#it’s because it’s because it’s because the gods don’t see humans as valuable beings rather just cute little accessories

[ki1ldeer]

Hits Finn with the sad beam because I’m STRESSED (organic chemistry you know how it is)

[artist-issues]

Let’s be real. With this new twenty one pilots letter coming out I just want to say, there are some truths that are easier to stand up for than others. Because people will agree with you.

If you boldly proclaim that you should take care of animals, which are weaker than yourself, rather than abuse them, almost everybody is going to agree and applaud. But if you add, “but a human life is more valuable than a pet’s life,” then you’re going to have people raging at you.

If you boldly proclaim that someone has value, and they should not take their own life, almost everybody is going to agree and applaud. But if you add, “God is the one Who assigns value, regardless of how you feel, so you don’t have the right to kill yourself,” then you’re going to have people raging at you.

If you’re just going to “stand up” for the part of the truth that everybody agrees with, but keep your mouth shut about the equally important whole truth that people find “controversial,” that’s not really “standing up” at all.

Everybody’s “standing up” for “don’t kill yourself.” Everyone likes “self-worth,” everyone wants someone else to tell them they have it, even if they don’t feel it. Everyone’s standing up for that.

Not everybody is standing up for the actual universally true answer to the question, “where does worth come from?” Or, more broadly, “why don’t i have the right to do whatever I want with my life, including end it?”

The answer to both is, “The God of the Bible assigns human beings worth because they’re made in His image, He loves them, and He put them on the planet. Who are the humans to argue that they feel no value, then try and take control of when they leave the planet, when He said, ‘I want you here, and you have worth?’”

That’s the answer. Because hey, if you assign yourself worth? Well, that’s just based on you. And you feel worthless just as often as you feel worthwhile. Who’s to say when you’re right and when you’re wrong, about your own worth? I’ll tell you who. Not you. God. Someone outside of you, who knows you better than you know yourself, and actually sees this all clearly, and actually has the authority to start your life up and end it any time He wants.

“For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even to live. Indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves so that we would not have confidence in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead;” 2 Cor 1:8-9

Psalm 31:15 says “My times are in Your hands,” not mine.

That’s the answer. Thats the whole truth, the whole reason you shouldn’t commit suicide or think you’re worth nothing—the whole truth is the version that will last, it’s the version that applies to everything and has lasting effect in every season of your life, including the part that comes after death.

That’s the truth that’s hard to stand up for. Because people would much rather be god of their own lives than accept that a God more powerful, more loving, and more understanding than they are themselves is in charge.

[dailycharacteroption]

Filidh (Bard Archetype)

 In all of humanity, is there any greater role to play than being a preserver of knowledge? And when I say knowledge, I don’t just mean scientific or historic knowledge, but also our stories, our art, our creativity. Preserving those things for as long as possible in direct defiance of the notion that we are unimportant in the full scope of the universe.

It’s for that reason I say the bard class deserves more respect than it gets in some circles of the fandom. Sure, make your jokes, but bards and a thousand other traveling minstrels, storytellers, poets, and the like a hundred different names and cultures preserved knowledge before the invention of writing, and continued to do so even after the creation of the printing press. The bards you play in games are the embodiment of that tradition, and they even create stories of their own, and your own. And hey, if some of them are a more lurid nature, so be it. Such tales are equally valuable.

I say all this because today’s archetype is the filidh, which were the Irish equivalent of a bard, being elite scholars and poet that went about memorizing and performing the oral traditions of Ireland before Christianity came, and it was they who worked with the Christian monks to convert most of those stories into writing, though the monks rewrote them to make mortal kings out of old gods and other such alterations, as they tend to do. (Curiously though, the spelling “filidh” is actually Scottish Gaelic, whereas in old Irish it would be “fili”)

However, the filidh of Pathfinder focus on another aspect of the tradition, that is not well-known. You see, the words from which Filidh are derived seem to be ones related to sight. So it is believed that filidh were associated with trances and seeing the future.

The result is a variety of bard that uses their connections to other living beings to help guide them to their futures and possibly change their fates. In addition, with the filidh’s real-life connections to the druids of Ireland, they also gain a few elements of the druidic ways as well.

 Indeed, these bards do not wear metal armor or heavier gear, but can use armor modified by the magic of the ironwood spell in the same way a druid can. What’s more, their magic is more akin to the divine than the arcane, removing the risk of arcane spell failure, but requiring them to have a holy symbol or an instrument on hand to focus their magic.

With uncanny secrets, these bards can expend spellcasting magic to regain energy for their performances, which they often need as many of the effects they would use them for are quite time-consuming.

Filidh’s get many new performances, starting with one that gives enhanced cognition to allies, allowing them to see danger coming and potentially avoid it.

With ten minutes of performing (though only requiring a fraction of energy), they can also create a powerful divination effect that allows listeners to potentially gain answers about upcoming events, seeing them as flashes of insight and visions.

Another such performance lets listeners hear the voices of plants and animals, conversing with them.

A particularly powerful performance lets them bind the life forces of allies so that one can absorb some of the harm their allies receive. What’s more, the filidh can switch which allies are benefiting from the bond whenever they like as long as they maintain the performance, letting others share the load when some become too drained to continue providing useful aid.

The most powerful among them are able to bless allies with a song that offers true foresight, making them impossible to ambush in addition to enhancing their awareness of incoming harm and how to avoid it.

This archetype is a combination of a more defensive bard, mixed with a bit of druidic flavor, which can be quite useful if you’d rather keep your allies safe than bolster their attack power. Also, while it may not come up in most games, the ability to use bardic performance to cast foresight can actually be very powerful as long as your GM is liberal with how they interpret that spell’s “insight into how best to protect yourself.” (Depending on the GM, it might be a very good ability or actively worse than the first performance the archetype grants). Another strength of the archetype is the ability to convert spells into more rounds of bardic performance. Now, obviously you should probably invest in Extra Performance at least once, but being able to perform longer when spells might not help can be useful not just on the battlefield, but can actually be used in non-combat encounters to ensure that allies can actually hold converstations with animals and plants you allow them to talk to with your performance.

 Though it’s not really mentioned, I imagine that these bards in particular are concerned with both the future and the past. Not only do they seek to preserve the tales that came before, but also provide a touch of destiny and precognition to help others make tales of their own that inspire wonder in generations to come. In this way, you could say that filidhs are guardians of the legacy of whole civilizations.

