#we can tie the rest of eden in too i think

[cryptidm0ths]

Once again thinking about the enstars tma au bc its euu difficult to draw

But alkaloid as the main archive squad tatsuni as our dear archivist mayo getting absorbed into it is too close aira recording the notthem on his phone and hiiro looking for his brother whos been missing since a house fire and leaving a trail of destruction, rinne fully given to the desolation teaming up with niki a fairly normal guy only a little tempted by something in between the hunt and the flesh and our dearest himeru who the stranger came too easier than breathing, featuring kohakus gradual fall into the hunt

[thedragonscratch]

Hi there Ren, it's been a little while, did you miss me?

You thought you'd buried me, didn't you? Risky

'Cause I always come back, deep down, you know that

Deep down, you know I'm always in the periphery

Ren, aren't you pleased to see me?

It's been weeks since we spoke bro, I know you need me

You're the sheep, I'm the shepherd, not your place to lead me

Not your place to be biting off the hand that feeds me

Hi Ren, I've been taking some time to be distant

I've been taking some time to be still

I've been taking some time to be by myself

Since my therapist told me I'm ill

And I've been making some progress lately

And I've learnt some new coping skills

So I haven't really needed you much, man

I think we need to just step back and chill

Ren, you sound more insane than I do

You think that those doctors are really there to guide you?

You've been through this a million times

Your civilian mind is so perfect at always being lied to

Okay, take another pill boy

Drown yourself in the sound of white noise

Follow this ten-step program, rejoice

All your problems will be gone! Fuckin' dumb boy

Nah, mate, this time it's different, man, trust me

I feel like things might be falling in place

And my music's been kinda doing bits too

Like I actually might do something great

And when I'm gone, maybe I'll be remembered

For doing something special with myself

That's why I don't think that we should talk, man

'Cause when you're with me, it never seems to help

You think that you can amputate me?

I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we

We are one, split in two that makes one, so you see

You got to kill you if you wanna kill me

I'm not left over dinner, I'm not scraps on the side

Oh, your music is thriving? Delusional guy

Where's your top ten hit? Where's your interview with Oprah?

Where are your Grammies, Ren? Nowhere!

Yeah but, my music's not commercial like that

I never chased numbers, statistics or stats

I never write hooks for the radio, they never even play me

So why would I concern myself with that?

But my music is really connecting

And the people who find it, respect it

And for me, that's enough 'cause this life's been tough

So it gives me a purpose I can rest in

Man, you sound so pretentious

Ren, your music is so self-centred

No one wants to hear another song about

How much you hate yourself, trust me

You should be so lucky, having me inside you to guide you

Remind you to manage expectations

Provide you perspective, that thing you neglected, I get it

You wanna be a big deal, next Jimi Hendrix? Forget it

Man, it's not like that

Man it's just like that, I'm inside you, you twat

No, it's not man, you're wrong, when I write, I belong

Let me break the fourth wall by acknowledging this song

Ren sits down, has a stroke of genius

He wants to write a song that was not done previous

A battle with his subconscious, Eminem did it

Played on guitar, Plan B did it

Man, you're not original, you criminal, rip-off artist

The pinnacle of your success is stealing other people's material

Ren, mate, we've heard it all before

Uh, "she sells seashells on the sea shore"

Fuck you, I don't need you, I don't need to hear this

'Cause I'm fine by myself, I'ma genius

And I will be great, and I will make waves

And I'll shake up the whole world beneath us

That's right, speak your truth, your fuckin' God complex leaks out of you

It's refreshing to actually hear you say it instead of downplay it

"Ugh, music Is all about the creative process and if people can find

Something to relate to within that, then that's just a bonus"

Fuck you, I'ma fuckin' kill you, Ren

Well fuckin' kill me then, let's fuckin' have you Ren

I'm a do it, watch me prove it, who are you to doubt my music?

'Cause I call the shots. I choose if you die

Yeah, I call the shots, and so I who choose who survives

I'll tie you up in knots when I'll lock you inside

News flash

I was created at the dawn of creation

I am temptation, I am the snake in Eden

I am the reason for treason, beheading all Kings

I am sin with no rhyme or reason

Sun of the morning, Lucifer, antichrist

Father of lies, Mestophilies

Truth in a blender, deceitful pretender

The banished avenger, the righteous surrender

When standing in-front of my solar eclipse

My name it is stitched to your lips, so, you see

I won't bow to the will of a mortal, feeble and normal

You wanna kill me? I'm enteral, immortal

I live in every decision that catalysed chaos

That causes division

I live inside death, the beginning of ends

I am you, you are me, I am you, Ren

Hi Ren, I've been taking some time to be distant

I've been taking some time to be still

I've been taking some time to be by myself

And I've spent half my life ill

But just as sure as the tide starts turning

Just as sure as the night has dawn

Just as sure as rainfall soon runs dry

When you stand in an eye of the storm

I was made to be tested and twisted

I was made to be broken and beat

I was made by His hand, it's all part of His plan

That I stand on my own two feet

And you know me, my will is eternal

And you know me, you've met me before

Face to with a beast, I will rise from the east

And I'll settle on the ocean floor

And I go by many names also

Some people know me as "hope"

Some people know me as the voice that you hear

When you loosen the noose on the rope

And you know how I know how I know that I'll prosper?

'Cause I stand here beside you today

I have stood in the flames that cremated my brain

And I didn't once flinch or shake

So cower at the man I've become, when I sing from the top of my lungs

That I won't retire, I'll stand in your fire, inspire the weak to be strong

And when I am gone, I will rise, in the music that I left behind

Ferocious persistent, immortal like you, we're a coin with two different sides

When I was 17 years old, I shouted out into an empty room

Into a blank canvas, that I would defeat the forces of evil

And for the next 10 years of my life, I suffered the consequences

With autoimmunity, illness, and psychosis

As I got older, I realised that there were no real winners

And there were no real losers in physiological warfare

But there were victims and there were students

It wasn't David versus Goliath, it was a pendulum

Eternally swayin' from the dark to the light

And the more intensely that the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast

It was never really a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance

And like a dance, the more rigid I became, the harder it got

The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more I struggled

So I got older and I learned to relax

And I learned to soften and that dance got easier

It is this eternal dance that separates human beings

From angels, from demons, from gods

And I must not forget, we must not forget

That we are human beings

[seventeen362]

listen i get saying taylor is gay but you HAVE to remember Wildebro was the one who wrote it. it explains all of that. as a guy, i can confirm we usually do not understand women. i have a female friend who thinks constantly holding hands, touching all the time, and actual kissing is not romantic. taylor being straight made complete sense to me when i was reading, because i don’t have any real reference for her behavior.

No amount of askreddit posts or questions to friends are going to fill that knowledge gap. at least for me.

Idk this is going to be kind of a rant.

But after Taylor kisses rachel during the miasma, rachel is not good with that. In her own rachel way, of course, but she is still very unhappy about that turn of events.

How does this translate thematically? rachel is loyal, explicitly *like a dog is loyal to its owner*. so what is this thematically?

people have made arguments that there were plenty of other ways to do the fluid transfer, but how many of those would’ve actually worked?

It’s specifically fluid-to-fluid transfer. putting it on her skin would’ve been too slow, and with rachel being rachel, taylor putting a bug in her mouth or something might have actually accelerated rachel’s willingness to kill her, parasite or not.

what about with tattletale? thematically they’re kinda-siblings, kinda-parent/child, kinda-friends, kinda-a secret fourth thing. tattletale specifically treats taylor the way she does because her brother committed suicide and she doesn’t want to see that happen again.

i’m not sure about yall, but i don’t think lisa shares that kind of similarity with amy.

this has the same vibe as people digging a few inches deep into brian’s character, seeing “lol larping as 40yo” and ignoring the several feet left to dig there. There’s a lot to see here, and the narrative theming goes a lot beyond “lol larping as 40yo”. Okay, what does it say that brian had to be an actual supervillain to support the rest of that lifestyle? what does it mean in the context of him always having some part of his trigger immortalized? is his desire to be just Some Guy his compensating for the fear he felt? how does that relate to him lying to the group about his trigger? how does it thematically tie in with imp’s trigger happening to begin with?

and that’s just one example!!!

there’s so much more depth to this stuff than “lol larping as 40yo man” or “haha lesbians kiss”. don’t even get me started on how many more parallels there are between eden’s crash and annette’s that people just… miss. there’s so much to analyze there. i get that most of the worm fandom isn’t interested in actually engaging with the source material, but still. it irks me.

rant over

oh dear

[karmic-vibes]

If I Can Dream

6 - All My Brothers Walk Hand-in-Hand

cw: gender dysphoria, misgendering/misuse of pronouns, mentions of deadname, use of f slur

Year: 1985

“Oh, god, Steve!” Eddie moaned.

“Shh, you’re gonna get us caught!” Steve hissed.

He placed a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth to help drown his noises out. He was fucking Eddie senseless in his bed while both his parents were downstairs. They were supposed to be getting ready for Steve’s graduation, but the two boys had other plans.

“Steve? You okay in there?” His mother chirped as she knocked on the door. Steve halted mid-thrust, hand pressed over Eddie’s mouth, both frozen in shear panic. “Steve?”

“I-I’m fine, mom! Just getting dressed!”

“Are you sure, honey? I heard you yell.”

“Yeah, I tripped. I’m fine, I’ll be down in a bit!”

“Alright, hurry it up. We have to be at school in an hour.”

“Okay!”

Once they heard her footsteps descend the staircase, Steve picked up his thrusts again.

“Don’t, shit, don’t worry about me, honey. Just fin– god, fuck! Hmm…” Eddie bit his tongue so he wouldn’t be too loud and blow their cover. “Just finish so we can go.”

“You sure?” Steve whispered.

“Mhmm, c’mon, baby.” Steve quickly kissed his boyfriend as he thrusted harder.

“I’ll make it up to you, honey.”

“Oh, I know you w-ill, fuck…”

The boys wrapped up their session in a few minutes time, and started getting ready. Steve threw on a suit his mom had dry cleaned and Eddie put on the jeans and flannel he wore to Steve’s house.

“I feel like a dweeb,” Steve said as he stared at his reflection.

“Because you are.” Eddie wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and rested his chin on his shoulder. “You may be a dweeb, but you’re cute.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Eddie walked around and straightened out Steve’s tie for him. “Maybe lose the jacket. I feel like it’ll be too bulky under the gown.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah…” Eddie slid it off his shoulders.

“Don’t tease me, Munson, or I won’t make it to graduation at all.”

“Maybe that’s the plan, Harrington. Maybe you’ll just have to walk with me next year instead.”

“I’m still upset you’re not graduating with me.”

“Eh, it’s fine. I didn’t last year and I’m not this year. Third times the charm, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s reminds me…” Steve walked over to his closet, pulling his letterman jacket from the depths of it. “Can you keep this warm for me while I’m gone from Hawkins High?”

“Stevie… you’re giving me your letterman?”

“Yeah, of course. Put it on.” Eddie eagerly put on the jacket and stared at himself in the mirror. “God, I love seeing you in my clothes. You always look so sexy.”

“Harrington,” Eddie warned. “Behave, big boy. I already let you finish in me today. What more do you want?”

“Don’t make me answer that question.” Steve kissed up Eddie’s neck a few times before going to put on his graduation gown.

“Oh, how handsome…” Eddie tutted his tongue. “Come on before your parents kill me for making you late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Eddie stared at him, opening his mouth to make a remark. “Don’t you dare.”

“You make it so easy though, Stevie.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

The ceremony was nothing special—a few people made some painfully dull speeches, people got their degrees, and the stupid green graduation caps were thrown. Once everything concluded, the graduates headed into the crowd to meet up with their families. Eddie ran towards his boyfriend and practically leapt into his arms. Steve hoisted him up around his waist, Eddie’s legs tightly wrapped around him, head buried in the crook of his neck.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

“Thank you, baby…” A tear dripped down Steve’s cheek, thinking (for a brief moment) that his boyfriend would never get to experience the same joy.

“Okay, okay, break it up, you two,” Mrs. Harrington chuckled.

“But Pattie, I’m just so proud of him,” Eddie whined, holding Steve impossibly closer.

“We are too, which is why you need to share our son, Eden.”

The name bit—burned even—to hear. Eddie screwed his eyes shut, holding his tears back, as he hopped out of Steve’s grip. Steve gently rubbed Eddie’s back, trying to comfort him the best he could in the moment.

“Mom, we went over this. He– she doesn’t like to be called that.”

Eddie turned his head away from the Harrington’s—they were the last people he ever wanted seeing him cry. He knew that Steve needed to use the incorrect pronouns in front of his parents, but it still hurt to hear them, nonetheless. It was so natural to Steve; addressing Eddie by his proper name and pronouns. His parents, however, were far from doing the same.

