you, and still have promised myself to you. that won't change.
jinx closes her eyes, and leans into your kiss. she seems to have finally resigned, and is snaking her arms around your waist.
"i just- i love you so much..."
"i know, baby. i love you too, which is why i'll get you a new ring. a better one, even."
your hand still cupping her face, you lean in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.
"just stay here, with me. you've had a hell of a day."
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eand47 · 2 months ago
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The only spoiler I’m letting you have for chapter 3 is this fanart by @hunnismokah - check her account by the way if you haven’t already. The characters outlooks are heavily based and influenced by her art. Since she posted it I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace in the ghostfaced mask and I know Halloween is over but God have mercy on me - after I’ve seen MY MAN Ace like this I have gone feral 😩💦💦
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I’m halfway done with the chapter and I will post it by the end of the week as it will take me some time to edit and re-write some of the stuff. In the meantime if you haven't read the first two chapters you can do it here
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kurooh · 2 months ago
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☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)
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“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”
“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”
“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”
“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.
keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.
since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.
“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.
not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.
“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.
“of course, kei. why . . ?”
“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.
you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”
keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.
he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.
“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”
“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.
behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.
“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”
“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”
“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”
your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.
he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”
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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months ago
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Secret Kindness
Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> It's no secret Joel Miller could be an asshole, but it was a secret that that wasn't all he could be.
Disclaimer: I haven't finished my re-watch but I wanted to write something for him. Kinda friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, descriptions of scars, bruises, cleaning wounds, kinda a 'who did this to you?' trope. Swearing, light spoilers for Field of Dreams? Fluff. Not Proof Read.
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It was no secret that Joel Miller could be an asshole. 
From the unspoken stories from his brother, to his treatment of people in general; untrusting, strong dislike, to simply his responses when talking to people. Mostly it was in grunts or short sentences. 
Except, for some reason nobody else could see that Joel wasn’t just an asshole. He could be kind, funny, and deeply caring. That was something you had known from the minute you’d seen him. 
Having arrived in Jackson a month or so after the winter, you had heard stories about Tommy Miller’s brother Joel. Most people called him an ass – never truly giving a reason why. But when he walked back into town with who you presumed to be his daughter with him, you saw there and then a side to Joel Miller that nobody cared to mention. 
How he constantly looked around for the girl, watched her every move in fear she might get hurt. How his hand came to her shoulders, leading her away from looking at the group of people staring at them and towards the bar where Tommy had just walked out from. 
And over the following weeks, you saw small parts of Joel that you felt nobody else had even cared to see. He helped Tommy where he could, and helped others where they’d let him. A couple of times you’d see Ellie – having met her briefly one afternoon when she was sat with Tommy as he tried to fix a toaster – struggling with her homework, only to turn to the one man who a lot of people were afraid of in town. With a calm nod, he’d walk over and help her. 
Then you finally met him. 
Usually, you were on patrol in the afternoons, taking over after Joel’s detail. Except, with one of theirs getting sick, you offered to cover. The other’s didn’t want to pair off with Joel because of their preconceived notions of him, or were more than eager to do so, which made Joel slightly uncomfortable. 
So, when you called out to be paired with him, he agreed. Though, neither of you missed the looks two of the women in the team gave you as you walked past them and followed Joel. 
That was the day you became friends with Joel. 
“You know, if it makes you that uncomfortable, I can make a swap with one of them. Just because the world went to shit doesn’t mean someone should feel like it.”
Joel thanked you and, although he never gave an actual answer to your offer, part of him was pleased to see you in detail regularly. 
Over the following weeks, you got to know more about him. About Ellie. About Tommy. About his life before Jackson. And he got to know yours. 
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.” Joel suddenly said to you one day. 
You’d both been walking the grounds around the town and found yourselves looking over and in behind the wooden posts. People were mostly going about their day, working or playing. 
“Right thing about what?”
“With Ellie. She’s just a kid and she’s already seen so much. She deserves a normal life.”
“She has a normal life, Joel. As normal as it can get these days. And that’s because you gave it to her.”
“Did I, though? Y/n, she hadn’t even seen a car before we hit the road.”
With a small sigh, you walked a little further up and met Joel where he stood. “If you’re that worried about her, show her something. Teach her something. A life skill that isn’t about survival.”
“Like what?”
You shrugged and looked back over the town. There has to be something. 
“Do you know how to play the guitar?” You asked after a moment, turning back to him. 