  To those who are sensitive to it, there is a place in the Misty Moors where fate has become snarled. Seeking to undo this cause, a filidh hires the party to accompany her there. What they find there is a cult dedicated to a dark god of pain and control, led by a limbless horror they call the Joyful Thing.

 To the samsarans, the past and the future are ever-present things, their past lives lingering in their minds and hearts while the question of what they will become lingers in their minds. It’s no surprise then that the tradition of the filidh would come to them, and they can teach it to those that are interested.

 Though he does not know yet why, Likas the filidh feels called, seeking out the heroes to accompany them on their latest quest. Perhaps his powers will be of aid, or perhaps he merely must be there to record the events that will transpire.

[crystallizedday]

DID SOMEBODY SAY LORE???

Since I’m still in a major Poptropica hyperfix, of course my first major lore dump (since my accursed Amino days, but we don’t talk about that) is going to be related to my take on the world of Poptropica!

& since I have no word limit on here, I can finally go fricken HAM with this!!

Here we go!

Alright, firstly I wanna tackle my main trio since I had to be VERY vague with their profiles.

Sporty used to be (& technically still is) a dragonborne who left his home island in pursuit of adventure when he was a teenager (which is basically me making sense of when my in-game version of Sporty was grey with horns & bat wings).

Eventually, he meets these demi-god people residing in the skies called the Blitzmanians, & their whole deal is they’re protectors of Poptropica (specifically from Zeus, since that guy tries to take over the planet a LOT behind the scenes). After witnessing Sporty & his adventures in secret, their king was impressed with his caring & passionate spirit & thus bestows upon him the ability to disguise himself as a proper human (which is where the red lightning tattoo comes from) in exchange for Sporty working for them to help even more of Poptropica, giving him updates on what islands need his help & such.

Later down the line, he is confronted by Lone, the son of the king, who felt outplayed by Sporty & desired to be the one to travel Poptropica to help the populous & impress his father. Sporty’s quickly able to convince the jealous prince to tag along with him instead, letting the literal demi god reside with him in his rather humble home.

Soon after, this mysterious woman that Sporty had a few friendly encounters with shows up to give Sporty a proposition to ALSO work with Spy Island HQ to FURTHER allow him to help the entirety of Poptropica. The dork with a golden heart of course agrees to this & now Quick Grape, who Lone did not 100% trust, joined the team, allowing the gang to use all sorts of advances gadgetry & even upgrading Sporty’s house to be far more comfortable. Since Sporty trusts Quick with all his heart, he fails to notice how overly observant Quick can be with Lone & anything related to his clan. Lone notices, however, but has accidentally became too attached to Sporty to do anything about it.

NOW FOR THE BADDIES!!

All the villains know each other pretty well, but they were still rather on their own for the most part. That was, until the Super Villain Quartet regrouped. That totem thing about “removing their evil” thing was complete baloney & practically didn’t do anything other than put powerful evil-fueled energy into physically manifested objects that got destroyed anyway, so the four still-evil villains decided since they were chosen as the most evil villains in Poptropica, they might as well team up to increase their odds of succeeding (even if Bard & Harvey didn’t quite see eye to eye at the time).

Somehow building themselves a huge base of operations, the four work together to aid in each other’s villainous deeds, with the advance defense systems Bard & Harvey co-built keeping all four of them safe from the law & from Sporty’s squad. While their ambitions were rather vast in the beginning, they gradually became more & more demoralized to push for the ultimate goal of ruling Poptropica after so many failed attempts & thus shifted to more smaller acts of villainy, either for legitimate reasons (like Black Widow stealing valuables & riches for money with Crawfish sometimes doing the same) or just because it gets the adrenaline running & it’s fun (literally the other three). This is why Bard is a lot more calm & sarcastic then they were back in Astro Knights.

Speaking of me referring to Bard that way, yes, my guy IS non-binary, pretty much to an extreme extent, & what I mean by that is my guy is like… mostly mechanical, with only their head, chest, & right arm being flesh. Yeah, I took the fandom headcanon & RAN with it! Like I made Bard the ULTIMATE non-binary. Like I made them DESPISE gender, it’s great. They’re rather snarky, almost always aiming their witty remarks at Widow because she’s the most easily angered by their comments (that & Harvey does that cute bunny “thumping” thing when he’s mad & Bard’s mechanical heart can’t take too much of that cuteness). Those two always try to outwit each other & Bard is almost always triumphant.

Bard’s not COMPLETELY chill, however, & when set off, practically will lunge at someone with their own bare hands. They’re the LEAST mentally stable of the four after all, not to mention having… well… issues thanks to a CERTAIN someone throwing them under the bus as Mordred as they were thrown into prison for the first time.

The extent of these issues has led to the very name “Mordred” almost immediately putting them into a fit of rage, same with “Elyana”.

It is also impossible for anyone else to take off the jester hat. Their hair is BEYOND ruined & since Bard is too afraid to shave it all off since they know it won’t grow back in the state it’s in, they just hide it. It is why Bard will go anywhere in a VARIETY of different outfits but will STILL have the hat on no matter how “goofy” they look.

Dr. Hare is a lot more goofy than Bard, & is the one who introduced the idea of petty villainy to Bard (& the first one to fall for the guy & be TERRIBLE at hiding it). He’s the most animated out of the four, doing all sorts of crazy one-off ideas practically every week. This has led to many, MANY “wait a minute, that’s MY idiot!!” moments with him, since while Harvey is a mechanical & bio-engineering genius, he can be rather… short sighted, often acting before thinking.

Oh also, going by another popular Poptropica headcanon, THIS Harvey is also trans, but just like Bard, he’s the ULTIMATE trans, COMPLETELY switching his sex with nothing but his genius & probably some shady methods he will never bring to light. Why? Cause a mad scientist being trans & doing whatever it takes to do what every trans person wishes they could accomplish is just such a brilliant idea & you cannot stop me.

Regarding him ABSOLUTELY having some rabbit-traits to him (cause like… there’s no way those buck teeth are NOT from the lab accident), I firmly believe he has a few rabbit quirks to him like the angry thumping I mentioned earlier as well as the vegetarian diet rabbits have, which is why he is very… VERY skinny.

He also ADORES animals, same with Bard. The two of them would actively save a hamster’s life over another human’s, which has led to some… minor conflicts with Crawfish that I will mention later.

Black Widow is the one to maintain most of her original villainous ways, still stealing paintings & vandalizing famous artworks. Even so, she’s the most social of the group, always going out to hang out with the lady villains of Poptropica to catch a break from the lunatics she practically lives with.