“I’m not calling her a man’s name. Not very feminine, now is it, dear?”

“Pattie, what about me screams feminine?” Eddie snapped.

“Ed–“

“No, what is it? Truly, what about me—anything about me—says that I’m feminine?”

“You’re a girl, dear, that’s just how it works.”

“It’s not worth it,” Steve whispered. Eddie bit the insides of his cheeks, holding back his temper for Steve’s sake.

Steve insisted on going back home with Eddie, much to his parents’ dismay. Once the two were back in the trailer, Eddie started screaming, tears of fury running down his face.

“Steve, that was so humiliating! How-How could you tell me it’s not worth it? It’s who I am!”

“I understand that, and I love you for who you are, but my parents are ignorant, Ed. They won’t understand.”

“Make them!”

“How?”

“Tell them about me. Educate them, for Christ’s sake! Make them not be ignorant.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Steve scoffed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie spat.

“What?”

“You’re treating this like it’s some kind of joke.”

“I don’t mean to! It’s just my parents can be assholes. You know that.”

“And?”

“And I live under their roof, Ed. They still have some control over me. If I tell them and they disapprove, then–“

“Then you come live with me.”

“Eddie…”

“I’m serious, Steve. If you love me then you’ll tell them. You’ll make them stop using Eden and the wrong fucking pronouns. It’s degrading.”

“Fine, I’ll tell them. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Good… sorry…”

“It’s okay, big boy. As long as you stand by your word, there won’t be a problem.”

“Is that a threat, Munson?” Steve teased.

“When isn’t it, Harrington?”

The following morning, when Steve headed home to grab a fresh pair of clothes, his parents were at the dining room table finishing up breakfast.

“Morning,” Steve said.

“Morning, sweetie,” Pattie chirped. “Sleep well?”

“Mhmm.”

“How’s Eden?”

“I told you, he doesn’t like to be called that.”

“He?” Mr. Harrington quirked a brow and lowered his newspaper.

“Yeah… he…”

“I-I don’t understand,” Pattie stuttered.

“Mom, dad… Eden isn’t Eden. He’s Eddie.”

“You’re dating a man?” Mr. Harrington angrily stood up from the table and approached his son. Steve swallowed hard as his father approached him.

“Yes, dad, I am. He-He’s trans, so yes, at some point he was Eden, but now he’s Eddie.”

“So she’s still a girl?” Mr. Harrington spat.

“No, he’s a guy.”

“So, even if we play into this nonsense and say that she is a man–“

“He, dad, Christ!”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that you’re dating someone who is claiming to be a man.”

“And?”

“I didn’t know my son was a–“

“Don’t you dare finish that thought, John,” Pattie warned. “Steve, honey, we’re just… shocked is all. First you say your girlfriend isn’t really your girlfriend anymore, then you say you like men. It’s a lot to process.”

“Eddie’s trans and I’m bi. Not sure what’s so hard to grasp about that.”

“I didn’t raise a fag,” John spat.

“Well, turns out, you did,” Steve grit his teeth. “I love him. He’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

“I’m not calling her whatever she wants to be called. She’s Eden, Steve. Do you understand?”

“Either you call him by his proper name or you’ll never see me again. Are we clear?”

“If you cut yourself off, you can kiss your trust fund goodbye, Steven.”

“I’d rather be happy and broke with him, than miserable and rich with you two. Make up your minds. I’m grabbing some clothes and heading back out. Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

And with that, he stormed up to his room and gathered what he needed for the coming weekend. He haphazardly tossed everything into a spare duffel bag before running back down the stairs.

“Bye.”

“Steven,” Pattie called.

“What?”

“Just… be safe?”

“When am I not? Bye.”

He stormed out the front door, racing to his car. He sped out of the driveway and back to Eddie’s house. When he returned, Eddie was still fast asleep in bed. It warmed Steve’s heart to see him resting so peacefully. Before he could wake up, Steve decided to make the two of them breakfast (along with some extras for Wayne when he woke up later in the day). As Steve was setting the table, Eddie trudged into the dining area, rubbing his eyes and pushing his crazed hair out of his face.

“‘S all this?” he mumbled.

“I made breakfast. We have pancakes, some scrambled eggs, and some bacon. I know it’s not much, but it’ll definitely do. Sit, honey.”

Steve pulled Eddie’s chair out for him and carefully pushed him back in to the table. Eddie raised a brow at his boyfriend, who was usually never this chipper in the morning.

“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing, just wanted to show how much I appreciate you.”

“What’d you do?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re guilty of something. What’d you do?”

“Literally nothing, Eddie. I stopped by my parent’s house to grab some stuff and was already pretty awake when I came back. Figured I’d put my energy to use. C’mere.”

Steve set down his cooking utensils and pulled Eddie’s messy hair back into a ponytail, stealing the hairband off Eddie’s wrist. When his hair was secured, he went back to setting the table. Eddie’s face was contorted, mouth agape, brow raised, eyes partially squinted.

“What?” Steve asked.

“I dunno… I don’t know if I like happy-go-lucky Steve. It’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

“It just is. Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

“I’m still him.”

“Debatable.”

“Yeah, okay. Eat your damn breakfast.”

“Ah, there he is,” Eddie teased.

“I hate you.”

“You wish.”

[autisticthassarian]

One of the Pleasures of the World - On Aziraphale as a Sexual Being

the exclusivity period is over, so here’s the essay i did for @a-nice-and-interpretive-fanzine! illustrations by @tyrograph can be found here.

did you know? for most of its time in gdocs this was titled “aziraphale fucks”. enjoy!

Heaven doesn’t like sex.

In general terms, it’s acceptable and appropriate and part of the divine plan and all, but it’s still a human activity. It’s squishy and messy and fleshy. It’s indulgent and frivolous. It’s not spelled out anywhere in the text, but some of the angels - at least the ones Aziraphale works with - likely treat it the way they do food (gross matter) or books (material objects) or, for that matter, pornography (a silly human thing, far beneath them). Individuals might be hypocrites on that front - Gabriel likes clothes, even though they are similarly human - and there are probably other angels who interact with humans and who don’t see what the big deal is about maintaining such a distance from them. But if we take what we’re exposed to in the show as representative, it’s entirely likely there’s at least an official overall culture of disdain and disgust, at least among the angels familiar with these things in the first place.

But Heaven is not the only place that thinks this way. There is, historically, a strong connection between food and sex in many examples of literature and culture, fictional and religious and everywhere in between. Whether it’s to condemn them or rejoice in them, or simply relate them in a neutral way, they are linked. They are physical, and sensual, and enjoyable. They are tempting, and often out of our reach. The forbidden fruit from the garden of Eden has been used in a lot of metaphors over the years, and sexual awakening and desire is definitely prominent among them.

Good Omens in particular is a work that plays with Christian mythos and philosophy, in which lust and gluttony are sister sins: they are both characterized by wanting, and by consuming in a manner and to an extent considered obscene. Sloth, often interpreted as “too much rest”, is also an example of this. Though the literary ties are not quite as strong - for instance, when it comes to metaphors for sex, you will more often see food used than sleep - they are nonetheless all considered signs of decadence. They are sins of excess.

For angels, who don’t (or at least, in Heaven’s view, shouldn’t) need these things to survive, “excess” means “at all”.

Dancing, another thing angels supposedly don't do, is also something commonly associated with sex, whether in a metaphorical or literal way. In some more puritanical circles it can be branded as immodest or indecent, or as one of the trappings of hedonistic revelry, depending on the type. Some dance is fun or entertaining, some is an art form of the physical body. There are many, many cultures and religions where some forms of dance are spiritual, ceremonial or otherwise respected or revered. But this is rarely the case with western Christianity, which doesn’t have many ties to dance as a method of worship, and where among the more religious communities it is still more common to find disapproval, heavy scrutiny for varieties deemed unacceptable, grudging tolerance, or outright prohibition than it is to find than active celebration, even if attitudes have overall grown more lax in recent times.

So all of these things sound like the kind of stuff angels in Good Omens would leave to humans, and from what we are told, they do. But what about sex itself?

Many Christian environments often seek strict control and repression of many human behaviors, including sexual ones, and some kinds of sexual ones more than others. Sex, sexual desire, and sexual pleasure are base, Earthly things. Sex is seen as a locus of human sin, an animalistic quality that separates us from the sexless divine, and an unfortunately necessary tie to our physical existence. It is best practiced only for the purpose of reproduction, and in some churches choosing celibacy is venerated and associated with devotion to God. Divine beings such as angels are therefore lacking in both sexual desire and by extension sex (in the sense of gender) itself, because in this philosophy both exist as a natural consequence of the system of sexual reproduction, which is only necessary because of a limited life span on Earth.

In Heaven, of course, where everyone is freed from such concerns, things are radically different, as once explained by Jesus Christ when asked about the marriage laws up there in relation to an exaggerated hypothetical of death and succession:

Jesus answered them, “The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage. But those who are counted worthy to attain that age, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage.”

Luke 20:34-35 (Modern English Version)

There are other gospel accounts of the same event, for example:

"When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven."

Matthew 22:30 (Modern English Version)

that further cement the connection between celibacy and immortality, and make it clear that both of them are angelic traits that humans will adopt in Heaven..

Within this framework[1], angels are immortal, sinless creatures with no physical form or need for reproduction, and no purpose beyond their divine purpose. They are sexless in all senses because of a perception of intrinsic purity and intrinsic inhumanity. If these qualities are not said to be part of their biology, then it’s only because angels have no true biology to speak of. It’s at the very least part of their nature.

So in the context of a work that celebrates humanity and all the world has to offer, along with human pleasures, including and perhaps especially ones that powerful institutions have a long history of struggle against… what does all this mean for one of our worldly, materialistic, hedonistic, too-human protagonists? One who’s been down there too long, who’s gone native? Who enjoys fun human things - even when he’s not supposed to - using his fun human body - a body he seems to maintain a sense of as him even when he’s not in it, and which in one case was more or less referred to as his true shape, sans wings?

It’s not only perfectly fitting with but actively reinforced by the themes of the work for Aziraphale to engage with sex as he does with sushi (it’s nice), or the human way of doing magic (it’s fun), or the dancing he learned from hanging out with a bunch of men in an actual, historical gay sex club. They’re all recreational and expressive activities. They all have ties to the wonderful human cultures that fascinate him so much. They can be ways to grow closer to other people, either as a community or as individuals, or perhaps both. Having dinner with Crowley (or anyone else he may have been infatuated with over the years, and who knows which one Heaven would consider more beneath him) doesn’t have to be that much different than having sex with him[2]. It’s a different kind of sensual intimacy, but sensual intimacy all the same.

Sure, these things are not necessary to his continued existence, but most things humans do aren’t either. A lot of us do them anyway. Most things Aziraphale enjoys don’t serve a "practical" function - in fact, some of them are more "impractical" than anything. But the differences between practical, necessary, frivolous, detrimental, enjoyable but neutral, et cetera, are hard to pin down. People have emotional and social needs to be considered. The line between emotional (or social) and physical is itself fuzzy. And there are indications in the text that inhabiting a human body (or simply developing habits in one) introduces certain human needs to even celestial beings. They get hungry and crave food, and Crowley at least gets tired and wants to sleep, even if the lack of these things may not kill them.

But even aside from that, there’s value in sex beyond reproduction, just like there’s value in food beyond nourishment, and value in dancing beyond exercise, and value in reading beyond conveying information. There’s value in humanity existing and thriving and enjoying life, beyond whatever the higher powers that be want to use us for. And certainly celestial beings, who aren’t so different from each other or from humans when you get down to it, can find value in these things for themselves as well.

This doesn’t mean Aziraphale’s relationship to sex is uncomplicated. That would be pretty impossible for him. He skirts as close to the line as he can with Heaven, but he has his limits for putting up with their constant pressure and disapproval. He has excuses ready for why he does certain things he knows they won’t like, and falling short of their standards invites judgement from both them and from himself, along with fear of punishment. He’s not immune to influence from Earth, either, and among the variety of cultural attitudes on sex we have, there is no shortage of the stricter and more negative for him to absorb, not to mention that he is more likely to internalize messages that are already reinforced by Heaven. His character arc is heavily concerned with repression: of his thoughts and feelings, his conscience, and his desires. He doesn't want to disagree, or to disobey, or to want the things he wants. In some cases he has worked around this, and allows himself to indulge in his own whims or follow his heart, even if it's not always easy. In others he hasn't managed it yet.

Perhaps the best example is that scene in the Bastille. He lights up at Crowley’s voice, and his entire demeanor shifts when he turns around and sees what Crowley is wearing. On the surface it seems he just disapproves of Crowley’s fashion sense, and there’s almost certainly some of that to his reaction, and once could say it explains the once-over. But it’s much easier to read him as also feeling things he would rather not be feeling. The repeated movement of his eyes on and off Crowley is particularly revealing, because we see it when Crowley cleans his coat too. As if he’s too overwhelmed to keep his eyes on Crowley, or thinks it may be too telling. Coupled with the way he abruptly stops turning towards Crowley, he comes off like he’s trying to keep an acceptable air of modesty and distance between them by keeping his body angled away, in a way he wasn’t half a second prior.