He nodded. “Use to.”
“Well, I’ve got a guitar in my house. Found it when I was rummaging through the attic. Teach her how to play the guitar.”
You walked away and a little further through the trees, Joel quickly followed after you. “I don’t know any songs.”
“I’ve got a guitar. There’s gotta be song books somewhere in that attic. We can look when we get back into town.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“Then…make one up? It’ll be like riding a bike. Trust me.”
“Trust me.” Joel repeated. “Trust me, she says. Have you ever even played the guitar?”
You let out a small laugh. “Once. I wasn’t very good though.”
A few hours later, yourself and Joel were standing inside your house at the bottom of your attic ladders. 
“After you.” 
You stood so far away from the steps, Joel already had a feeling he knew what would be awaiting him. 
“There a reason I’m going first?” He asked, already halfway up the ladders. 
“No…”
He looked down at where you were standing; holding the ladder steady. “Okay, maybe. I found the guitar and then a massive spider. It ran away quickly. I couldn’t find it so that room is now his.”
Joel’s boots hit the floor of the attic and after a few minutes you heard a stomp before he called down to you. “Spider’s dead. You’re safe.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Walking up the ladders, you peaked your head over the edge of the floor before taking a look around. The coast was clear. And for the next twenty minutes, you and Joel rummaged through a couple of different boxes until you both found what you were looking for, including some extra things.
“Watch your step.” Joel stood behind you a little as you climbed down the last couple of steps, the heat of his hand warming your hip before he stepped around you and pushed the ladder back up into the door, closing the hatch. 
Carrying the case of books down, you followed Joel with the box of clothes that you’d deemed salvageable. 
“Thanks, for your help.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Joel nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Just before you closed the door, you called out for him. “Joel?”
He turned around. 
“You’re a good dad. And Ellie’s a good kid. You’re doing a good job.” 
He didn’t know what to say, feeling grateful if a little awkward and unsure of himself. Looking at you from the path to your home, he wanted to walk back and…hug you? He wasn’t too sure. So, with a low nod, he gave you a brief smile before he thanked you once more and headed back home. 
As the next day came into view, Joel was rushing around the kitchen since he’d missed his alarm leaving Ellie to pound her fist on his bedroom door. 
“Done your homework?”
“We don’t have homework this week.” Ellie told him as she took another stab at her eggs. “Were you meant to see Y/n this morning?”
Joel shook his head, pulling the hot toast from his toaster before reaching for the butter knife. “Don’t think so. Why?”
“Because she’s at the door.”
A knock came less than a second later and Ellie watched as Joel became something more than just flustered. “Uhhh.”
“Want me to get it?”
“Go ahead.” He reached into the cupboard above his head and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. 
As Ellie answered the door and let you inside, letting you follow her through the house towards the kitchen, Ellie didn’t miss how neater the kitchen looked since she left. 
And she didn’t miss how Joel’s hair had gone from sticking out in most places and his shirt being buttoned wrong, to being neat and tidy. 
“Y/n’s here.”
“Hey,” Joel practically breathed out. “Were we meant to meet-”
You shook your head. “No, don’t worry. I just…” You held out the pile of clothes in your hands. “I found some more clothes last night after you left. And considering they won’t fit me, I figured you might want them. I’ve dropped some into town already but I saved these in case you needed some.”
“He does.”
“Ellie.”
“What?”
Joel looked back at you. “Thank you. That’s, uhh, that’s nice. Thanks.”
With a little awkward nod, you placed them on the kitchen table where Ellie took one from the pile and held it up. It didn’t seem like it would fit Joel. 
“There’s some there for you, too,” you told her. 
“Thanks.” 
A moment of silence settled over the kitchen before Joel’s mind was kicked back into reality. “Right, you’re gonna be late. Have you got your-”
“Lunch, books, jacket.” Ellie sounded off. 
It seemed like the list was a ritual. 
“I’ve got it all now let’s go.”
You followed Joel and Ellie out of their house and through the town, Joel walking Ellie to school before he made his way further down the road and towards the stables. 
It was your day to clean out their stables and since Joel was on construction, he’d offered to be the one to help fix a couple of the stable doors. 
And all day, talking or working in silence, you both missed the looks and stares from the rest of the town paterons. 
To them they’d seen Joel go from an asshole who spoke in grunts and rough gestures to witnessing a foreign side to him that apparently you only got to see. 