… but she’s not a gay scientists, so my headcanons stop there.

Captain Crawfish! He’s taken up the hobby of wrestling the beasts of the sea & participating in a variety of deadly adventures, which the other three contribute to him trying to trick himself into thinking he’s still young & invincible. He’s quite respectfully strong, but is still adjusting to the different cultures around him & can’t seem to wrap his head around modern technology.

Also, my guy has DEFINITELY broken a few immensely important bones that Bard had to replace. Just sayin.

MKAY I think that’s a good enough rundown of the basics of my AU for now, mainly cause if I go any further, it’ll be increasingly harder to proof read it all. :pppppp

[wolint]

PRIDE:A PRECURSOR TO DOWNFALL

PRIDE: A PRECURSOR TO DOWNFALL

Proverbs 16:18

 

Pride, a character flaw so perilous that it is abhorred even by God, is often the root of self-deception. Galatians 6:3 warns us against the illusion of being something we are not.

The sin of pride violates the first rule of wisdom - the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom. Pride leads us to attribute our achievements, abilities, successes, and wealth to ourselves, rather than acknowledging God’s enabling and empowering hand.

Pride, characterized by an unreasonable and inordinate self-esteem and satisfaction with one’s achievements, sets its own standard of worth or perfection. It blinds us to our flaws and makes us unteachable, unreasonable, and stubbornly unapproachable. Proverbs 26:12 suggests that a fool has more hope than a proud person, for pride fills us with conceit.

Philippians 2:3 admonishes this conceit. Pride puts us in constant competition, making us believe we are superior in every situation. However, as believers, we must remember that we are all equal in God’s eyes. Our purpose is not to outshine each other, but to represent Christ as best as we can, without considering ourselves indispensable.

God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble say James 4:6. This truth, echoed in 1 Peter 5:5 and first mentioned in Proverbs 3:34, underscores the importance of humility. Pride, with its arrogant independence from God and superiority of attitude, is one of the four things that the Lord detests according to Proverbs 8:13.

Pride leads to downfall because it prevents us from submitting to God’s authority, will, and purpose. It tempts us to pursue our own agenda outside God’s will, leading to destruction declares Proverbs 21:24.

As with so many of the sins of attitude, pride cannot remain internalized. It can infect one’s speech; boasting is one way by which this sin can appear in one’s speaking.

An outstanding example of pride going before destruction was the downfall of King Uzziah in 2 Chronicles 26:16, who, because of pride, dared to offer incense on the altar of incense and was smitten with leprosy as his punishment from God.

The Bible repeatedly warns us that God will not share His glory with anyone. The story of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 5:20 serves as a stark reminder of this truth.

Human beings initiated a cycle of harm, enslavement, and even murder against one another. However, this rupture in harmony didn’t commence with the first act of violence; it originated from pride.

King Herod, a ruler of Israel and Idumea in Matthew 2:6, felt so threatened by the promise of a new king in Jesus that he ordered the massacre of all baby boys in Bethlehem3. His pride and fear led to this violent act.

Simon the Magician in the book of Acts, seeing the power of the Holy Spirit, offered money to the apostles to receive the same gift but his pride was rebuked by the apostles.

Unchecked pride leads to a fall and eventual destruction. It brings disgrace upon us, dishonours God, creates barriers in relationships, and renders us useless for kingdom agendas and mandates. “The proud one shall stumble and fall, with none to raise him up” says Jeremiah 50:32. The downfall of Edom in Obadiah 3-4 is a testament to this.

We must guard against the enemy’s lie that we are self-sufficient. Anything done outside of God’s will is destined to fail. As Proverbs 14:12 warns, a way may seem right out of pride, but it leads only to destruction.

We must recognise when our actions are motivated by pride and guard against it by being self-aware, the first step towards change. It’s never too late to work on cultivating humility. It might be helpful to seek guidance from trusted friends, mentors, or professionals who can provide valuable insights and help us.

PRAYER: Lord, because pride is a sin and dangerous, help me to always walk humbly before you so that you don’t resist me in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom,

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT PRAYER MIN.

[dfroza]

i think there is “value” in words

incalculable value in illuminated truth.

yes, we need Love. we need acceptance. we need affection. we need connection. and we need grace for mistakes and correction, which comes from knowing and believing something.

the Wisdom of our Creator is called the Word of God (through whom the universe was made) which makes Wisdom more valuable that gold, even the purest gold on earth. and gold itself is a sacred metal, and rare. it is of great value, and it stores it. it retains it better than inflationary paper dollars that are manipulated by central banks. having an honest money system (such as based on honest weights and measures that don’t change) certainly would help keep things in check rather than being manipulated by a government that runs on amassing debt.

but we’re all in debt to our sins and we owe the price of a death sentence. yet, it was already paid through sacred Blood, beyond what any amount of gold can purchase. even though the Ark of the Covenant itself is made of the wood of a Tree covered in pure gold, although the earthly Ark and Temple were “copies” or a “mirroring” of the heavenly originals.

and we see the human desire to build another Temple on earth in Jerusalem to offer sacrifices again using the Ark, but then we also see Ezekiel’s documented vision of a different form of Temple that doesn’t mention the Ark but does include specific offerings. the Blood of the Son finished the work of Atonement by the heavenly Ark, yet Ezekiel’s writing points to the restoration of the sons (tribes) of Israel in the land and a Temple used to point to the finished work of the Son (to mirror as a constant daily reminder) which could be done during the thousand-year millennial Kingdom on earth that precedes the grand design of A new heaven and earth. because then, when the new Jerusalem comes to “rest” upon a pure earth, there will be no Temple as a building since the Son and eternal King is the True Temple.

but in the eternal [here, & now] we have the silent and invisible Spirit (of holiness) with us on earth forming the Body of our heavenly King, for those who allow the entrance as an internal baptism (rebirth) of the human heart and spirit to become the Spirit’s Temple and to be known as a child of our Father in Heaven who is on a majestic Throne (just as a glorious mountain before our eyes, yet in such brightness of Light that we cannot see His Face)

but we do see the Face of God in the Son (Yeshua) who perfectly “mirrors” our Father as the exact image of His glory shared in Triune form

And we see the beautiful mystery being “unveiled” in the significance of a spiritual marriage of A new Adam & Eve with Christ (Messiah) and His Church Body (and Bride) who will rule as One in heart & mind (A pure King and Queen)

which points to the earthly significance of the marriage covenant shared between husband & wife, in the lifelong bond made between a (man & woman) when kept (guarded) in faithfulness. for we do share in a certain form of spiritual intimacy with the Lord (a closeness in the presence of Love since God is Love itself), yet of course this is not a sexual form of intimacy. but God did form the human body, in male and female, even blessing marriage with sexual intimacy that is shared as a guarded secret. our eyes are not meant for sexual images outside of this, of a spouse, nor are our bodies meant to be sexual with another when it is outside the marital bond.

surely, sex is the path to bearing children but it is also a form of human intimacy given to the marriage relationship. virginity is also a guarded “secret” to be shared with a spouse, for those who can keep it.