Of course, this is all compounded by the fact that Aziraphale is intentionally coded as gay[3]. His dress and mannerisms, his speech patterns and dandy feminine masculinity. He lives in Soho and collects Wilde first editions. He was a patron of a “discreet gentlemen’s club”, which, as mentioned above, is exactly what it sounds like. Several things about him call to mind a very particular Victorian-era aesthetic and culture of male/male sexuality - one that, like many, came with a lot of persecution. And considering how often strangers assume he’s gay and treat him accordingly, he’s definitely aware of how people see him, and he faces the consequences of it with a sort of stubborn pride.

This isn’t to say that the homophobia doesn’t get to him, because it clearly does - see his reaction to the child at the birthday party, or the Australian when body-hopping - but at the end of the day, his presentation is something he cultivates. He knows what he’s doing, and he keeps doing it on purpose. Like keeping part of his outfit when swapping with the executioner in Paris, he resists attempts to control his self-expression as much as he can, even when it could put him in hot water with humans. His superiors don’t care about his gender nonconformity, but if they did, he would likely meet it with the same passive resistance that he does their other attempts to belittle him for aspects of his life.

A triumphant moment for him is throwing that back in Shadwell’s face - yes, he is the southern pansy, Shadwell may be wrong about everything else about him but he’s got that right, and Aziraphale isn’t going to take it on the chin anymore. It’s one of the first rebellions he openly participates in. He’s not going to let this homophobe use what he is - and who he loves - to hurt him, and he’s not going to let Heaven do it either.

Even before that moment, he never once denies what humans read him as, including when they make assumptions about his relationship with Crowley. Only when it’s a safety concern - that is, when his superiors start suspecting him and Crowley of fraternizing - does he try to deflect suspicion, and in that case it’s more about Crowley being a demon than anything.

And yet, LGBTQ sexuality is often specifically targeted by Christian institutions. Heaven may not have an idea of gender and therefore of homophobia, but that doesn’t stop the implications of Uriel’s threat to him involving referring to Crowley as his boyfriend[4]. It doesn’t stop Aziraphale’s recognition of Sandalphon from Sodom and Gomorrah from being meaningful. It doesn’t mean his arc doesn’t involve direct parallels to being closeted for safety - safety for himself, and for his (potential) partner. And of course the book version of Good Omens is a Cold War era story, with Heaven and Hell as opposing forces that are more alike than different, and in that context it’s hard not to think of mainstream associations of homosexuality with treason that plague some countries, including England.

Combined with the homophobia he experiences from humans, these parallel lines might as well be the same lines. The details aren’t enough to differentiate them. A lot of coding of this type has some level of abstraction from what it’s saying, after all, and the effect (both on Aziraphale and on the narrative) is similar regardless of the specifics of the in-universe root causes. Thus Aziraphale’s gay coding necessitates reading Heaven’s treatment of him as involving some level of homophobia, even if, to them, the genders involved aren’t the issue.

And so Aziraphale liking and having sex - and dealing with Heaven’s probable disapproval of it - fits very neatly with that. It adds a dimension that resonates very well with the rest of his arc and with his place in the work as a whole. It reinforces the ties between Heaven as an oppressive force in the lives of lower ranking angels and various hegemonic human institutions as oppressive forces in the lives of other humans, by giving them one more point where they are looking at Aziraphale and saying the same thing: sex isn’t for you or people like you.

In fact, these parallels do not require hand-waving Heaven’s lack of gender, and can be strengthened by intentionally considering it. Aziraphale, like all angels and demons, was not assigned a gender at birth[5]. To Heaven, gender is a human thing too, and one whose adoption would likely be considered weird at best. Whatever dress code they may have does not take into account whether some trait or another is gendered among some humans, or, if it is, in what way. But as far as actually being something other than completely genderless? Incorporating that into their self image? Angels are discouraged from identifying with humanity in any way. If any of them were caught trying it, they’d probably be told that that doesn’t apply to them, they don’t do that, they’re angels. They were not created with gender, and they weren't assigned one, and so they can't claim one as their own. It’s just nature.

Given this, there is no way for Aziraphale to be cisgender. As close a concept as Heaven has would be him maintaining genderlessness, which among the humans he lives with would mark him as transgender. If instead he did have gender, it still wouldn’t be something he was assigned at birth, and so he would still be trans, in many of his adopted human cultures as well as his native angelic one. And though he would have no trouble adapting his body to be read as cis if he so chose[6], given his stubborn nonconformity it's doubtful he would always choose that.

Being indisputably trans adds an element of marginalization to sexual attraction and experience, much in the same way being gay does. And although it may not affect Heaven’s opinion on Aziraphale having sex, gender[7] would still be met with disapproval. One more mark against him. One more way he’s aligned himself with the people he was supposed to have some level of aloof separation from. One more piece of himself that lives in defiance to them.

Like before, it would make sense for Aziraphale to have some conflicting feelings about this, as he does for all the ways he breaks from Heaven's vision for him. In particular, there is a line in the book that I find very compelling:

"...they were both men, or at least men-shaped creatures, of the world…"

In his internal narration, Aziraphale thinks to refer to himself and Crowley as men, before "correcting" himself, a form of mental gymnastics we can see in other places[8] where his own perception contradicts what he knows he's supposed to think - in this case, it primarily goes against the teachings of Heaven, though as mentioned there are certainly also humans who, if they knew he was an angel, would regard him as “man-shaped” rather than as truly a man, regardless of what he had to say about it.

As a final point, consider that it’s been often noted among fans that Aziraphale seems very autistic. The specifics of his autistic traits are beyond the scope of this essay, but autistic people, like many disabled people, are subject to some of the same things talked about earlier. Particularly, a combination of dehumanization and infantilization (and with it, ascriptions of “purity” or “innocence”) lead to things like desexualization, misgendering or degendering, and denial of romantic, sexual, social, and emotional agency and capability. Autism is therefore another potential reason Aziraphale is expected by some humans, or even pressured, to not have certain feelings related to sex, romance, and gender - although, due to the effects of cisheterosexism, this could never be quite like the expectations Heaven has for him. But they are similar enough to note.

For all of these reasons, an interpretation of Aziraphale as a sexual being who incorporates gender and sexuality into his own identity introduces many layered parallels to his character arc, and to his struggles both in Heaven and on Earth. These dimensions of his existence all interact in interesting and compelling ways for him. They unite and reinforce several themes of his character and of the story itself, both of which come away stronger for it.

Aziraphale, after all, doesn’t do what Heaven likes.

-

1. Interpretations of angels or other divine beings as sexless or otherwise androgynous are also found in other religions - notably, angels are sometimes viewed this way within Judaism, with which Chriatianity shares much of its source material, and which influences Good Omens through the Jewish upbringing of one of its authors. But as stated, both the book and series use Christian mythology as their sandbox, and so common Christian reasoning and interpretation are being discussed here.

2. Particularly when the dinner in question is considered an aphrodisiac, and the chef apparently “does marvellous things to” it. The subtext here is not subtle.

3. Though most of it is applicable to bisexual or other non-straight men as well, and I would never say that a character being interpreted as gay (or an author writing that their character is interpreted as gay) by the characters around them means they are not bisexual, I would argue that “I do believe you’ve got the wrong shop” lends some weight to an interpretation that he is not interested in women.

4. Even if it was in some angelic language, and not English. If we assume the translation convention is fairly accurate, then the implications hold.

5. Birth, creation, same thing.

6.  At least in times and places where the social construction of cisness not only exists in the first place but could also even include feminine, flamboyant gay men, which has not always been the case.

7. Binary or not, though again, when it comes to people who are gay, trans, and gender non-conforming, the distinction is largely immaterial everywhere (even today), not just in celestial spheres.

8. My favorite:

"Maybe some terrorist-?" Aziraphale began.

"Not one of ours," said Crowley.

"Or ours," said Aziraphale. "Although ours are freedom fighters, of course.”

…

"But I don't think any of ours have any big plans afoot," said Aziraphale. "Just minor acts of ter-political protest," he corrected.

[larimar]

Hi Ren

Hi there Ren Its been a little while, Did you miss me? You thought you'd buried me, didn't you? Risky... Because I always come back Deep down you know that... Deep down you know I'm always in periphery Ren aren't you pleased to see me? It's been weeks since we spoke bro, you know you need me You're the sheep, I'm the shepherd Not your place to lead me Not your place to be biting off the hand that feeds me

Hi Ren I've been taking some time to be distant I've been taking some time to be still I've been taking some time to be by myself Since my therapist told me I'm ill I've been making some progress lately, And I've learnt some new coping skills So I haven't really needed you much man I think we need to just step back and chill

Ren, you sound more insane than I do You think that those doctors are really there to guide you? Been through this a million times Your civilian mind is so perfect at always being lied to Okay, take another pill boy Drown yourself in the sound of white noise Follow this 10 step program, rejoice! All your problems will be gone! Fucking dumb boy

Nah mate, this time it's different man trust me I feel like things might be falling in place And my music's been kinda doing bits too Like I actually might do something great And when I'm gone maybe I'll be remembered For doing something special with myself That's why I don't think that we should talk man Cause when your with me it never seems to help

You think that you can amputate me? I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we We are one, split in two that makes one so you see You got to kill you if you wanna kill me. I'm not left over dinner, I'm not scraps on the side, Oh your music is thriving? Delusional guy! Where's your top ten hit? Where's your interview with Oprah? Where are your grammies Ren? Nowhere!

Yeah but, my music's not commercial like that I never chased numbers, statistics or stats I Never write hooks for the radio, they never even play me So why would I concern myself with that? But my music is really connecting, And the people who find it respect it, And for me that's enough 'cause this life's been tough So it gives me a purpose I can rest in

Man you sound so pretentious! Ren your music is so self centred, No one wants to hear another song about How much you hate yourself... trust me You should be so lucky having me inside you to guide you, Remind you to manage expectations, Provide you perspective, that thing you neglected, I get it You wana be a big deal... Next jimi hendrix? forget it

Man it's not like that

Man it's just like that I'm inside you you twat

Nah it's not man your wrong, when I write I belong

Let me break the fourth wall by acknowledging this song Ren sits down, Has a stroke of genius, He wants to write a song that was not done previous A battle with his subconscious... Eminem did it

Played on guitar

Plan B did it Man your not original you criminal, rip off artist, The pinnacle of your success is stealing other people's material Ren mate we've heard it all before Ohh "she sell sea shells on the sea shore"

Fuck you I don't need you, I don't need to hear this, Cause I'm fine by myself, I'm a genius! And I will be great, and I will make waves And I'll shake up the whole world beneath us

That's right speak your truth, Your fucking god complex leaks out of you It's refreshing to actually hear you say it! In stead of down play it... "Oh the music Is all about the creative process And if people can find something to relate to Within that then that's just a bonus"

Fuck you ima fucking kill you Ren

Well fucking kill me then Let's fucking have you Ren

I'm a do it, watch me prove it, who are you to doubt my music? 'Cause I call the shots I choose if you die Yeah I call the shots and so i who choose who survives I'll tie you up in knots then I'll lock you inside

News flash... I was created at the dawn of creation, I am temptation I am the snake in Eden, I am the reason for treason Beheading all Kings, I am sin with no rhyme or reason, Sun of the morning, Lucifer, Antichrist, father of lies, Mestophilies, Truth in a blender, Deceitful pretender, The Banished avenger, The righteous surrender When standing in-front of my solar eclipse, My name it is stitched to your lips so see I won't bow to the will of a mortal, feeble and normal You wana kill me? I'm enteral, immortal I live in every decision that catalysed chaos That causes division I live inside death, the beginning of ends I am you, you are me, I am you Ren

Hi Ren... I've been taking some time to be distant, I've been taking some time to be still I've been taking some time to be by myself And I've spent half my life ill But just as sure as the tide start turning Just as sure as the night has dawn Just as sure as rain fall soon runs dry When you stand in the eye of the storm

I was made to be tested and twisted I was made to be broken and beat And you know me my will is eternal And you know me you've met Me before Face to with a beast I will rise from the east And I'll settle on the ocean floor And I go by many names also Some people know me as hope Some people know me as the voice that you hear When u loosen the noose on the rope And you know how I know how I know that I'll prosper? Because I stand here beside you today I have stood in the flames that cremated my brain And I didn't once flinch or shake So cower at the man I've become When I sing from the top of my lungs That I won't retire I'll stand in your fire Inspire the weak to be strong And when I am gone I will rise In the music that I left behind Ferocious persistent, immortal like you We're a coin with two different sides

When I was 17 years old I shouted out into an empty room, Into a blank canvas, that I would defeat the forces of evil, And for the next 10 years of my life I suffered the consequences... With Illness, autoimmunity and psychosis

As I got older I realised that there were no real winners Or no real losers in physiological warfare But there were victims and there were students

It wasn't David verses Goliath, it's was a pendulum eternally Swaying between the dark and the light, And the brighter the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast

It was never a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance, And like a dance, the more rigid I became the harder it got The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps the more i suffered And so I got older and I learned to relax, And I learned to soften, and that dance got easier

It is this eternal waltz that separates human beings From angels, from demons, from gods

And I must not forget, we must not forget, that we are human beings.