When you were around him, people saw him actually smile. A few even heard him laugh. Of course, when people mentioned it to Tommy, he was a little shocked they hadn’t seen it sooner. It had shocked him to his core when he saw his brother seem a little like his older self when he was with Ellie – laughing, smiling, joking. Even if it contained a few more swear words. So when he saw Joel practically skip into work (he didn’t. But he definitely had a pep in his step) Tommy made sure to keep an eye on what had caused the change. 
The only thing that had changed in his life outside of Ellie was you. 
You’d come into his life and the side of him that was only visible to his family was very, very slowly becoming visible to the outside world. 
Then the rumors started. 
And they circulated for months. 
“Heard any good new ones?” Tommy asked, leaning over the bar top, pretending to be interested in Ellie’s homework. 
“Overheard one of the teachers. They said they’ve met before but because she was running a herbal shop when we were on the road. Apparently she slipped something into his tea that made sure he only ever liked her if they met again.”
Tommy choked back a laugh. “Well, shit.”
“Still doesn’t beat him being a warlock and being cursed to spend his entire life with her.” Ellie said.
“Do you know who started that one?”
Ellie shook her head, pretending to be interested in her homework, too. You and Joel were on the other side of the bar, setting up a couple of hanging features before Maria could get to the ladders again. Despite her being seven months pregnant, she was determined to ignore her midwife. 
“Not yet. But when I do they better run. I like Y/n.”
“I do, too. And it really should be the other way ‘round. She’s cursed to spend her life with him. I used to live with him. I’ve seen him in the morning.”
“We’ve all seen him in the morning.”
“S’Not my fault I’m not a morning person.” Tommy practically stood to attention as Joel made his way over. “You two giving me shit?”
“No,” Ellie said far too innocently. 
Joel hummed. “I’m sure. Tommy, you seen the 2x4 I left here?”
Looking under the bar, he held it up. “This?”
Joel took it from his hand. “Thanks.”
“Hey, Maria and I were thinking about having a family dinner this week? What’d you think?”
Joel nodded after taking in Ellie’s reaction. “Sure. When?”
“Tomorrow? About 7?”
Joel nodded. “We’ll be there.”
“Hey.” 
Joel turned back to his brother. “Want to invite Y/n?”
Joel looked from his brother, to you where you were measuring out the centre of the wall on the ladder, and then back to his brother. “I can ask.”
Tommy smiled and Joel went on his way. “How long do’ya think it’ll take?”
“At this rate? An eternity.”
The next evening rolled around and you found yourself being dragged towards Tommy and Maria’s home by Maria. 
“My shift ran late but I didn’t want to come empty handed.” You explained to Tommy and Joel as you were practically launched inside by the former’s wife. 
“All is forgiven.” Tommy told you as he showed his wife what was in the tupperware you’d brought with you. “Right?”
“Yes, all is forgiven. Now let’s eat.”
Sitting down at the dinner table, Joel held out his arm and let you walk inside before him, where he held your chair out for you before tucking you under and sitting beside you and Ellie sitting on his other side. 
However, halfway through dinner, your body jerked til you sat straight. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just twisted myself.”
All in all, it was a nice family dinner. A couple stories were shared, some updates given and then you found yourself being walked home by Joel since Ellie had given a small salute to you both before reaching your path, saying she had to rush home to do…something. 
“Have fun, kids.”
“Take the main road!”
“Whatever you say!”
Joel gave a small groan. “She’s gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”
You smiled. “She’ll be safe, Joel.”
Walking you to your door, Joel saw your body react to something that didn’t seem to be there. 
“Are you sure you’re okay? That’s the forth-”
You let out a laugh. “I promise, Joel. I’m okay. Just twisted myself on patrol today.”
He didn’t seem to believe you. “I swear. I’ll be okay.”
With a sigh, Joel accepted your promise. “Okay.”
Then you did something that even shocked you. You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, for walking me home. And for inviting me. It was a fun night.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“We should do it more often.”
Joel smiled. “Just might.”
Then a familiar silence settled over both you and Joel. The kind of silence that was begging for something more. But then, taking in a breath, you stepped back. 
“Thank you, again. Goodnight, Joel.”
“G'night, Y/n.”
As you shut and locked the door, Joel found himself smiling as he walked away, his gaze drifting back to your home every now and again as he made his way back down the path and through the town to his own home where Ellie was waiting for him in the living room. 