[adultswim2021]

Squidbillies #30: “The Appalachian Mud Squid: Darwin's Dilemma” | March 24, 2008 - 12:00AM | S03E10

This episode begins with a nature documentary about the squids, giving THIS viewer some impression that maybe this would be the entire episode. A gimmick episode, if you will, which Adult Swim has a penchant for. I also thought that maybe it would feel like some kind of unnecessary introduction to the characters and the show. When this act is premeditated and includes a significant promotional push they call that “re-piloting”. Luckily, that’s not really the case here, because the nature documentary part is brief, and what we do see of it seems sorta pointless. It turns out to have exactly one point: to establish the species of squid the Cuylers are (Appalachian Mud Squids, like the title says), and that they are endangered.

Cheers! To Squidbillies, for dispensing with the fake documentary format after it proves to operate at a laugh-deficit! But, Jeers! to Squidbillies, for ending this segment on yet another unfunny gag where the squids have murdered a human and are eating that human, as though it’s acceptable to just have your unsavory characters be psycho killers for comedic effect. I don’t think it’s offensive, it’s just like, really obvious and staid territory, especially on Adult Swim. I think I said this story once, but I once wrote on a failed TV show where the least-creative person involved in the production would constantly use the gag of “man eating another man’s corpse for no reason” as though it was the pinnacle of comedy and not just an idea that is extremely easy to think of.  

Anyway: The episode is mostly about Sheriff’s attempts to protect the squids, due to their endangered status. He puts himself in front of a Jaguar attack (more like an f-slurguar, says Early… RUDE!), and then tags the squids and invades their space to put safety locks on various cabinets whose contents may harm them. Sheriff also replaces Early bitchin’ monster truck with a safety sedan. Early immediately wraps his lips around the exhaust pipe. He’d rather be dead than drive a sensible vehicle. 

The ending of the episode involves Dan Halen hosting an endangered species hunt with some Japanese tourists. I assumed this was influenced by “Whale Wars”, the Animal Planet docuseries about the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society and their attempts to thwart Japanese whaling boats. After some light googling I discovered that the show didn’t actually debut until later in 2008. But, I’m guessing that the Sea Shepherds were getting some form of publicity and that it played some role in the writing of this episode. 

Squidbillies is continuing this season’s streak of being not particularly lovable, but respectably consistent and fairly amusing. Good for them.

EPHEMERA CORNER:

Frisky Dingo - Season One DVD (March 25, 2008)

My God! I nearly forgot to cover this. Lucky for me, I don’t have to say anything about it, really. There’s literally no extras on this at all. I guess the added value is that you have all the episodes of season one in one place, and can watch them in their proper order. That was still sorta valuable in 2008. These days, it’s only valuable in theory, provided HBOMax yanks the show offline, you can’t get a cable login for Adult Swim’s app, or you don’t know how to torrent shows.

The only true extra you could claim this has is that they were originally packaged with the prerequisite Adult Swim promo leaflet, with a listing of their other DVD releases on one side and a replica of the “Welcome to you’re ‘doom’” postcard from the series on the other. That’s fun, if you’re a Frisky Dingo megafan. I, however, am a dipshit who bought every non Robot Chicken Adult Swim show on DVD for completest reasons.

[klockolio]

Some quotations that I draw on:

Italo Calvino: “The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”

Kafka: “we are nihilistic thoughts, suicidal thoughts that rise up in god’s head. Our world is just a bad mood of god. There is infinite hope, for god — just not for us. The spiritual world is the only world. The physical world is the evil in the spiritual.”

Bertrand Russell, not a superstitious guy, has a horseshoe over his door and his friend says, incredulously, “you don’t really believe that nonsense about horseshoe’s capturing luck” and Russell says “no of course not, but I heard it works even if you don’t believe in it”

The Lion in Winter: -“As if it matters how a man falls.” –“when the fall is all he has, it matters.”

Stevens: “poetry takes the place of empty heaven and its hymnals”

Blake: “The worship of god is the worship of his gifts in other men” [people]

Blake: “The body is the visible part of the soul”

Malebranche: “Attentiveness is the natural prayer of the soul”

Rilke: “Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, that we are still able to bear and we revere it so because it calmly disdains to destroy us”

Keats: [Shakespeare possessed] “Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason… the sense of beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration”

Ruskin: “The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something and tell what it saw... Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion all in one.”

Beckett: “Art is not about something; it is that something itself”

Barthelme: “Art is not difficult because it is wishes to be difficult but because it wishes to be art,” it is trying to say “the as-yet unspeakable, the as-yet unspoken.

Thai and Vietnamese speakers when they don’t like a food don’t say “this is bad” they say “I don’t know how to eat this”

Picasso [about a napkin doodle]: “it didn’t take me five minutes to do that it took me my whole life to do that”

Shelley: “Poetry is a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard which would contain it”

Dickinson: “if I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry”

Borges: “few things have happened to me, though many things I have read; or rather few things have happened to me more memorable than Shakespeare’s verbal music.”

A Bartlett Giamatti: “its not enough that literature be relevant to students lives: students need to make themselves relevant to great literature.” [this can feel maybe like brainwashing if you do it wrong but I still think the idea is valuable; also I cannot locate this quotation]

Kafka: “A book should be an axe for the frozen sea inside us”

Ingmar Bergman: “I throw a spear into the darkness. That is intuition. Then I must send an army into the darkness to find the spear. That is intellect.”

Proust: “Anything we have not had to elucidate ourselves, anything that was clear before we came along (logical ideas, for example), does not really belong to us, we don’t even know if it’s real.”