Written by: Ren Gill

Album: Hi Ren

Released: 2022

[yumekurotl]

~ Yumekuro Prologue ~

---Welcome. To a world where all dreams come true.

Well, what kind of dream will you see?

For example, a dream about eating the most delicious food in the world.

Oscar: Delicious!!

Kuchen, Cui, Riche: ___!!

Oscar: A charming appearance that triggers intense hunger, and a mouthwatering texture that will make you feel like floating on cloud nine.......

Oscar: Next comes, the savory, savory, savory emitted from the ingredients- the exquisite ingredients that have been carefully picked out and put together in harmony.

Oscar: It’s like... It’s like a gastronomic festival filled with all kinds of delicacies from around the world!

Oscar: ... This is what the ultimate ingredients and the ultimate chef can do. My dream of what looks like the ultimate gastronomic experience has now been fulfilled!

Cui: Hooray... Hooray! I finally completed it!

Kuchen: Haha, Hooray for you, Cui! Well, we all knew the outcome, didn't we?

Riche: Ahh... Cui-Oniisan, you’re the best! So cool! Also, Kuchen-Oniisan is a genius!

Oscar: We dominated this world’s Gastronomy. Guild Gastronomy has now become the ultimate gourmet guild. 

Oscar: Each of you, do your best in the future. All for the sake of gastronomy---

Kuchen, Cui, Riche: Okay/Yes!

For example, a dream about striking gold at a casino.

Seven: ...........

Ymir: Is it coming....?

Seven: .............

Victor: Ahh, god! My heart is racing to the point I feel like dying!

Seven: .....................

Ren: Get him, Seven!

Camus: 6-4, Player Win.

Victor, Ren: IT CAMEEEEE!!!!

Ymir: Huuu-

Victor: Unbelievable! Ten billion gold!!

Ren: Haa, what a ridiculous amount of money! I can’t stop laughing-!

Camus: Next game, bet please.

Seven: ................

Camus: -Will you continue? or pull out? It’s already an amount enough to play with for the rest of your life and more.

Seven: ......Don’t be ridiculous.

Seven: Ten billion gold. I will bet the whole amount.

Ymir, Victor, Ren: HUH?!!!

Camus: Fu... That’s how it should be.

For example, a dream about a normal everyday life.

Kai: T-h-a-t’s w-h-y! Mine was definitely bigger!

Shion: Is your eyes just for decoration? No matter how you look at it, mine is bigger than yours.

Gii: B- Both pumpkins were very big~..... Let's call it a tie and stop fighting~.....?

Kai: The winner of growing pumpkins is me.

Shion: Haa, you went and competed on your own, and when you lost, this happens. You’re too single-minded, it brings tears to my eyes.

Kai: What did you say, you bitter bastard?!

Gii: C-Can you hear what I’m saying~....?!

Est: Both of you did amazingly! You have exceeded my expectations. Fufu, as your teacher, I’m so proud of you.

Gii: S-Sensei... Please stop laughing~....

Est: It’s okay, Gii. They say the more you fight, the better you get.

Kai, Shion: Only against this guy... I will definitely win.

Gii: Fufu... That’s right!

This world is full of dreams.

.....attain.

This world is filled with white hope.

Wrong... Weird.

You’re thinking why are you seeing this happiness? This is because... In this world-

They don’t exist.

??: ....Emma. Hey, are you okay?! Get a hold of yourself!

Crow: Thank god! you regained consciousness, Emma!

Emma: Was it... a dream?

Crow: Did you see a bad dream? But then again, it's only-

Noah: If we are talking about bad dreams, then I think that's what's in front of us now.

Itsuki: Eden....

Granflare: Eden! Why-

Crow: Eden is trying to make his dream come true. But it's the same for us too.

Rouge: Yes, yes. Everyone is selfish, right?

Crow: Right. Let's both give it our all-

Crow: For our selfish dreams, Eden!

Eden: Took you long enough. I'm tired of waiting.

Crow: For how long do you think I will be swayed...?! I won't be satisfied if I didn't get to punch you at least once.

Eden: Haha. That's fine, come at me.

Eden: Because I prepared for you a big-ass one.

Granflare: Uuh... We can't back out here.

Itsuki: I don't want to give up.

Eden: Not so bad.

Eden: That damn kid... He sure grow up.

Crow: Hey, Eden. I don't care what you have become. As I thought, for me, you will forever remain the same.

Crow: But there's one thing I can never forgive you for.

Crow: Don't make Emma cry, you old bastard!

Eden: ....I see. I made you cry again.

Eden: But I can't apologize.

Eden: Emma...

Crow: .....I'll definitely make it happen.

Crow: Even if you're gone from this world.

Eden: Yes. It's fine this way.

Eden: Then- Go on.

Crow: This world is overflowing with sparkling dreams.

Crow: This is what we seek, despite also knowing the pain of not reaching it.

Crow: But so what? I'm never gonna let go of your hand.

Crow: Let's go, to realize our unyielding dreams.

~ End of Prologue ~

_________________________________________

Hope my translation of the prologue is good, if there's any mistranslation with the names or there's something wrong with wording, do tell me to fix it! I hope you enjoy my translation, and see you in chapter 0 soon!

If you like my translation, please buy me a ko-fi 💓

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter one

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 3,147

Read on Ao3

There’s this small, tiny part, of Spencer that wants to run away.

He’s always felt like he’s never truly been home, a never-ending and long yearning, a homesickness for a place he didn't even know, eating him alive day by day. It made him want to drop everything and buy a cottage in the woods, to fill it with books and coffee and never see another person again.

It got worse after prison and after his mom asked to go back into a care facility, it hurt the most when Penelope left the FBI and things with Max fizzled out. Then he was really, truly alone again. His apartment felt cold and uninviting, the BAU felt like a chore, using his brain for anything other than taking care of himself was extremely hard.

He needed a break.

So when he walked out of work and straight to his favourite park for an escape, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t stop walking. Going further and further down the trail, following the dirt path towards a pond, covered by a beautiful willow tree and surrounded by pink, purple, yellow and white flowers. The contrast of the green grass with the colourful flowers, the blue sky and the light green willow tree reflection dancing on the surface of the pond. It was like he walked into Eden, taking a seat by the tree and picking a book from his satchel.

For the rest of the week, it’s his own little sanctuary, escaping desk work and home cases as fast as he could. Even then it wasn't enough and he started going every afternoon, he’d sneak out for an hour and just relax. Reading his book, feeling the breeze on his face, the sound of ducks and frogs competing with the crickets for loudest being in the area. Eventually bringing his bike on the subway to work so he could get there faster.

It was beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as what he walked in on when he arrived Saturday afternoon. Parking his bike by the tree, looking at them carefully as he took his satchel off his shoulders and placed it by the trunk. Craning his neck so he could look at who it was, seeing the purest display of human affection known to man.

A mother and her daughter were having a picnic, dressed up like Miss Honey and Matilda as they had lemonade and snacks, spread out on a blanket as the mother handed her a sandwich wrapped in checkered red wax paper.

Spencer was in awe, sitting on the other side of the pond by a second tree, pretending to read when really he was glancing at them. Their laugher filling the field, bouncing around the trees and filling his chest with warmth.

It reminded him of all the afternoons with his own mother. His head in her lap, the sound of her voice as she shared worlds wisdom with him. He missed childhood, freedom, hope. The will to continue…

When the little girl finally notices that they’re not alone in this little world she’s creating, he sees her tug on her moms shirt, asking her a question before cheering. She picks something out of the basket and comes running towards Spencer.

“Excuse me, sir?” Her sweet little voice asks. “Are you an archeologist or a palaeontologist?”

It makes him laugh slightly, a large smile erupting on his face as he pushes his glasses up and puts the book down. “No sorry, I’m not, what made you think I was?”

“You have a satchel and glasses like Milo from Atlantis, but you have a dinosaur on your tie, you look like you work at a museum,” she rambled all her thoughts out, much like he did as a child.

“I’m actually an FBI agent,” he whispered.

“Wow,” she whispered back in amazement, “are you like a knight? Do you save princesses?”

“I do," he nodded enthusiastically, "do you know any in need?”

“Her,” she pointed. “I’m Lady Amoreena, the Princess over there says I was a gift to the kingdom but that she’ll never need a prince or king to take care of us, but I think a knight would work!”

He laughed lightly, seeing her mom shake her head as she overheard it, covering her face with her hand, she looked embarrassed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Amoreena,” he put his hand out to shake her’s as soft as possible, noticing the cookie in her hand. “My name is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he added softly.

“Would you like a cookie?”

He smiled as she placed it in his hand, “thank you.”

“Do you like Matilda?”

“It’s one of my favourite books,” he smiles.

“Do you want to have some lemonade and read with us?” Her face lit up, turning back to where her mother was watching from the pond.

“It’s okay, thank you for offering,” not wanting to intrude on their moment.

“We need a voice for Matilda’s father, please?” She begged, overly sweet and incredibly convincing.

“Alright, but I’m warning you if I upstage the princess with my awesome voices, it’s not my fault,” he smiled as he stood up, grabbing his things and starting to follow her over to the blanket.

She took his hand and tugged him along the edge of the pond, dragging him right to were her mother was sitting on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized softly as he sat down. “She’s very persistent about making new friends. We don’t see many people on this side of the park.”

“It’s fine, honestly, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, by the way,” he introduced himself. “I work with the FBI, normally I’d advice women and their children to avoid strange men they don’t know when they’re alone in the woods like this.”

She laughed slightly, “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m the head librarian at the DC library, and you don’t seem that strange.”

“Neither did Bundy,” he tried to joke, knowing she got it and trusted him when she bit back a smile, eyes twinkling at him in the sunlight.

“My name is Amoreena, like the Elton John song,” her daughter cut in, noticing how they were staring at each other and trying to get the attention instead.

“It’s a beautiful song, no wonder you love it here,” Spencer smiled at her, “do you come here often?”

She nodded, a blush flowing through her freckled cheeks, “have you ever read Tuck Everlasting? The pond here can make you young forever,” her whisper was the cutest thing. She was so full of life, personality and joy.

“I have, you’re right this feels a lot like the field from the book, what other books do you like?”

“I love books,” she lays back against the blanket ever so dramatically. “Matilda, Anne of Green Gables, Beauty and the Beast, I love every story that ends with true love and happiness, and cats.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her explanation, knowing that feeling all too well. “I have read almost every book ever, more than the entire DC library probably."

“We dress up every week for what ever book we are reading, next week is Peter Pan if you’d like to join us? We’re here every Saturday at 11,” Y/N offered.

“You haven’t even heard me read Matilda from memory and you’re already asking me to come back?” Spencer smirked as their faces lit up.

“No way, prove it!” Amoreena shouted, shoving him lightly to encourage him to start.

“The Reader of Books,” he began, seeing the pages in his mind as he repeated the words. “It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.”

“Okay so you know the beginning,” Y/N teased, opening the book to a random page, “what's on page 32?”

"My name is Jennifer Honey," Miss Honey said. "How do you do, Mrs. Wormwood." Mrs. Wormwood glared at her and said, "What's the trouble then?" Nobody invited Miss Honey to sit down so she chose a chair and sat down anyway. "This", she said, "was your daughter's first day at school." "We know that," Mrs Wormwood said, ratty about missing her programme. "Is that all you came to tell us?" Miss Honey stared hard into the other woman's wet grey eyes, and she allowed the silence to hang in the air until Mrs. Wormwood became uncomfortable. "Do you wish me to explain why I came?" she said.

Amoreena thought it was the coolest thing ever, reading the page and jumping up and down when he was correct, “how did you do that?”

“I can remember every word I’ve ever read, I have a pretty interesting brain,” he explained it as overdramatic as he could, knowing she would find it magical.

“You’re so cool!” She swooned, dropping back against the blanket just as dramatically.

Y/N was all smiles, running her fingers through Amoreena’s hair and giggling slightly at the sight of her silly child. “Spencer, would you like to do the honours today?”