“So, did you kiss her?”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The look Joel gave Ellie made her feel like she was under a spot-light. It was past ten pm. 
“Answer the question?”
“Ellie.”
Standing dramatically, Ellie sighed. “Come on. I know you like her. And she likes you. Why not just kiss her already? Give the rest of us a break from the looking, and the staring and the smiling and the looking.”
Taking his daughter by her shoulders, he steered her towards the stairs and up them. “Teeth and bed. Now, please.”
“Ugh, fine. But you know I’m right.”
“Goodnight, Ellie.”
Eventually, after hearing the tap turn off and Ellie’s bedroom door shut, Joel shut his own and lay down in bed, his last thoughts being on you and what Ellie had said. 
I know you like her. And she likes you.
A few days passed, however, before he saw you again. Which worried him more than he wanted to admit. But when he finally did, he knew the minute he saw you something was wrong. 
Ellie had knocked on your front door early in the afternoon having snuck out of school. She’d invited you to watch a movie or two with her and Joel that evening. 
“We found a whole bunch at the back of one of the closets. Please say yes.”
You smiled. You’d been dying to see both of them for days but the pain that had started as your side had practically spread across your entire body overnight. 
“Okay. So long as it’s okay with Joel.”
“He said it’s okay.”
Joel didn’t know anything about it until Ellie got home from school and told him what would be happening. But he wouldn’t have said no anyway. 
Ellie had practically flung the door off its hinges when she saw you walking up the steps of their porch. 
“Someone’s excited.”
“Come on, come on, come on.” 
Ellie pulled you inside and shut the door. “Joel! She’s here.”
“Is the door still attached? No Ellie sized hole in it?”
“He’s been grumpy all week.”
“I heard that!”
Then he appeared around the corner and your heart did the same thing it had been doing for weeks whenever you did see him. But that only caused you more pain in your chest. 
“Ellie, go and bring the box down. We need to see which ones need to be rewound.”
Ellie looked between the pair of you before disappearing up the stairs. 
“Hey, sorry I didn’t-”
“Show me.”
“What?” You took a small step back as Joel was about to take one forward. 
“Y/n. Show me.”
Carefully walking over to you, you shook your head. “I’m fine, Joel.”
He was a little less abrupt this time. “Show me?”
His fingers traced the hem of your t-shirt and with a reluctant but painful sigh, you carefully removed your jacket with his help. 
“Can I?”
With a soft nod, Joel took his eyes from yours and lifted the corner of your t-shirt only to be met with deep purple bruises with spots of black, green and yellow. 
“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s starting to heal.”
Joel didn’t seem amused. “Y/n-” Then he noticed the others. “You’ve been cut. Jesus. Fuck. Come with me.”
Taking your hand in his, he pulled you towards the kitchen. “Sit down.”
“Joel, I’m fine.”
“Sit down.”
“If I sit down, it hurts more.”
Another silence washed over you both before he turned back to his freezer and pulled out a couple of ice packs. “Here…can I?”
You gave him your permission once more and he lifted your t-shirt and placed the ice packs against your sides. You could feel his thumb rubbing light lines across your side as he held you steady. 
“Got 'em’ I think a couple- holy shit.”
Ellie got a clear view of the deep bruises across you. “Ellie, can you run and get the first aid kit from the bathroom?”
“Yea, are you okay?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Ellie.” Joel pushed. She nodded quickly then ran upstairs in search of the kit. 
“That’s what you told me.” Joel mumbled under his breath. 
“It didn’t look this bad.”
“When did it happen?”
There was no point in lying to him anymore. “Patrol before the dinner.”
“Who did it?”
“I slipped and fell against one of the trees.”
Flicking his eyes from your wounds and back to your face, one of his hands ran around the rim of your top until it was lifted high enough for him to get a clear picture, he shook his head. “Trees don’t tend to have rifles as branches.”
“It was mine.”
Joel pointed at one of the longer bruises. “This one…is yours.”
He pointed at the other one. “Whose was this?”
He looked you in your eyes but you shook your head. “Joel…”
“Got it.” Ellie landed at the bottom of the stairs. 
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Pulling a chair out, Joel sat beside you. “Sure you don’t want to sit?”
You shook your head. “Not yet.”
“Okay. Ellie, go and see if you can rewind some of those tapes.”
She just nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Joel waited until she left the room before asking you to remove your shirt. It took you a minute but with his help you finally got it over your head. Under any other context, Joel’s eyes trailing your body would have been for another reason outside of his brain counting each cut and scrape you’d gotten and each bruise that was trying its best to heal. 