Michelangelo: “what’s important about a sculpture is what’s left after you roll it down a hill”

Jenny Slate: “information about art and nature feels like the best stuff to have, and if you have it, it is powerful and excellent to pass it on. That is an act of power, showing what you know, giving it to another person, realizing that as you spread it, you get to keep it but watch it grow, and by watching others have it you learn new things about the original thing”

Borges: “an actor is a person who stands on a stage and pretends to be another person in front of an audience of people who take him for that person”

Cormac McCarthy: “We should all prepare a place where we can accommodate all the tragedies that sooner or later will come into our lives. But this is an economy few care to practice.”

[homelessnerdtheology]

I may be able to provide some clarity on why the Bible says it’s wrong and what God is protecting us from.

Very clearly, God has a design for marriage. One woman and one man for life. As a married person, I can say that it is a very special bond that does indeed create a picture of the relationship between Christ and the Church. As someone who struggled with some same sex attraction before I got married (if left to my own devices in the world I likely would have developed those feelings into being bisexual), it’s not the same feeling as marriage at all.

Friends can have my back through and through. A woman I, as a female, am attracted to who is also a very good friend would never be the same. I wouldn’t have the same type of teaching that I get from a husband, which leads to a very special growth.

My husband and I are equal to each other. I am *honored* as the weaker vessel, not smashed to pieces. He makes me feel like I’m that expensive, delicate piece of decoration that gets the most honored spot in the house, except so much more because it’s not in the way that you would appreciate an object. He appreciates me as a human, my humanity, my emotional intelligence, just flat intelligence.

I do not accept my husband as the “higher” individual, but rather as the stronger. He is my equal, just stronger. He teaches and loves me more than I have the opportunity to teach and love him because he is stronger. I am not less important, if anything I am more valued than he is.

A good relationship will leave the man feeling as though he is doing a good work and that he is respected, and the woman feeling like she is valuable beyond comprehension and so incredibly loved. With a same sex relationship, what happens to that beauty? Where do those feelings go? It turns into lust and simple affection, something that *can* last for awhile but it’s not the same. You can get the benefits of a friendship and a dating relationship from a same sex marriage, but not the benefits of marriage. I can’t even put into words how deep the relationship between me and my husband is after only a year of being married, and it will only grow from here. And I know that it’s deeper than any other romantic relationship.

God made us the way we are for a reason. And when we take action to go against the way that he made us, we are not only missing out on one of the most beautiful things in life, but we also create guilt and conviction if the Holy Spirit is doing a work in the person that is affected by the temptations.

Notice I emphasize taking action. Actively fantasizing, making wrong relationships, going to sites that feed the temptation, things that take more than a single passing thought. Many people struggle with sexual sin and are straight, asking many of the same questions you ask here. It may be “I don’t see anything wrong with sex before marriage” or “why is it so hard to stop lusting/masturbating/etc” but it’s the same amount of difficulty. It is a battle that goes on for years.

With all this talk about proper marriage you may be thinking that I say you should get into a heterosexual relationship and marry. Absolutely not. That is not a wise decision while you are actively struggling with a temptation and thought processes that will likely lead to a lack of affection and even cheating on that partner.

So what do I think you should do? How do we handle any kind of sexual sin, straight or not? We get away from it. We remove the things that we lust after to the best of our ability. It is so hard to struggle with any sexual sin alone, and I do hope that you can get help for the struggle you are having between God and what you feel.

One of the biggest things I have learned in marriage is that sometimes, your feelings just don’t matter. Sometimes yes, you are feeling tired and cranky and depressed for a bit but that doesn’t matter, you have chores to do and you need to have the self discipline to do them so that when the baby is born you don’t have to see them choking on the paintbrush you left on the floor. (That one is an emotional thing I have had to go through, my baby isn’t born yet but that is a situation I’ve had to think about)

Sometimes yeah, you are really horny or even feeling butterflies for all the wrong reasons and you need to ignore it because yes it’s hard, but right was never promised to be easy. Right was promised to be hard. So it is very hard, you are right about that, but God can be with you every step of the way. We just need to be willing to let go of our pride and learn how to say “Not my will but yours be done Lord” for “ the heart is wicked above all things”

The only way we can be good is by being covered with the blood of Jesus. We will fall. Over and over again. But we can always have a Father in heaven who loves us as long as we genuinely want to change and follow Him above all else.

May you find peace on your journey and someone who will be honest rather than easy to listen to, and may God grant you the strength to follow Him well because none of us can do it without Him. And I do hope you understand that I do not see your homosexuality with judgment, but rather I see you with love and see the homosexuality as separate from you. No sin should be seen as the identity of a person, because that causes unnecessary blame and harsher words than are adequate. I sincerely hope this helps you with the things that you are struggling with and doesn’t cause harm

Ok, im a little pissed.

I’m gonna go on a rant here.

Tw for religious topics, homosexuality, homophobia.

People always tell me to love who you want, homosexuality is normal. It’s in nature.

But from what I can gather, the Bible clearly states that homosexuality is not alright. It is a sin. And you are no longer with god.

But like, why tho?

Why can’t the Bible be more obvious about what’s it’s trying to tell? Instead of leaving me scared and confused for my identity gay.

I like women, I always have. There was always something about my attraction to males that confused me. Why can’t two men date?

The Bible says that it’s a sin, and shouldn’t be normalized or practiced. But I don’t see anything wrong with it.

People say that you can’t control your sexuality. You are simply born with it, you are created with it in your spirit.

The Bible states that we are sinful by nature. And we always will be.

Something about the Bible always confused me. Like, in what way, should women be forced to accept men as the higher individual?

I want to date who I want. Love who I want. But apparently that’s giving in to the bad.

I know trying to repent from your sins is hard. But why is it this hard? Why is being attracted to the same gender a problem. It’s not fair. I wish it was more straightforward. I wish we had a clearer understanding and message to what we are supposed to complete in life.

I love gay couples. They make me so, so happy. But apparently that’s sin. Apparently I’m not supposed to be happy. Apparently I’m supposed to follow rules. We are all supposed to follow rules. And we do. Is god trying to keep us safe? Even if we are bored, it’s better to be safe. Is hell really bad? The Bible explains it as eternal fire, where you are tortured for your sins with no end. No second chance. Just pain. Nothing else. All you can do is burn and think about the life you had before. And wish you listened and regret everything you have ever done. But what if it’s not like that? What if we can be ourselves there? Nobody knows! Am I supposed to sit around and play along? Listen to everything the Bible has stated? Just going straight into my life having no control over it whatsoever? Or do I wanna be free? Be happy? Do what I want! Even if it has a consequence! Do I wanna risk it all? Do I wanna spend my life the way I want? Just to be burned for it? Why couldn’t you give us a more clear answer? So we really know what we are getting into!