She handed him the book, knowing he didn’t need it. He gently opened it, starting on the first page and starting to read it the way his mother would. Bringing out voices, hand gestures, all the bells and whistles.

They were in the field together until the sun started to set, casting a purple and orange glow over the pond. Amoreena was resting in Y/N’s arms, legs extended over Spencer’s lap as they sat close. It was the most perfect Saturday he has had in a long time. Probably the best day of his life, actually.

“Matilda leapt into Miss Honey's arms and hugged her, and Miss Honey hugged her back, and then the mother and father and brother were inside the car and the car was pulling away with the tyres screaming. The brother gave a wave through the rear window, but the other two didn't even look back. Miss Honey was still hugging the tiny girl in her arms and neither of them said a word as they stood there watching the big black car tearing round the corner at the end of the road and disappearing for ever into the distance. The end.”

He closed the book softly, setting it down on the blanket and looking at them softly, “am I still invited next week?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N smiled, “I’m dressing as Tinker Bell, Amoreena will be Peter Pan, and you can be anyone else of your choosing.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise until next week,” Spencer smiled right back.

Amoreena crawled out of Y/N’s lap and leapt into Spencer’s arms, hugging him tightly in her small arms. “That was the best story ever, thank you!”

Everything in the world felt right then, hugging her back while he smiled at her mother. Y/N had a hand over her heart as she swooned, watching her daughter bond with the man who just happened to wander into their picnic.

“Can I get your number?” Y/N asked softly, “you know, so we can arrange outfits and stories as the week's pass.” She shrugged, licking her lips slightly as she blushed.

“Of course, I’m not on duty for the rest of the month, so if you wanted to go to a museum or anything, I’m free? Since I look so much like I should work there,” he teased Amoreena.

“I’m sure lovey would like that?” Y/N leaned over Amoreena’s shoulder, holding her around her waist and tickling her softly.

Lovey

It was a nickname that made perfect sense in his mind. Amoreena, the keyword being Amore, to love. She was very loveable, incredibly vibrant and full of innocence, a life that was full of possibilities, wonderful like her mother.

“We’re going to the Smithsonian tomorrow to see the Dino’s,” Amoreena’s face lit up. “Do you know anything about them?”

“Surprisingly enough, while I’m not a paleontologist, I know a lot about dinosaurs, and I might have some connections there to see the rare ones,” he exaggerated his voice again, watching her get so excited she started to run around with her arms in the air.

“You don’t have to if you’re busy,” she says softly when Amoreena is far enough away, picking flowers as she ran around.

“I’d love to, actually, thank you,” he whispers towards Y/N. “I haven’t been having the greatest week.”

“Is it okay for me to ask what you do?” She asked, just as softly as Amoreena kept running around the field.

“I’m a profiler, I consult on intense cases.”

“The strange man comment makes more sense now,” she smiled. “we’re looking for a literary historian at the library right now, I’m sure remembering every word in every book would get you hired, you know if you wanted to switch careers for something easier on your soul?”

“I have been thinking of leaving, in all honesty, I’ve actually been having more of a rough 15 years,” he tries to laugh but he just feels frustrated. “It’s been really hard.”

“For everything you see, you’re still a very sweet man, not many people would sit down and occupy his time with an autistic 7-year-old,” she complimented him with a smile, sharing something personal in a way that would fit right into the conversation and not make a big deal. “We really did enjoy your company today.”

He handed her a business card from his pocket, feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional as he handed it to her, “I've had a wonderful time. I'm also autistic, I know what it's like to want to share the world while no one wants to listen, thank you for letting me join you. Let me know what time you’re going to the museum tomorrow and I will be there.”

Y/N’s face lit up once more, reading the card over before sliding it into her bag. “Do you want a PB&J or a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch tomorrow?”

“PB&J is a great museum lunch,” he bit his lip so he’d stop smiling, it was beginning to feel embarrassing with how much he liked her already. Not used to random kindness from smart and beautiful women.

Amoreena came running back then, handing Spencer a handful of flowers upon her arrival. “For you, Sir Knight,” she bowed as he took them.

“I bid you a good day, my fair ladies,” Spencer plaid along, standing to curtsy back.

“We’ll see you tomorrow then?” Y/N asked from the blanket as Amoreena dove into her arms.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer smiled one last time.

“Bye Spencer!!” Amoreena cheered as he waved, walking back down the path towards the main park entrance.

With his satchel draped over his shoulder, he pushed his sleeves up as he walked towards his bike, overwhelmed by the feeling of joy still swirling in his blood. Peddling his way down the path with a smile on his face, excited to get home and plan for the Smithsonian tomorrow, he was an excellent tour guide.

And he did actually have some connections.

Calling the museum curator, an old friend from years ago who owed him a favour. Asking if there was any way he could show his friend and her kid around the un-displayed dinosaurs and fossils, of course she said yes. People seemed to do anything for Dr. Reid of the FBI.

He thought about her job offer then as he hung up, reaching the train station finally and making his way back to his sad apartment. It would be nice to change things up for a bit, it’s not like he couldn’t go back to the FBI in 20 years like Rossi did.

15 years in the field and a metric fuck ton of trauma later, he was officially fed up. Opening his computer the second he got home, writing his 2 weeks notice to be forwarded to Mateo Cruz.

—

He woke up with excitement, for the first time in years.

Well, at first he was happy, then he thought about it too long. Despair creeping in, it was truly sad to think that he’s been sad for so long, desperately needing the happiness Y/N and Amoreena brought to his life.

Like when he spent time around Henry or Hank, there was something so rewarding about witnessing a child see something for the first time. Explaining the world to them, seeing their eyes widen as they enjoyed the world around them.

It was the best thing someone could do, spending the day living with the happiness of a child.

Y/N had texted him right as he woke up, the chime of a new message actually making him smile instead of panic.

Y/N: hey smartie pants, we’re thinking 11 am today. Can we meet you out front?”

Spencer: sure! You should start preparing to hear me ramble all day long. Also my I suggest bringing proper shoes for lots of walking and a backpack for the things Amoreena will get to bring home!

Y/N: oh you weren’t kidding about those connections huh?

Spencer: nope!

Y/N: well, can’t wait to see what you have in store for us! (And to hear your voice all day ♥︎)

It made his heart swell, he could swear it grew three sizes as it pushed against his ribs. Trying to break free from him and run to her, he hadn’t felt this strongly about another person in a very long time.

It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t greed, it wasn’t desperation. He didn’t just want to sleep with her or use her to fill his time, she wasn’t just another friend to occupy his days and talk to when he had to, she was special. She was interesting, she was kind, she was beautiful, she reminded him of his own mother in a strange way that made him fear Fraud was right.

He found a comfort in her that felt a little like home, like all his running led him to her. She was the end of the finish line, the cold glass of water, the euphoric pride of a job well done. She was everything good wrapped up in a beautiful bow and he was gone.

Feeling like he did when he met Ethan, Derek, or Elle for the first time, even Maeve when they were just talking on the phone, that butterfly feeling that excited him to try something new.

Y/N made him believe in possibilities again.

It felt nice to look ahead, to dream and wish of the future and not see death and destruction. Instead, dreaming of them running through the fields, flowers dancing everywhere as they hear Amoreena’s laughter. It’s how life is supposed to be.

[hotchnerxo]

What am I thinking? Final chapter: East of Eden

Summary: You and your team go to celebrate solving the case and you invite Aaron to come with you. You also end up apologizing his team the next morning.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Words: 3.2k

Warning: PRETTY SWEET AND FLUFFY!

A/N: This is the final chapter of the story! Please take a moment to give me feedback or a like, to let me know what you think.

Chapter 4. East of Eden

After you have changed back to your normal clothes and returned the gear, you head back to the fifth floor. This time, the environment is so much different. Or maybe it isn’t the environment, but this time you’re not so infuriated.

This time, the bullpen was nearly empty. Only a few agents are at their desks. You look around, and notice familiar faces, Hotchner’s team in the conference room above on the right. You notice a young man, with slightly curly hair raising his hand for a wave. You answer his greeting with a similar movement and try to think of that man’s name. But you don’t remember any of their names, except Lewis’, because you’ve heard of her before, you were too upset during the time you got introduced.

You also notice that their leader isn’t inside that room, so your eyes turn to scan the rest of the offices. On the far left, on top of a couple of stairs, you see him sitting behind a desk with Garcia on the other side of it.

You take a deep breath and head towards the office you spotted the agent in. You knock on the door that’s partially open and peek inside “Hey. Got a moment?” you ask and he invites you in. Garcia gets up as you enter the office. Aaron also stands up, his eyes on you. Your nerves seem to make it hard to find the right, appropriate words.

“What can I do for you?” he speaks. He looks so full of authority behind his desk with a full bookcase behind him. There are a couple of framed photographs on the mid shelf and your eyes are drawn to a picture with a little boy in it. His son, possibly?

“I - uh” you lift your arm with a dark blue jacket folded on it “I came to return this”. You give him his jacket, which he graciously accepts. “Also, I wanted to thank you both for your effort and help. Even if I was difficult, I do appreciate it”.

“Oh no need to worry! It was great working with you all! And Camilla has come a long way” she said with pride. For your surprise she leaps in to hug you. Although it takes a moment for you to realize what’s happening, you hug her back. As the two of you part from the hug, Garcia takes a last look towards her boss and leaves the office to give you and him some privacy.

“Is she never not smiling?” you ask, referring to Penelope.

“When she isn’t smiling, the world is on fire” he says with a calm tone. You’re not sure if he’s joking because of his tone. “But like she said, I’m glad we were able to help”. He put the jacket on the back of his chair. He’s still standing and your eyes are glued to him. The jacket on him completed the look, and he looked very handsome with it. But he’s more relaxed like this, only his dress shirt and tie around his neck, loosened up just a touch.

“I didn’t only come here to return the jacket, I actually wanted to invite you and Penelope to come to get drinks with the team tonight. We’re going to celebrate, and as you were a big part of catching them, and probably saving my life, I’d love for you to join us” you try to keep your tone consistent and professional. Hide the emotion and how happy it would make you to have him there.

He thinks about your proposal for a moment. Jack is away for the weekend with his aunt, so the empty home doesn’t sound inviting. “I think I could make it. Where are you meeting?”

You can’t help but smile. “At Sam’s. Know the place?” he nods. “We’ll meet there at 9. Come whenever you can. I’m excited to see a more relaxed version of you”. You can’t hide your excitement, even if you tried. About finishing the biggest case you’ve ever worked with, going to celebrate with your closest friends and hopefully getting to know this intriguing man.

--

It’s almost 10 and the whole team has downed a few rounds of drink already. You love how comfortable it is spending time with your team after work. Laughing at dumb stories, sharing frustrations and just enjoying each other’s company. Spending so many hours in the same office and cases, you learn to know one another better than you at times know yourselves.

“Okay! But spill the tea (Y/N), what happened at the restaurant with Hotchner?” Benjamin leans forward on the table, holding a bottle of beer in his hands and a spark in his eyes is bright. “Is it true what Camilla said?”

“That depends” you take a long sip of your drink “on what Camilla told you”. If you were sober, you would be bright red right now, but you’re on your third drink and it’s given you a whole new kind of confidence. You squint at the analyst next to you, who acts all innocent.

“Is it true that he kissed you to save you from getting caught?”

You try to think of a way to get out of this topic, but can’t find any as all 3 pairs of eyes were on you. “Actually, yeah” you look into your drink, avoiding eye contact was easier when talking about what happened. Their eyes are basically burning your skin as they stare at you. You tell in detail how it happened, how you had mistaken the hallway for a way to get to the restroom. And because it wasn’t there, you had no valid reason to be in that hallway. And as Aaron realized that the man was coming back from the kitchen, he came to you, kissed you, acting like a passionate couple, just trying to sneak around. “And it worked,” you state, finishing your story.

“Omg” Camilla gasps. “You like him” she turned to look at her coworkers, begging for support for her theory. “That’s why you asked him to come here”.

“No I don’t!” you shout. You don’t like him. “I mean sure, he isn’t bad looking. And he does seem to be very respected by his team” you tell your friends. “He seems to have a sense of humour”.

“You do like him!” Anya joins Moreno’s theory.

To your horror, you see the man walking through the bar doors at the same time. He’s looking around the tables, trying to find familiar faces. You weren’t sure if he’d actually come. But here he is, in a black button down shirt and jeans. You turn back towards the table and take a big gulp of your drink.

“Hotchner! We’re here!” you almost choke to your drink as Camilla calls for him. It’s clear she’s had quite a lot to drink already, her volume control isn’t the best when she’s tipsy. He greets everyone when he gets to the table. He’s so tall you find yourself thinking as he’s standing next to you.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Lost track of time on the phone with my son after work” he explains. He’s very punctual and you can see that he’s not happy with being late. “I’m going to go get a beer, anyone want anything? This round is on me” he offers, receiving a few cheers from the agents.