“This might sting.”
You nodded and bit your lip as the cold disinfectant hit your wounds. Some of them you didn’t even know existed considering you could only turn your body so far to look in the mirror before it screamed for you to remain still. 
“Was it your partner?”
You swallowed thickly. “No.”
Your back was to him for the moment, so that made it easier to tell him the truth. “One of the others. They were hearing noises. His partner had left him and he got lost. Must have heard me and just…jumped. He didn’t mean to. He’s just a kid, Joel. He got scared. Did what most of us would have done.”
“You could have been shot.”
“But I wasn’t. I’m okay, Joel.”
He shook his head. “Says the woman covered in bruises and scars.”
“They’ll heal. I’ll heal.”
“What’s his partner’s name?”
“Joel.”
“Just tell me. If you don’t, I’ll ask around and Maria can be the one to deal with him.”
You sighed. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“What his partner did was stupid.”
“Joel.”
He grunted. “I promise.”
Swearing halfway through as Joel pressed another cotton swab of disinfectant to a scar, you told him his name. Joel had a couple of run ins with him over the last couple of months. A jock twenty years out of college, still trying to haze the kids under his authority. 
Ten minutes or so later, Joel had finished and replaced the ice packs you’d been holding at your side. 
Laying them on either side of your body as you turned around, your t-shirt falling back around your body. He slowly stood and you held onto his arms, your eyes closing. 
“Any better?”
You nodded. “Much. Thank you.”
You both stood there for a few moments, your eyes closed, feeling the throbbing in your sides settle more than it had done in the last couple of days. And as you let out a calm breath, Joel leaned against you a little and pressed a kiss to your forehead before you rested it against his chest. 
“I think I’m ready to sit now.”
“Okay,” Joel whispered before pressing another kiss to the top of your head before walking with you into the living room, finding a set up already made by Ellie. 
“I thought the blankets might help.”
You smiled at her. “Thank you, Ellie.”
She smiled from her spot on the floor by the TV, her finger still holding the rewind button down. Joel helped you sit down. 
“So, what are the options?”
Ellie read out a couple of the boxes. There were a lot of Disney films, a couple of thrillers and a few more different blockbusters. So, sticking his hand into the box without looking, Joel pulled one out. 
Ellie read the cover. “Field of Dreams.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one.”
Ellie looked at Joel for confirmation and he nodded. “Stick it in, kid.”
Sitting beside you, you leaned against Joel for support and very soon after, Ellie joined his other side. 
“Does he dream about a field?”
“Just watch it and you’ll find out.”
Around 40 minutes into the movie, Joel felt a steady weight against his arm where he turned and found Ellie fast asleep. So carefully reaching over, he pulled a blanket over her and held her steady against him. 
“She asleep?”
“Yep. Yet to get through a movie with her awake.”
You smiled. 
“You get much sleep recently?”
“Enough to keep me going.” Joel didn’t say anything but when he placed his arm around your shoulders, that said everything. 
“This always made me cry.” You whispered to Joel as Archie stepped across the line and became his older self. 
“How many times have you seen this film?” He’d caught you a couple of times mouthing the lines along with the characters. 
You felt your cheeks heat. “A couple. Before I came to Wyoming, one of my neighbours had a VCR and two films. This and The Parent Trap. Since I’d look after her two kids when she worked, it didn’t take long for me to learn the scripts.”
“So how much do you know of The Parent Trap?”
You felt yourself chuckle. “We can watch it and find out.”
Joel laughed quietly, too, before carefully pulling you closer. “How’s your side?”
You looked up at him. “Better. Thank you.”
“Good.”
Joel pressed a kiss to your head before getting settled with both you and Ellie. And just as Kevin Costner started to play a game of catch, you felt yourself drift off to sleep. 
You didn’t know how long had passed since the movie ended but when your body hit a soft surface, you stirred awake. 
“Shush, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Joel.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna check on Ellie.”
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your head but you mustered enough energy to reach out for him. “Come back.”
“I promise.” Lifting your hand, he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. You woke up again when a weight dipped on the other side of the bed. Then you heard a familiar groan as his body settled into the softness of the mattress. 
You shuffled closer to Joel. 
Waking for the third time, the room was being lit with the soft rays of the sun and beside you, deep breaths were being taken by Joel as he remained in a deep sleep. 