Rules keep us safe, even if it isn’t fun! Is that what god ist trying to do? Keep us safe? For the better? But we have no way to know!

If he is, then why does it have to be so hard? Why can he help us to the right path? Why are there no answers? And so many opportunities to do bad?! Is this some kind of game to him?! Does he find joy watching us argue. The Bible says he cares. But why doesn’t it feel like that?

Is it like how we are to our pets? Do we obey them and when we don’t, we get yelled at and punished. We just want what’s best for our pets! And that’s what god wants for us! But it’s so hard! I should not sound so self centered!

Ots clear what god what’s from us! It’s clear that he’s trying to keep us safe! But why is it so hard to listen! Why is it so hard to obey! Why isn’t it easier? If homosexuality is sin, then so many people I love are doomed! And possibly myself! I would want to burn with the people instead of be alone

It’s not fair! I want to be myself! But is that really me? I feel like anything I could do could ruin me! I feel unsafe writing this as if god can strike me down for just stating this.

Im low key gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.

Im terrified of what I am to become. I just don’t get it and I’m too scared to live In the moment. I can’t help that I do this. I can’t stop overthinking. I just want to be alright. Why isnt it easier.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

*****************

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

It's Going To Be You

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Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

—————————————————–

Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

-

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

-

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

-

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

-

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

-

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

-

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

-

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.

[academicdisasterfic]

Letters in Transition, 23 May 2022

A collaborative correspondence between @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm and I, inspired by our encounters with fic as queer, trans boys. Letters, words and art exchanged at the start of an unrestrained life.

Previous entries can be found here. In this letter I reference freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1

Dear Joy,

I could try and fail for all eternity to express how proud I am of you for coming out to your parents; you are my constant and relentless inspiration, one of the bravest humans I know. I couldn’t possibly start this letter without telling you that.

My god, it’s been a month. I don’t really know where to start. It should be impossible to feel so much, for so many emotions to exist in one space. 

I’m in my new city! I’m in a new home! I have bought bedsheets and cleaning supplies and plants; I have applied for jobs; I have at least three whole friends here (two of them are my housemates and the other I met through fandom, but it still counts). It’s a pretty decent start.

I also went on a road trip earlier this month with two of my best friends. They flew all the way from the States to come and see me, and that in itself is enough to cripple me with emotion. But they also liked me.

In freely, as men strive for right, it takes Draco over fifteen years of marriage to let Harry tell him not just that he loves him, but why he loves him. And even at the end of the story, he doesn’t fully comprehend it; but he allows it, allows Harry to have his own feelings.

I don’t like myself. I wish I did. I wish I felt like a good ghost, as you say; able to fill out all of my complicated edges with some neat, easily defined lines. 

The only time I ever saw my ex truly furious was when she threw a towel across the room and screamed, ‘Why don’t you believe that I love you? What will it take?’

Obviously we didn’t last, so I suppose I never really believed her. It’s a particular kind of cruelty to not believe your loved ones, to not trust them, and I absolutely despise it about myself; don’t know what sort of monster builds a wall that impenetrable, that vast.

I’ve never allowed the people around me to love me without demanding reasons, justifications, testing their limits as far as I can.

Except, apparently, with these two humans; who told me repeatedly and incessantly, from the moment they landed, that I was not just loved, but loved because I was funny, kind, smart, valuable. 

Perhaps it was my Draco moment, a necessary letting go of the narratives I’ve spun for so many years; perhaps I don’t believe them, but I can let them believe it. I can let them think I’m good. I can let them tell me, and maybe let them fill out my ghostliness, let that love make me a better person.

I was distraught when they left. Not just because I knew I’d miss them—and I do, as if two parts of my heart are gone—but because I’ve never let people in like that before. And, rather selfishly, I wondered whether I’d be able to do that with anyone else.

I’m trying to. I’m trying to think of Draco, sending Harry into fits of anxiety because he won’t simply let Harry give him love. I’m trying to remember that no matter how much I convince myself otherwise, there are actual people who care about me, and it hurts them when I reject their love, when I dismiss how they feel about me, feelings as valid as my own.

I’m trying to be the person who gives, rather than takes. 

This is a very self-indulgent letter, perhaps not directly about being trans, but I think in a way it really is.

I think I didn’t acknowledge my transness for a long time, because to acknowledge it would allow love in with such greater ease. 

I’ve never been able to love like I do now. It’s as painful and as joyous as I always imagined it being. It's torturous and wonderful and I feel alive, like every cell in my body was built for it.

You can't love like that hiding behind a wall. Maybe I was never a monster, or at least not a bad one; I just needed to see what laid on the other side.

I hope you're feeling at home. I hope you know I love you for a list of reasons so long they wouldn't fit on a page.

I'm thinking of you,

Rooney x

[kanaesparadise]

How would the valo agents react to s/o surprising them with Romance (roses petals on the bed, candles, chocolate dipped cherries, the works)?

Ok i can write this but it would be bad because i'm not a romantic person and i don't know much about stuff like that. I tried to write as many characters as I could, I hope you like it dear <3

Sage

-Sage isn't used to this kind of thing and she would be quite surprised if you did, but she would be really happy if you did something for her.

-She may not be able to romanticize the way you do, but she tries to do things with you that she likes to do.

-You can have tea with Sage in the garden of the base, or she can take you to a nice place where you can have a picnic alone before sunset.

-Even though she doesn't like extravagance, she would be grateful to you for the effort you put into her.

Killjoy

-Killjoy is a very busy woman and she doesn't want to waste her time on this type of romance.

-Under normal circumstances, it's pretty easy to keep Killjoy happy. You just need to say a few nice words of encouragement and make frequent physical contact with her.

-She has enough time for little things like this anyway. If she has that much time, she would rather hug you and sleep. That's why she doesn't like big events and surprises.

-No matter what, even though she doesn't like what you do under normal circumstances, she tries to keep up with you as much as possible.

-She really doesn't want you to feel bad for doing something for her.

-"Oh, thanks for all of these thing sweetie but can't we just cuddle and sleep together? Sleeping with you is enough for me."

Viper

-She would openly tell you that she finds such things unnecessary.

-Although Viper is not as busy as other agents, she is a woman of simplicity. Instead of these romantic surprises you will do, she can spare time for something better.