You offer to go help him carry everything from the bar. Every member of your team shoots a knowing look to you as you get up and walk to the bar with Hotchner. ‘Aaron’ you remind yourself. You’re not at the office anymore, he’s not SSA Hotchner at this hour anymore. He’s just Aaron.

“How old is your son?” you ask as you’re waiting for the drinks to be ready. You’re standing very close to him as the bar counter is crowded and you like the way it feels to lean onto his arm. For some reason, it feels nice to be close to someone like this.

He thanks the bartender as she hands out the drinks. Aaron got a scotch for himself, moscow mules for you and Anya, a margarita for Camilla and a beer for Benjamin. “Jack’s 13 already” he shares with a smile on his face. His whole presence was more relaxed and calm as he’s out of the office. And it’s clear that just by mentioning his son, he’s so proud of him.

You two return to the table, handing out the drinks. “Where is he now?” you continue on the subject. You’re curious. He tells you that he’s out of town with his aunt for over the weekend as he’s working. That Jess takes care of him whenever he isn’t home. That makes you wonder, where his mother is. But you don’t feel like asking more about it.

Couple of hours go by fast and your head is more blurry by the hour. You notice that he’s only had one scotch, and doesn’t drink more than that. He’s interacting with everyone, laughing and listening.

As you find yourself passing the line of tipsy, you feel like you can only focus on the man sitting next to you. His hands are on the table, fingers intertwined. You remember when he held out his hand for you to grasp, getting out of the car, his hands made yours look so small. The skin was rough, yet soft. So warm.

You notice the color in his eyes, almost perfectly matching the color of his earlier drink. In the bar light, they look so rich and whenever he talks about something that’s important to him, there’s a spark in them. You notice that it usually happens when he talks about his son or his team. And you can feel your heart wondering what else he is passionate about. What else would get that sparkle to come out.

You notice the little dimples on his cheeks whenever he smiles. You’ve seen him smile before, but you feel like whenever he does, it lights up the whole room. And you’ve only known him for a day. The way he laughs gives you goosebumps.

You notice he’s a good listener, and loves it. He doesn’t like being the center of attention, he has a shy side and he is a bit introverted.

“Hotch” Ben leans into the table again, his speaking a bit slower than earlier. “Is anyone waiting for- for you at home?” You shoot a judging look at your friend. You’re shocked how direct they are.

But he doesn’t seem to mind “No, no I don’t. I haven’t been in a relationship in a while, just been focusing on my work and Jack” he explains. You feel a weight lifted from your heart. He was single. But it also confuses you briefly, as to why you’re getting so excited about it. You haven’t been even thinking about a relationship for a long time, you’ve just focused on the case for months on end.

Another hour goes by until you all decide to call it a night. As you stand up you realize how much you’ve actually drunk and your balance betrayed you. Instead of stumbling, you feel two strong arms holding you from your sides, long enough for you to catch your balance. “You alright?” he asks softly, but with a smile on his smug, pretty face.

“Perfect” you raise your chin up and give him a thumbs up.

He makes sure everyone’s alright as they get up. It comes so naturally for him, taking care of other people. Making sure everyone’s getting home safely, watching over everyone as they get into a taxi. But everyone else is in a shape that they’ll make it home alright. Except for you. You’ve drank the most and he doesn’t let you go home alone.

“Aaron!” you jokingly stroke his chest “I am fine! It’s home, how can I miss it?” your speech is more of a slur at this point, making him laugh.

“I don’t care. I’m going to make sure you’re going to get home safely. End of discussion” he orders. You pout, but accept your faith. He helps you in and goes to the other side himself.

The ride home isn’t long and it goes mostly by in comfortable silence. All you remember is that you kept looking at Aaron and giggling, getting him all confused. He asks you what’s so funny but you insist that it’s a secret and you can’t tell him.

Just like earlier this evening, you take his arm and walk by his side home. He opens the door for you after you’ve tried, unsuccessfully, put the key in the lock. You stumble to the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed. He follows you and stands in front of you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. He nods for affirmative. “I really liked it when you kissed me today” your face feels hot, but you’re unsure if it is because of the conversation or the alcohol in your blood. He smiles but doesn’t say anything. “I mean, I know it was only for work purposes, but I liked it! And I really like you, even though I haven’t known you for long” you confess, unable to stop. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I was totally out of line. But you’re cute and I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s alright”.

He kneels in front of you and you’re sure you could melt under his gaze. “I liked it too,” he admits. You feel like you could scream from excitement. Instead, you lean in to kiss him. His hand raises to your jaw he deepens the kiss, but just for a moment before pulling away.

“I want you, Aaron” you confess before you even realize it left your mouth. He doesn’t say anything, which makes you panic. You don’t want to scare him away. “Do you not find me attractive?” you pout.

“Oh, (Y/N), that’s not the case. You are gorgeous and definitely a character I’d love to get to know. But you’ve had a few too many to drink tonight, so nothing else is going to happen tonight.” he sighs. “Just get some rest. There’s always tomorrow”.

You nod. You know he’s right, but you’re still disappointed. You climb up to bed and under the covers. It doesn’t take you a long time to fall asleep. The last thing you remember of that night is him heading towards the door and you telling him “Aaron hotchner, you’re a good man”.

He wishes you good night, but you’re already far off to dreamland.

--

You’re standing on the elevator, on your way back up. This time your destination is the fifth floor, instead of your own home floor. You have a big white box on your arms that you’re trying to carry as smoothly as possible. When the elevator comes to a stop, you feel a little sting in your head, but you try to ignore it and back into the now-familiar-bullpen through the glass doors. You try to hide your hangover behind a big smile and head to the few desks you know Hotchner’s team sits in.

“Hey guys!” you greet them and get their attention. “I brought you something” You put down the white box and open it, revealing muffins and donuts. There’s a bakery close to your apartment and the goods looked too perfect to leave in there.

Everyone looked at you with a big smile and reached inside the box to get something sweet for their day. “What are these for?” a blond, young woman asks. You see a name tag on her; Agent Jennifer Jareau. She bites into the muffin she chose and leans back on her chair, enjoying it with full heart.

“I wanted to apologize for how I acted yesterday. I was out of line and rude, for no reason. And that’s not the way I want you all to think I am”. You looked at each of the agents and you feel like your apology is being taken well, everyone eating the sweets gratefully.

“Oh that’s all forgiven, especially with treats like these” Tara reassures.

You’re thankful for their response and it makes you feel better. You’ve felt bad all morning about how you behaved the day before, and you wanted to think of something to make up for it. You turn to look towards the same office you were inside of last night, seeing a familiar face, concentrated frown on his face.

“Which one do you think he’d prefer?” You ask the team, referring to their leader. Because who else would know better than his team, who he spends a big part of his time with. The team tells you that the man loves classics, so you go with a basic, chocolate covered donut. You grab yourself a muffin and head to his office.

“Hey there!” he greets you before you manage to knock his office door “Come on in”. You do as he tells you and go to take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. You hand him the donut and you love the little, childlike smile on his face.

“I came to apologize to your team. And you, of course” you explain. “I was way out of line yesterday and I put you through a lot. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you nor your team. And about last night”.

“There’s no need. I understand where it was coming from. And what comes to last night, I had a good time” he takes a bite of the donut, and you’re sure you made the right choice. He looks content.

“Also, I wanted to come say ‘thank you’ for taking me home last night. I was in pretty bad shape. I forgot my own limits, because I was a bit nervous around you” he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. “Like I said last night. I like you, and it got me nervous because I haven’t liked anyone like that in a long time,” You feel yourself rambling, so you shut yourself up by taking a bite of your pastry.

He takes a moment to answer, and it makes you even more nervous. “That’s a big job to put on a single donut” he states, his face totally blank. His unexpected comment makes you laugh.

“That is true. It might be a bit too much for just a donut. What else could I do to prove it?” you ask once you’ve calmed down from your laugh.

“Let me take you out for dinner tonight. This time, not for work purposes”

aglist: @ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @luckyladycreator2 ( mention or message me if you want to be added)

[viridiave]

Daylight Prairie- Creatures of the Light (lore dump)

I've had a couple of theories and headcanons stirring around my head regarding Prairie for a while now- so right here we're gonna tie some of them together cuz I haven't lored in a good long while XD

Note- btw I'm not part of beta so this is purely just me- a crackhead- putting together a crackpot narrative. SOME spoilers for Eden are present.

<THE CEREMONIAL WORSHIPPERS>

okay these guys drive me fucking nuts

We barely know anything about these guys- and what little we do know is derived purely from their closed off uh... Worshipping space. Look at this freaking thing.

In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by clouds for miles. Fairly advanced diamond technology. Altars with graves decked out in gold and candles. The mechanism for the entrance to the elevator to begin with is fairly complex as well- activated by butterflies and the butterflies don't even die in the process. And to top everything off, this place has a portal that leads directly to the Prairie Temple.

If this isn't sus I don't know what is- but I think I have an explanation.

There are six spaces for six more people that we are not aware of. The only people we DO know of is one bald person in the short garb and another bald person in the long garb. I propose that these six missing people are the Whisperers.

Which is... pretty out there, I know. Counting the 'voices' that we get in game, (including the ones from previous Seasons like Lightseekers and Sanctuary) we have one for Birds, Whales, Mantas, Memories, Crabs, and Jellyfish. For now, we're not counting either Butterflies or Krill- and I'll explain why in a bit.

As for the initial proposition that these Whisperers are the missing six, first we need to ask ourselves what exactly it was that the Worshippers were... worshipping. There is a possible god of which we see in game, and the name of this god is the Megabird.

Megabird here was heavily present in concepts, and in the final product we only ever get to see traces of her and heck to this day we're not sure if she's a canon entity in the final game at all. Megabird as an entity in the concepts is basically the god overseeing the world of Sky and is comprised entirely of light. It's unclear whether or not the Ancestors were aware of her existence after or even before the King rose to power. The Elders themselves are likely privy to this information, but somehow I doubt that it's something anyone wanting to assert control over their people would encourage.

There's certainly the possibility that these Worshippers were a religious sect dedicated to the Elders themselves- but since I'm here trying to propose that they're worshipping something tangential to the possible actual god, we're going to assume this isn't the case. On that note-

<THE WORSHIPPERS WERE DEVOUT TO LIGHT ITSELF>

I propose that the Ceremonial Worshippers valued the Light above all else- and this worship was extended towards the light creatures themselves.

'Oi. Vir. Crabs are DARK Creatures.'

Not all of them. Heck, a dark crab might not have been the norm back then, but that's a stretch and besides- the fact is that these crabs on the far end of Sanctuary are docile.

Keep in mind that these followers were stationed in Prairie, of all places. You know what else is in Prairie? Sanctuary Isles- home to several kinds of manta, butterflies, jellyfish, and even the elusive Elder Manta (yes that's what the big chonky boi that looks like a light krill is called- it's not a whale.).  Daylight Prairie is in no shortage of light creatures- and at the center of it all is its Elder.

Prairie Elder is implied to have responsibilities toward the light creatures as presented in the SkyShop poem featuring them:

'Fields of harvest, prairies of joy.

Farmer and fauna as one.

The Elder protects the creatures of light,

For darkened days to come.

Fly up, fly away,

For the Children of Light in need.

We shall recall our days of wonder,

And feel its air once more.'

-SkyShop Poem (Prairie Elder Pin)

In the greater context of the story, Daylight Prairie is the primary source of light energy in the form of the light creatures- it makes sense that the Elder of that realm would oversee the flow of light creatures from one realm to the other, and that the Ancestors in their domain would have a greater respect for the creatures than others. They're the ones working with them, and they're the ones that know them best.

Enter the Worshippers- who were likely serving directly under the Prairie Elder. I'm not confident that the Prairie Elder could have shared information about the Megabird- or if they even know the god existed. 'The Light itself' is pretty vague for something to be worshipped, and it's possible that the Prairie Elder instead encouraged people that the Light manifested itself into the various light creatures that we see.

In this world however- industrialization marches on, and eventually these light creatures became things to be harvested rather than worshipped. It's speculated that light creatures were used in the production of diamonds- we see signs of this scattered throughout Forest, and Wasteland by proxy. The mural under the bridge in Forest and the doors to the Temple seem to suggest as much at least. Eventually, this industrialization will grow out of hand. I have a few theories on what the Prairie Elder might have done to passively rebel against this.

<PRAIRIE ELDER AND THE BUTTERFLIES>

We learn in the Prairie Elder's cutscene that they are able to form- not summon- butterflies from fire. I'm not proposing that the Prairie Elder is single-handedly responsible for the existence of butterflies- rather I'm proposing through the Prairie Elder's abilities that light is able to be manipulated in such a way that one can create light creatures, should they know how.