If this was anyone else, you probably would have left. Hell, you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place. But you trusted Joel. More so than most. You also found him to be steadier than most. He’d shared some of what had happened on the road with him and Ellie, as well as what happened before. Life hadn’t been steady with him, and yet, there he lay. Stable. Able. Strong. Maybe not as he was twenty years ago, but still. Trustworthy. And beneath it all…kind. Caring. Sensitive; even if he wouldn’t admit it. He knew when people were hurt, or hurting. And maybe for others he’d seem gruff. But not with you. Not with Ellie. Not with those he loved and cared deeply for. 
With his hand wrapped over yours, you lifted it and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Maybe Joel Miller could be an asshole. But to you he was a decently kind man. 
Maybe others wouldn’t see that considering between the hour that Joel had left to pick a package up from Tommy, leaving you and Ellie to find another tape to play, your attacker’s partner found his nose broken and had been given a black eye. But you didn’t mind his kindness being kept a secret from the rest of the world. 
Those he cared for knew the truth. 
You knew the truth. 
And nothing could ever change that. 
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fawninthesnow · 18 days ago
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𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞: 2 | Maternal! figure | Caracalla & Geta
Summary: You visit the young princes in the palace; While teaching, you tell them a folktale of a wolf and its two creations.
Warnings: Fluff, (slight) angst, english is not my first language, foreshadowing, spoilers
Work count: 1k
a/n: Keep in mind they are around 14-16 here and orphaned already. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. This series is for that.
More on my Master list! + follow & like pls
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“Give it to me! I want to read it!” The boys tugged at the letter, snatching it back and forth between them. Finally, Geta managed to wrest it from his brother's grasp and held it high above his head. “You can barely read her writing. Let me read it to you!” Caracalla folded his arms and listened.
Hello, my loves. I’m writing to you from Germania. I miss you both more than words can express; my heart aches at the thought of you being alone in that palace. However, I take comfort in knowing that you have each other. I eagerly await the day when I can hold you both in my arms again. I’ve written two letters, so please, for my sake, stop arguing over who gets to keep the paper.
Caracalla took the envelope from the table; the boys sit beside each other, reading from the papers.
When I get back, we can get to your studies. Hopefully this time without much of a fight—Geta.
Caracalla nudged his brother.
If you are reading this, I should be on the coast of Corsica.
The two turned to each other, “That means she is only a day away, Calla!” His brother excitedly beamed, holding onto the letter in his hands with a careful yet tight hold.
Each moment feels like a journey around the sun without both of you. Please know that my love for you exceeds what I can express and what you can ever imagine. With all my love, Lady [Y/n].
The boys stayed awake that night, eager not to miss your arrival. Typically, it was Caracalla who would stay up late or rise before dawn to spend more time with you. However, since they hadn’t seen you since the holidays and with the new year already upon them, neither wanted to waste a moment away from you.
Geta held a small torch in his clutch, his brother’s hand in the other. “Calla, stay awake.” He sighed as his brother nodded off while standing. Geta led his brother to his room and tucked him in bed.
“Where are you going?” Caracalla asked as he regained some consciousness.
“I will stay with you.” He laid his head back onto the pillow.
You glanced into the bedroom when you heard their voices. The two were facing each other, unaware of your presence. As you stepped inside and smiled, Geta instantly stood up and rushed into your arms. “He is sleeping?” Geta nodded, his head buried in your clothes. “Are you tired?” He didn't need to agree; it was evident. You climbed into bed with Caracalla and carefully lifted Geta, bringing him in as well. In response to your scent, Caracalla turned toward you and wrapped his arm around your side. On your other side, Geta mirrored the gesture. You pulled the blanket over all three of you. “I love you both so much.”
***
“Grab it, Caracalla!” His brother yelled as he jumped back into the fountain. His brother continued to laugh, taking his time with the slithering creature. “Caracalla! I swear!”
The boy picked up the snake in his two hands and inches closer to his brother. “…oh, Geta?”
“I’ll tell! I’ll tell [Y/n]!”
“Tell me what?” You left the palace and joined them in the overgrown courtyard. Upon seeing the snake in Caracalla’s hands you frowned, your hands on your hips. He looked down at his feet and placed the snake back into the bushes. Geta ran to your side and held onto your clothes. “You know better.”
“I know.”
“You know your brother hates snakes too.”
“I know.” He repeated. You did not need to tell him to apologize. “I am sorry, Geta.”