-But she wouldn't have told you that in such a rude way, she cares about your feelings no matter what.

-"I don't like surprises like this, but thank you for your effort, dear. How about something to eat outside?"

-If you persistently ask her to look at everything you have prepared, she will fulfill your request, even if for an hour, because she cannot break you.

Reyna

-Reyna finds everything you prepare for her very cute.

-Reyna is a woman who likes luxury and she has a really unique stance. Usually, no one can predict how Reyna will react, so you thought you were actually taking a risk while making these plans.

-But Reyna didn't think so. No matter how much she disliked something, you were very precious for her. In order to make Reyna love something, it will be enough to do what you are trying to make her like. She finds your effort very cute.

-"Aww, thank you darling. You're really so sweet~"

Jett

-Jett doesn't quite know how to react to this kind of romantic stuff, but her eyes will sparkle if you make some good snacks for her.

-"Oh. My. God. These chocolates are legendary! How well my precious darling knows her girlfriend!"

-If you want to feed her yourself, she will eat from your hand without any objection.

-Even she might like it.

-She will definitely do something to make up for it. She will most likely try to put together everything you love in one day.

-Although she was embarrassed by your other romantic gestures, she would act as if she thanked you frequently during the day.

-"Thank you babe, you don't need to do all of these things for me."

Omen

-He could hardly react to your preparations, as he could hardly remember human feelings anymore.

-He tries to be as polite as possible, if he unintentionally says something hurtful, be sure he did it unconsciously.

-He would be very happy if you did something with the knitting techniques he taught you. Using something he happily shows you makes him emotional.

-He may not be able to figure out why some of the things you have prepared for him were made, but he will not say anything because he is afraid of misunderstanding and hurt you.

-Instead, he stares at that thing for a long time.

-When you tell him everything, he will be grateful to you for seeing him so valuable.

-"Thank you so much (Y/N) for treating me like I'm still a human being. My only fear is to lose a precious person like you."

Cypher

-He thinks that he is too old for such activities, but if you have worked for him, he will not let you down.

-He can only make annoying jokes sometimes but not the kind of jokes that will hurt you.

-While you show him everything excitedly, he listens to you smiling under his mask.

-He'd take off his hat and lay it on your head when you'd shown Cypher everything and then turned to see how he would react. He would take off his mask and kiss you passionately.

-"Thank you for everything darling. You're really very considerate of me."

Yoru

-Yoru finds most romantic things absurd. According to him, there are much better activities that you can do together.

-He may have a slightly negative reaction at first, but when he sees you are upset, he suppresses his own thoughts for a while and just listens to you.

-Even if he doesn't like these kinds of things, seeing your excitement makes him smile.

-"I think this kind of romantic stuff is unnecessary- I'M SORRY I DID NOT MEAN IT, IT'S ALL SO GOOD! God, you can be so scary when you want to."

-If you get angry with him, then he doesn't say a word and listens to you.

-He actually likes it secretly, he's just embarrassed.

Phoenix

-He would be abnormally happy. He would be very emotional because no one gave him such surprises.

-Because he loves surprises and likes to surprise his other friends.

-It doesn't matter what you do for him, just caring for him and preparing something is enough to make Phoenix happy.

-"My beautiful angel is the best lover in the world! I can't believe you're trying to do this much for me! This is all just for me, right? I won't share it with others, only you~"

KAY/O

-He couldn't understand why you did all these things.

-"I don't understand why you did all this. Is today a special day or something? If so, why didn't the other agents come?"

-You need to explain him why you do all of this. After you explain he try to understand this acts.

-"If I'm right, you do these things for me, right? And its name is affection or romance."

-After explaining everything to him, he would be quite surprised. He was a robot, he didn't understand why you were treating him the way people are treated. But deep down, he had a deep affection for you, and he was sure of it.

-So at least Killjoy told him it was true.

-It would be like Omen, but more curious about these things and more trying to learn. Only for you!

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

[thunderheadfred]

🐈‍Aizawa HC’s🐈‍

I dunno if people will care for this; I suspect my HC's for Aizawa are a little off the fandom norm. Still. I tried. Things get approximately NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

He has like, one discernible change of clothes per season. There is no distinction between hero outfit, casual wear, and pajamas. That fabric used to be black. It is now an exhausted shade of ‘please stop washing me.’ If you suggest that he buy new clothes, he will stare you down like you have three heads, and none of those heads have a brain.

This man does not spend money. He has a mind-blowing amount of savings, but no one will ever know until he dies and wills it all to a random animal shelter in the middle of nowhere. Has a secret scholarship fund for UA students. Again, this is completely anonymous. Only the principal knows.

He's a startlingly competent sketch artist. Nothing fancy, and he never took an art class in his life, but his quirk innately lends itself to spacial reasoning and feature recognition. He has sketch books brimming with sloppy but pin-point accurate life drawings. He can capture your soul in three strokes of a dried-up ballpoint pen. It's eerie.

Given his schedule, you’d expect him to prioritze convenience first, but junk food makes him cross-eyed. His body is a temple and he eats like a fucking monk.

He’s a wine snob. Well, a liquor snob generally. He knows the name of every regional sake-maker in Japan, and can tell you exactly which bottle is the best, down the the month of production. Assumes everyone possesses such laser-focused knowledge.

Tea drinker. Yeah, he has encyclopedic knowledge about that too. Apparently everything this man drinks comes with a bibliography.

Technically he’s supposed to live in the UA dorms part of the time. He sleeps poorly there, and goes home whenever he has the opportunity.

His house is old, but not valuable. Probably inherited. Traditional style with very few modern updates. He keeps it meticulously clean and does repairs as needed, but the age is still obvious. Everything creaks. You swear the place is haunted but won’t dare admit it aloud - he WILL laugh you out of the house.

There’s a garden but he doesn’t have time to keep it up. He has a lot of memories of the plants in full bloom. Letting it go to seed upsets him more than he lets on.

He has zero personal possessions aside from household appliances, which he meticulously researches and keeps in perfect condition.

Reads an insane amount of books. These mostly come from the library. There’s always a stack near his bed. You have no idea how he finishes them, because every time you see him with a book, he’s asleep with it on his face.

He doesn’t adopt cats so much as just leaves his doors open and lets them freely colonize the place. It’s not his house, it’s theirs. Somehow there's not a single cat hair on anything.

Most of these cats are cuddly little angels; you've never met nicer. But there’s a few beasts in the mix, with battle scars and three legs and a craving for human meat; these are Aizawa’s special favorites.