It could just be the butterflies, honestly. And really it could just be the Prairie Elder that's capable of such a feat- and because of these holes in this theory it's the first to go.

And yes this is the reason why the Butterflies don't count. I think. That has holes too and I can make a case for the Butterfly Charmer technically being part of this... But I digress.

<SANCTUARY ISLES>

Sanctuary Islands could be a literal Sanctuary for the light creatures- there is an impressive variety of them present. It's also very out of the way, tucked away in a corner of Bird's Nest. The theory I'm proposing here is that the Prairie Elder and the Sanctuary Guide worked together to keep this place hidden from the rest of the Kingdom- and that it was the Sanctuary Guide that broke the bells that would have granted the Ancestors access to the light creatures.

<THE WORSHIPPERS DISBANDED>

This is... probably improbable, but my whole post was leading up to this so we're doing this. The missing six Worshippers are the Whisperers that we've encountered throughout the game- leaving in order to either develop their relationship with or protect their creatures of choice.

The Bird Whisperer stayed close and remained in Prairie- and is probably the reason why Bird's Nest exists at all. The Jellyfish Whisperer remained as well, opting to stay in Sanctuary- the natural habitat of the jellyfish.

The Whale Whisperer ventured to Forest- where there probably once was a small population of Whales, given the corpse we see in the Bridge Area and the live Whale in the Underground Cavern.

The Manta Whisperer went to Valley- I'm guessing to see how mantas were being used for labor and competitions? And Valley is right next to Wasteland so I might be reaching but they could have been monitoring that too.

The Crab Whisperer is a tricky one because we see them travelling with the Lightseekers, and yes I am proposing that this lady was formerly a Worshipper. But because we're dealing with a creature that we now know is more dark than light, maybe the Crab Whisperer joined the Lightseekers in order to observe that phenomenon more closely? Because she does refer to the crabs as friends in her SkyShop poem. Wasteland wasn't always a... wasteland, after all. Things could have been different, and the crabs could have been adapting in a time where they would be relatively dangerous but not so much that an Ancestor couldn't approach them.

And then there's the Memory Whisperer. For this one, I don't think a spirit manta actually exists- at least, not as an organic creature and moreso just an interactive holograph courtesy of the machinations of Vault. I'm actually not too sure on what this person could have been doing, but they have a call- and my best guess is that the Memory Whisperer is one who listens to the last vestiges of light leftover by a creature- because we do see skeletons in Vault, and one is of a creature that looks like an amalgamation of several spirit mantas.

<WHY DON'T THE KRILL COUNT?>

As far back as Prophecy, Krill don't appear to be aligned with the light. They aren't depicted as former light creatures, nor a corrupted variant of an elder manta or whale- they are presented as thenselves in that Prophecy mural. Though I'm sure we'll get a Krill call later on, I'm not going to count them until then.

<CONCLUSION...?>

This huge post is... full of holes and heavy speculation, I'm aware. Mostly I just wanted to dump a bunch of shower thoughts and leftover lore I came up in the Discord lore chat. Go check it out sometime, I've derived a few points in this from interacting with people there. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this matter, by the way- it's fun theorizing! I haven't done this seriously in a long while.

[pregnant-javert]

Swinging a bat at a hornet's nest #blessed

Buckle up because I have brakenight thoughts, that one ask wasn't enough, and I just wanna rant about them for a little while…if you like Audrey/Till/brakenight/not being annoyed about stuff I would suggest you don’t read the rest of this. (Ok but please read. I spent a long time making this look nice and reasonable and not like a raging chaos gremlin wrote it, so…) @train-pirate did this first and honestly their's is better but im still gonna say my thing now.

By the way, these are all MY OWN OPINIONS, and don’t count against anyone in the fandom! All my criticism is levied against the writers who made these characters this way. Frankly the writing of the fandom is often better than what the writers put out, so there’s that.

I have problems with this ship and they have only gotten more intense the more I think about it, and the more I see gifsets and the more I see the ways the show could have gone, I’m made more and more mad about by the goddamn day! I need to rant about it and then I won’t say anything more about it (at least not like this). But here are three valid/maybe not so valid reasons I don’t like this ship:

It represents how damn LAZY the writers have gotten.

Honestly nothing about this relationship makes sense and it is so egregiously rushed. in 3x01, Audrey and Till really don’t like each other. Audrey is firmly on Wilford’s side, she’s bitchy and backstabby and generally isn’t very nice to anyone around her. Till doesn’t like her in return; she’s constantly sniping and acting like Audrey is an annoyance (which she is!). And yet, contrast that to 3x10 when Till gives up her CHANCE TO NEW EDEN with all her friends and all her supporters for one girl who a few weeks ago she didn’t even like - and disliked enough to conk her over the head with a hammer, even! And this is the crux of it; the relationship is rushed and unbelievable and hastily cobbled together to give Audrey and Till character development which they couldn’t be bothered to take the long way around for.

Audrey needs a redemption and to become nice again - so instead of apologising to those she has hurt, trying to be better, she just gets slapped with a girlfriend so she can become a soft uwu lesbian. Yay, she's good again, because she spent a few days sadly playing guitar and doing therapy with Till! Yuck. 

Till…not sure what they wanted for her but she is the epitome of wasted potential, holy shit. Again I think they just wanted to tie her down a little more, so they give her a relationship that a) she never really gave an indication of wanting and b) with someone she does not deserve to be saddled with. LIKE HELLO? Also she got turned into a soft uwu lesbian as well, like yeah she was a bit naive and innocent before but where the fuck has her character gone?

Fucking…I just…don’t like the soft uwu lesbian trope.

I don’t know why but that trope drives me up the damn wall, and I don’t even have a good reason why. It just icks me out, which is ironic considering that was pretty much all I wrote for a solid six months, if not a year. Idk like…it just seems antithetical to their characters. But that’s just me. Too many puppies and kittens and shit, lol. I don’t like happy stuff (jk)

Way too much! Way too fast!

WHY??? They’ve known each other for six months, sure, but why are they all getting cuddly and deep about their feelings so soon? Honestly they should have made Brakenight be a thing in the pirate train arc, that would have made more sense. Also it just feels like a waste of screentime - so we don’t get Asha but we get this? Sorry, dislike it!

I don't exactly want either of these characters to be alone. That's not a good feeling for any character! (as any Ruth-lover can attest) however I want the characters to be in considered, realistic relationships that seem more respectful to their arcs and journeys and not just shoved together because they happen to be the Only Gays in the Village Death Train. Honestly this is weird because I do actually care about these characters; I wouldn't be so mad if I didn't care about them this much, I just wanted so so much for them and it kills me that they've become the new casualties of lazy and unconsidered writing.

[bruhlsbees]

THAT SHIT HURTED PLS SAY YOUR WORKING ON SOMETHING SEROTONIN GIVING NEXT

yes.....no......maybe??? idk here is a soft moment between alex and reader pre-goodbye, lenin!

at the cabin || alex kerner x fem!reader

summary: you spend the weekend with alex at his family cabin

pairing: alex kerner x fem!reader

word count: 1,429

warnings: sexual tension???? maybe????? maybe spoilers for garden of eden???

a/n: pls accept this soft moment as pay for what is to come in the fic - yes this also gives away some of alex's own thoughts towards reader so now the real question is.....what happened from this point to where we are in garden of eden.....

It was Alex’s idea to go to his old family cabin for the weekend to celebrate graduating from school. He wanted to do something just the two of you and after convincing his mother that you two weren’t going to do anything stupid, she finally agreed.

“Mama, please, she’s been Alex’s friend for years. If they were doing stuff, don’t you think we’d know?” Ariane questioned from her spot at the dining table, pausing from her cup of coffee.

“Ariane!” Alex whined, glaring at Ariane who could only laugh. He shook his head and returned his gaze back to his mother who was ironing one of her shirts, “Mama, her grandparents said it was fine. It’ll only be for the weekend.”

You were seated on the couch, watching as Christiane continued to iron, sitting in thought before finally stopping, propping the iron up so it wouldn’t burn her shirt and looking at Alex, then you, then back at Alex.

“I want you to call me when you get there, I don’t want anyone else there and for the love of all - Alex, don’t get her pregna-”

“Mama!”

You couldn’t help the snicker that came from you, looking over at Ariane who was trying to stifle her own laugh. Alex and you were nothing more than friends, and part of you wondered if Christiane really did know and just liked to see her poor son get riled up.

It didn’t take much more convincing after that. Christiane meeting your grandparents and both exchanging phone numbers, giving you the rundown on how ‘one mistake can lead to a lifetime of being a parent’. God, did they have to be so serious?

So when you finally arrived at the cabin, you didn’t even let Alex stop the car you borrowed from you grandfather, jumping out of the car and running in to be the first to grab the room you wanted. You had hardly made it down the hall before you heard Alex trampling in behind you, catching you by your waist and pulling you down to the floor before you could grab the master bedroom.

You let out a string of giggles as he held you down by your waist, his fingers sinking into your hips as he hovered over you, panting from the heat. When he began to tickle you, making you squirm under him, your face began to grow red.

“A-Alex! Please, stop!” You pleaded through your laughs, leaning up and into his chest, trying to push him off you, but your hands only seemed to cling to the front of his shirt, hoping that he would stop before you began to cramp up.

And he finally did, slowly his fingers stopped digging into your waist and fell to your thighs, pulling back to look at you. Your eyes were glazed over with tears from laughing so hard, your mouth slacked open to catch your breath.

“You’re a punk.” You breathed, shaking your head before grinning as he leaned in, kissing your cheek before pulling back and standing up, picking up his bag and extending his hand out to help you up and heading with you into the master bedroom.

“If Mama knew we were sharing a bed, I think she’d fall into a coma.” He noted, watching as you threw your own bag onto the ground before taking the right side of the bed, patting the space down beside you for him to lay down. He did, climbing in the bed before laying on his stomach, head resting against you while you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s why we aren’t telling Mama, now, are we?” You smiled and ran your thumb down the side of Alex’s face, tucking his hair behind his ear while he closed his eyes, leaning into your side more as he enjoyed the moment. It was hot, too hot to be laying in bed and having him on you, but you’d suffer through the heat to have him close.

It was wrong of you, you knew that, to have a crush on your best friend. But it was Alex and Alex was, well Alex. He was perfect in every way imaginable and you couldn’t help but fall for him - any girl would if they took the time to really get to know him. While you wished more people would appreciate Alex for who he was, you were glad that you had him to yourself...whether that was selfish of you or not.

“Did you pack your suit?” Alex asked you suddenly, pushing himself off of you and the bed, moving to his bag to pull out his swim trunks, “I’m sweating, I think we should go swimming.”

You watched as he headed out of the room, going into the bathroom to change into his suit, not giving you the time to decline the idea of swimming. You’d be a fool though to say no given how hot it was out.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you dug through your bag and pulled out your suit, pushing off your clothes that you wore out to the cabin and slipping on your bottoms, adjusting the top before reaching your arms behind you to tie up the strings.

You weren’t sure if it was the heat or if you were just a fool to triple knot your suit the last time you had been swimming, but you were struggling awfully to untie the suit and retie it so it would fit you better. Groaning, your fingers fumbled at the knot, desperately trying to dig your nails in to loosen it up.

“Hey! You read-”

Jumping in your spot, you clung to the front of your top and turned, seeing Alex standing in the doorway, mouth open as he tried to turn his attention elsewhere, feeling guilty now for barging in on you while you were still getting ready.

“Sorry, I-” Alex couldn’t find the words, the only thing falling from his mouth were stutters and hums. You shook your head, waving him off before turning back around, lifting your hair up.

“If it weren’t so hot I’d probably lecture you on not knocking, but please, can you just help me tie this up? I tied it too many times last time. It’s stuck.” You explained, glancing over your shoulder to him.

At first Alex had to really process what you were asking of him. He had seen you only a handful of times in a suit, but the heat exhaustion was really playing with him today. When he finally came back from his thoughts, he crossed the room quickly and his fingers found the back of your suit, his knuckles grazing your back as he slowly untied the strings.

He felt his breath hitch into his throat, staring down the curve of your back as it led into your bum. Alex tried to keep his eyes focused on the knot he was tying, trying to not get distracted by your ass and how good it looked in your swim bottoms.

No, no this is wrong. She’s your best friend, you can’t be looking at her like this.

It was the same mantra he had to tell himself like all times before since becoming your friend.

You were his best friend.

Nothing would happen between you.

He had to let you go.

But he didn’t want to. No, he didn’t want you to be with any other guy, he wanted you to be with him. So why couldn’t it just be that easy? Was he scared of the possibility of you turning him down if he told you how he felt? Yes, and he couldn’t lose you.