“If I see another snake in your hands, you will go to your room.” The boy groaned, “Wait…why are you both out here? You should be inside with your studies.” The two brothers looked at each other.
Inside, you read from a scroll and the two boys took notes, “Beyond the oaks in Germania, Gray wolves are carnivorous and primarily hunt ungulates such as deer, wild boar, and even smaller mammals; ready to traverse for several miles. Do you recall the ways they communicate?”
“Howls, body language, and scent marking.” Caracalla said, rather doubtful of himself.
“That is true! Good job.” You cuffed his cheek. “Wolves have a special place in German literature; representing wilderness and the untamed spirit of nature.” You gaze fell on the two and cleared your throat. “Would you both like to hear a story?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, please.”
You took a few of Caracalla’s wooden toys; a wolf, two boys and two rather worn figures. “There once were two people…although they tried, they never could tame this wolf.”
“Hm? Why didn’t they just give it away?” Caracalla asked.
“Well, it is an animal that cannot be disposed of. Now, others would come to their home and would give the two all kinds of advice! ‘Just hit it, it will listen.’ ‘Let it be, it will listen.’ ‘Put it outside, it will listen.’ Nothing worked. The wolf would always come back…rowdy, violent and disobedient.”
“It is a wild creature! Why would they invite it into their home to begin with?” Geta asked and leaned forward, rather invested.
“Some things come inside without an invitation.” The two brothers looked at each other. You pushed the two figures away, leaving the two boys and the wolf. “And the two people…they had two children soon after, leaving the wolf with them.” The boys looked rather puzzled, sad---
“As the children grew, the wolf would linger around the home. Eventually, the children grew fond of it. They shared a bed, food. Soon, they built a home just for the wolf, visiting it every day.”
“They should kill the wolf.” Geta spat.
“That is a very big task, Geta.” You said softly, looking him in his brown eyes. “What do you think, Caracalla? What would you do?”
“I am not sure…I would treat it like a wild animal. I would never make a home for it.”
You squeezed their cheeks. “Alright. That is enough for today.”
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Part 3
A/n: Wolf is in reference to the movie but does not mean the same thing. <3 After doing more research on the actual twin emperors of rome, I am now aware Caracalla is older yet loved his brother very much; I will be going off of their real stories instead of the movie! I love the movies dearly lol but I prioritize my writing.
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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The Us That Could Have Been
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader
Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!
W/C: 5.7k
Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.
Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.
A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.
Find the rest of my masterlist here.
If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 
Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 
“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 
“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 
“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 
“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 
“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 
“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 
“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 
“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 
“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 
–X–
A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 
Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.
The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 
If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 
The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 
It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 
Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 
You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 
“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 
“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 
You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 
Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 
“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 
The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 
The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 
“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 
“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 
“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 
“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”
“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 
“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.
“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 
“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 
He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 
–X– 
“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 
“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 
Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 
“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 
Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 
“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 
“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 
He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 
When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 
JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 
“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 
“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 
“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 
“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 
“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 
“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 
They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 
“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”
“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 
“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”
JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 
“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 
“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 
“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 
The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 
“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 
“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  
“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 
“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 
“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 
“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 
“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  
“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 
“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  
“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”
“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 
“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 
“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 
“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 
“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 
They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 
“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.
“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 
“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  
“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  
“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 
“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 
“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  
He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  
You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 
“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  
“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 
“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  
“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 
“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 
You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 
“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  
“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 
–X– 
The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?
Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 
“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”
Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  
“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  
“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 
He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 
“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  
“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 
He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 
“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 
“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 
“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 
–X– 
You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 
You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 
“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 
It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  
You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 
He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 
“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 
“I love you, please don’t cry.” 
“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 
“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 
“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 
“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 
He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  
“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 
“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 
Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 
“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 
He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 
“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 
“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 
“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 
“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 
“Why did you run away the other day?” 
“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”
“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 
“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 
“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 
“Y/N, please.” 
“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 
The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 
He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 
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zuzu-draws · 9 months ago
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So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.
I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!
Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.
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This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!
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This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.
What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.
Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.
And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)
In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.
On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.
Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:
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Link to the original thread: Link.
More context (and reactions :P):
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Link to original thread: Here
This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.
When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:
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When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?
No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.
This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.
This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.
Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )
I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.
He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.
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I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.
Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.
Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.
This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.
I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:
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Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.
Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.
But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:
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This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.
Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.
If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3
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