- - - - -

Dating

Falls for you when he stumbles across you taking care of one of the hideous strays he usually feeds on his route. Doesn’t approach you at first (definitely tries to hide) but the cat is like "mrrr?" and brings you over to him, giving the game away. Traitor.

Will make you pay for your half of everything, down to the last yen. So what if you’ve been together for ten years? You have your own income.

One exception to the above: he’ll never buy you presents but he WILL treat you to lavish meals in dark restaurants with hand-written menus. Don’t mistake this for romance, he just likes the quiet atmosphere and excellent service.

He cleans every day; there’s an unwritten five-dimensional schedule and that schedule is EXACT. Zero time wasted. He’ll never actually ask you to help with any of it. He’ll never directly thank you, either. But if you learn how to take over certain chores and do the daily upkeep while he’s away, he’ll love you forever.

Not the type to talk about his day; he’d rather sit with you outside. He values silence. Not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, but a lot of the time he doesn’t have the energy to give you his full conversational attention. Physical contact is easier, and more comforting besides. Just... hold his hand a while.

His scalp gets tingly and sore from overusing his quirk. If you run your fingers through his hair he will pass out instantly.

He will cozy trap you. He’s touch-starved and was definitely a cat in a past life. Will hang all over you if you don't give him enough attention and constantly falls sleep in your lap. Hope you don’t need to get up anytime soon; he’s not moving.

You don’t exactly ‘move in’ with him. He never wants to spend a night without you, but his living space is already exactly how he likes it. He will never move out of that old house, but he’ll give you some rooms to yourself. Your stuff and his... complete absence of stuff... stay pretty much separate. Do NOT clutter up the bedroom.

The kitchen is the exception. That's a warm and cozy shared spot, the heart of the home. You’ll always be stepping around a cat.

He LOVES when you cook for him (so that he doesn't have to take the time). Will shower you with praise and encourage you to make huge earthenware vats of old-timey tsukemono that the two of you cannot possibly eat by yourselves. He’ll help with food prep and knows his way around, but he insists you’re the better cook (even if you aren’t).

Big on actions over words. Makes an effort to be present with you as much as he can.

Will stare into your eyes until you look away. When you look back, he's still staring with a rare warm smile on his face.

God, he loves you. You will never, ever know how much. He doesn't tell you often, but he shows you every day.

- - - - -

Somnophilia???.........

ACE ACE ACE ACE

This man is A-fucking-sexual. He’s not sex repulsed in any way, he’s just not personally invested.

Aromantic too. Deadass doesn’t get the hype. You are the most important person in his life and he’s deeply commited to and comforted by you. Just don’t expect to be seduced; it will literally never happen.

If you are allosexual, he will still be devoted to your sexual well-being. At first, that means buying you a DELUXE toy and encouraging you to use it on your own.

His voice is too damn sexy, even when he isn’t trying. He’ll give you all the phone sex you want; he thinks it’s sweet how you unravel for him. Edging you for ages is a fun little power play, but he’s definitely grading papers while he does it. Don’t be offended. Toshinori has overheard some THINGS.

When your relationship gets sufficiently serious, he’ll help out with his hands. He’s VERY SKILLED AT IT. He likes to lay down next to you and whisper encouragement in your ear. Eventually he gets possessive about your orgasms, and will make you ask for permission.

Sometimes the stars align, but his arousal is a rare bird. He'll take a whole afternoon to prepare. It’s love-making, full stop. Always slow and intensely emotional. He'll cherish every inch of you but might not cum at all; you can’t force it.

[savior-of-humanity]

hauntsect​:

“Oh, you’re worried as to the contents here? You should not be!” Cheerfully, the man speaks, twirling the syringe only slightly. Though seeing him act so apprehensive towards the tool did make him feel a slight tinge of delight, a smile kept pristine.

“This liquid here is good for you, rest assured. You needn’t know the intricacies of it.” Another virus? A vaccine? Both? Something else entirely? He’d keep his mouth shut as to the details, for now. “After all, it’d be a waste to lose such a fine specimen. Do you not know just how valuable you truly are… alive?”

The Monarch pauses, keeping careful fingers over the other’s neck. He appreciated the restraints on him, knowing himself lucky not to have to wrestle with a man that had weathered much and more than he could ever begin to imagine. The needle approaches, slowly penetrating the man’s skin. It sunk carefully, in a straight diagonal line.

“Now, take a deep breath for me, will you? That way, it will not hurt.” Or rather, it’d hurt less… Second by careful second, he pushes on the top of the syringe, allowing for the liquid to slowly seep into the body. His eyes pay close attention to the reactions of Leon, hoping not to go completely overboard. After all, though called a liquid that would potentially help him, every other test subject had low tolerance for even small dosages of it. Despite that, he trusted Leon to be better than the rest – he knew him to be, so he’d push his limits… for as long as he could.

Ah, yes. Because of course the man who was likely behind his kidnapping knew what was best for him. Leon clenched his jaw at the idea of him being considered valuable - let alone him being seen as nothing more than just a specimen. Not a human being, but some thing to be poked and prodded at and split open to study just what made him tick.

He gave a testing tug with one of his arms - no luck. The restraints that held him still didn’t budge even the slightest. His hands curled into tight fists, hissing slightly at the feeling of the needle piercing skin, of whatever was in the syringe being injected straight into some vein in his neck.

He wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact that he didn’t know what it was, or the fact that he could feel it in his blood as an icy cold sensation, creeping through his flesh like watercolor paint on an empty canvas.

Moments passed, and aside from the uncomfortable feeling of ice settling in his veins, nothing happened. Obviously, Leon didn’t know what the effects of the liquid he’d just been injected with was supposed to do, but he’d been expecting some  immediate result - why else would he be strapped down, aside from keeping him from attacking his captor?

“I don’t think your serum’s working as intended, doc.” Leon quipped sarcastically. Rather, he would have, because he was abruptly cut off mid-sentence by the sense of his entire nervous system starting to burn.

It wasn’t world-destroying agony, but it was not pleasant whatsoever. It felt as though someone had taken a bucket of liquid nitrogen and boiling magma and poured them simultaneously straight into his blood. Even with the restraints holding him down, the agent tensed up; eyes screwed shut, teeth bared, a low groan of pain escaping his clenched jaw as he tried to ride out the pain of fire and ice in his veins, of his muscles spasming, of his skin crawling like it was about to become alive and peel itself off of his own god damn body.