And if you knew how he had been thinking all this time, things would be different. Of course they would be different, you wouldn’t be standing in front of him practically shaking because of how your stomach flipped when you felt his fingers lightly graze against your skin. If things were different, how you wish they were, maybe then you’d finally be able to-

“There, all set,” You heard Alex announce, taking a step back from behind you and watching you drop your hair down, turning to look at him. He had a small smile on his face, looking you once over before motioning towards the door, “Come on, let’s get going, yeah?”

You nodded in agreement and smiled, following behind him as the two of you headed out of the cabin and outside to the backyard to finally enjoy the cool water on the hot summer day.

[swaps55]

Eulogia

With MELE imminent, sharing a scene I wrote a long time ago, in which Kaidan Alenko mourns Ashley Williams after Virmire, and discovers he isn’t mourning alone. 

From here. 

~

The cargo bay was quiet when the elevator doors opened. Most of the crew had dispersed to the Citadel, leaving Kaidan mercifully alone in the cavernous space. Slowly he made his way towards the lockers, the scar tissue and healing sinews in his abdomen like a knot that someone had doused with gasoline and set on fire.

But still healing.  

(This is it. This is how I’m going to die.)

Kaidan exhaled.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the numbers in his HUD, always hovering right above zero, a perpetuating terminus never quite reached, never quite avoided.

When he reached the lockers he stopped, hand halfway to the one marked, Williams, A.

If he went by the book this should be Gladstone’s job. There was no reason it shouldn’t be Gladstone’s job.

(You know it’s the right choice.)

But it wasn’t Gladstone’s job.

The click of the locker door echoed loud enough that he flinched before drawing in a deep breath and pulling it all the way open. She hadn’t lied about her uniforms. Every shirt hung crisp and straight on its hanger, in sharp contrast to the chaotic pile of belongings tossed heedlessly on the ground below it. The pile was so impressive he was actually afraid to take anything out, for fear it would cause an outright avalanche. In spite of himself he shook his head and smiled a little.

“Somehow this is exactly what I expected from you,” he said under his breath. He heard a creak behind him and whipped his head around, heart rate thudding as though he expected to find her peering over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. A flush crept up the back of his neck.

Of course there was nothing. Ashley was dead.

His gripped the locker door until his knuckles whitened, leaned his forehead briefly against it. The metal felt cool and hard against his skin. He swallowed once. Twice.  

Eventually he straightened with a sigh, tugging at his uniform and rolling his shoulder, as though he could somehow shake Ashley off like working out a crick in his neck.  By the time his fingers brushed the cloth of her fatigues their subtle quiver had been swallowed up by the hard-earned discipline he’d practiced so diligently ever since Jump Zero.

(Kaidan Alenko. Always looking for the sure thing. Everything needs to be perfectly defined and spelled out for you, doesn’t it? Sometimes the unknown can be a little exciting, too.)

A static spark stung his finger as he emptied the hangers. He jerked his hand back, muttering, used to the burn, never the timing. Slowly he reached back in, painstakingly folding each shirt with precision he hadn’t employed since Basic.

(You find a wrinkle in my uniform and I’ll clean your pistol for a month.)

He made each crease razor sharp. Not a wrinkle to be found.

Once the clothing had been stored, he began taking apart the pile she had accumulated in her locker. Datapads with poetry. She liked Cummings and Yeats, Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. He remembered Joker saying something about Heinlein. Kaidan hadn’t intended to look through them, but shortly he found himself cross-legged on the floor, skimming through lines and verses. It was easy to tell her favorites – she’d annotated them heavily. Underlined phrases, personal reflections. In some cases she’d made notes that he didn’t understand, such as the one beside a line from a poem by Elizabeth Browning that simply read, Josh, and in parenthesis (the little shit).

She also had a copy of the Bible, which gave him pause. It wasn’t a datapad either but an actual book, pages dog-eared, corners bent and turned down, small makeshift bookmarks such as scraps of paper, paper clips, even a hair tie, sticking out at all angles. Like the datapads it was covered in notes, but all of these handwritten, in scripts of multiple hands. Some tiny and neat, others broad and flowing. Though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sample of Ashley’s handwriting he immediately found one he thought had to be hers – small but hurried, with the occasional loopy flourish. It tended to start out neat, but quickly deteriorated when her hand couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, until it was nearly illegible.

The inside cover contained four handwritten paragraphs, each in a different script that he recognized from the subsequent pages. Each a note from parent to child, passing the heirloom on with messages of faith and love. Four generations of Williams, right there on one page.

Kaidan ran his fingers across the script, tracing the shallow grooves the pen made against the paper. General David Williams, of Shanxi infamy, bequeathing it to his son Matthew Williams, with a note.

Our faith is our legacy. We keep to it and carry on, no matter the cost. And when that task is difficult, remember those who’ve walked a harder road with lesser reward. We are blessed. I am blessed. Because I have you.

Serviceman Williams then wrote to his daughter, There’s a great wide universe out there waiting for you. I hope you explore it to the fullest. If you ever get lost, look here and see if you can’t find your way. Remember, kiddo. Ad aspera per astra.

Kaidan’s hands loosened, allowing the book’s spine to droop. A few pages whispered past his thumb. The hair tie bookmark fell out, ghosting to the floor without fanfare.

He snatched it up with a hot flash of guilt and held it aloft. What page did it come from? What place had he lost? How important had it been?

He didn’t know.

There was so much he didn’t know. So much he’d never learn.

He stared at the hair tie. Nothing more than a simple strip of dark blue elastic, still twined with a few strands of long, dark brown hair. She probably had a few dozen just like it. She’d worn two in her hair, at all times. One to pull it back into a ponytail, one to wrap around the thick twist of her bun and secure it in place. Usually she kept a third around her wrist, just for emergencies.

But they were never enough to hold back those few stubborn, errant strands that inevitably pulled free to waft about her face.

Moisture burned the corner of his eyes. His fingers curled around the small token, and he put his newly formed fist to his mouth to stifle the sound brewing in his throat. One choked sob got through before he swallowed the rest back, chest aching from the effort. He wicked a thumb across his eyes, hastily tucked the hair tie back between the pages and set the book aside.

This wasn’t his. The grief and memories trapped within the Bible’s covers were for her family, not for him.

But it shouldn’t be for anyone. It should be his things exposed to the harsh light of the cargo bay, meticulously sorted and stored, itemized on a manifest and marked for shipping back to Vancouver, care of Marc and Lora Alenko.

His throat tightened, hitching breath loud against the silent backdrop of the cargo bay. Not even the sound of the engines to provide some white noise.

Nothing like this would be found among his own belongings. He spoke to his folks a couple of times a year. Hadn’t been back to Vancouver in almost three. When he did it tended to be strained small talk and careful avoidance of anything to do with the mutated eezo nodes lurking under his skin. He’d actually thought running off to the Alliance might help. Follow in his father’s footstep. Give them something in common. That, of course, and he’d had nowhere else to go.

Would his own family have mourned him the way Ashley Williams’ would mourn her?

Would she?

Stop.

He raked a hand through his hair, fingers eventually coming to rest against his forehead. His head felt heavy. Too heavy to hold up, like a lead weight.

(They’re more important. We’re as good as dead up here anyway.)

He wondered who would inherit the Bible now that Ashley was gone. One of her sisters, maybe. Sisters who probably had yet to learn about what had happened down on Virmire.

(Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?)

(This bomb is going off! No matter what.)

No matter what. 0.00. He’d been ready for it. Ready for anything. Except Shepard’s hand, grabbing him by the arm.

Further down in the pile he found smaller items. Toiletries. A stuffed hanar, of all things. A bottle of liquor she must have picked up on Noveria.

(Just for the record, I’d look damn good in a dress.)

He swallowed against a lump in his throat, chest constricting. He could see her so clearly, standing at the railing in Port Hanshan, alternating between slouching and gripping the rail with her hands and leaning back on her heels.

(I’m not most people.)

No. She hadn’t been.

He found some packing material for the liquor. It was scotch, an asari brand, maybe purchased to share with Liara. Why it hadn’t been drunk he couldn’t say. Maybe she just ran out of time.  

Next was a holo album containing a few photos. People he didn’t recognize. A woman that looked too much like her not to be her mother. A young girl with a grin he recognized from those brief moments in the comm room. Before…

Stop!

Kaidan put the holo aside, then rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Took a deep breath in. Let it out slow. Clamped his eyes shut. For a moment, everything shook. His hands. The air in his lungs. His skin felt hot, but prickled with gooseflesh.  

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

Eventually he opened his eyes. Went back to the pile. Finish it, marine. Don’t leave her hanging.

In all her possessions were scant, just what she’d been able to obtain or accumulate since they’d picked her up on Eden Prime. In fact, how the Bible and holo album had even managed to catch up with her struck him as a bit of a mystery.

But when he got to the bottom of the pile his hand froze, mouth dry as a shock of white hot cold strummed the length of his spine, numbness dulling his fingers until they felt thick and clumsy.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, she’d died in her combat gear. Not her fatigues. Of course they would be here.

This time no amount of discipline could overcome his shaking hands as he picked one up and turned it over in his palms.

A neon green boot with matching laces, so bright they nearly glowed in the dim light of the cargo bay.

His gut clenched, chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, the edges of his vision blurring until something hot and wet spilled over onto his cheeks.

(Come on.)

(Whoa, where are we going? Anderson said to wait here.)

(Come on, LT. Think we’ll ever get to poke around here again? Live a little.)

Only he hadn’t. She’d been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t.  

(Tell me you haven’t thought about this.)

(Thinking’s not the same as doing. Maybe, once all this is behind us…)

He dropped the boot, back slamming against the lockers as he buried his head in his hands, the grief that he’d stored down deep in his chest ever since that timer reached zero breaching the damn in a flood of hot tears. He wept himself hollow, hot, swollen and aching, exhaustion creeping in until he felt it laying heavily over his skin, behind his eyes, in the pit of his stomach. Then he just sat silent, eyes red and heavy, arms resting on his knees.

A hulking shape appeared above him. Had he not felt so drained he might have cared more about discovering he hadn’t been alone after all. But when Wrex’s red, horny crest came into view he met the krogan’s fierce stare without shame. Whatever the krogan had to say, he was beyond giving a damn.

“She was a warrior worth mourning,” Wrex said.

Kaidan straightened his posture with mild surprise, but said nothing.

“Shepard chose his companions well. Even those I at first didn’t give him credit for.” He offered a scaly hand, which Kaidan accepted warily. Wrex hauled him effortlessly to his feet, and gave him a brusque nod.

“You are krantt.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure how to respond, but Wrex saved him the trouble by ambling away without further comment. The krogan had been nearly invisible since their return from Virmire. After finding him here Kaidan wasn’t even sure if he’d even left the ship.

He hadn’t considered the possibility that a krogan might mourn a human soldier. But Ashley…had that effect on people.

With a wipe of his eyes Kaidan began piling Ashley’s things into a crate. Once the locker was empty he sealed it, then closed the crate up as well and entered it into the ship’s inventory for the requisitions offer to offload and send to her family. By the time he finished, his grief had been replaced by grim, dogged resolve.

We’re coming for you, Saren. May God help you, you bastard.  

[fan4196]

Wedding guests

Hey everyone here's a new little fluffy fic. Hope you like it. Enjoy!

Thanks again @angry-slytherin 💜

-

"Alex could you come help me?"

They have half an hour until they really have to go, otherwise they will be late. Which isn't abnormal for the Karev family. It really is a wonder when they get somewhere in time. In the end they can always blame it on the kids.

But to be honest they really had their struggles with the little Karevs. Especially since their little baby girl Eden joined them three weeks ago.

Before Eden's birth they had quite a routine, but now they are out numbered and really struggle from time to time. Like right now.

Even though they got up at six this morning to have two hours of spare time, they have to hurry now. Time really flows by different when you have kids. After they got up Alex and Jo used the quiet, childless time to take a shower together, they had breakfast and started to get themselves ready. Then they woke up the twins and started their morning routine. Alex fed them breakfast while Jo fed the smallest Karev. After that they got the kids ready.

Alex is just fixing his sons bow tie when he hears his wife's call.

"Alright, buddy go downstairs to your sister and watch some TV, mommy and I will be there in a second." With that his son is already gone.

Walking through the door of their bedroom he couldn't see his wife at first. Only their baby girl lying in the middle of their bed surrounded by pillows, contently sucking on her pacifier. She's dressed in a little grey dress with a matching bow on her head. As soon as he reaches her, to place a kiss on her tiny nose, his wife comes out of their en-suite bathroom, taking his breath as his jaw drops.

"Wow- You look incredible." She's dressed in a dark blue jump suit that emphasizes the curves of her body just perfectly, not telling that this woman had a baby only three weeks ago. Jo answers him with a smile while she walkes to the closet to grab something.

"Close your mouth. You're starting to drool all over my carpet." She comments jokingly, while she walkes back to the bed. Now standing in front of him he puts both of his hands on her hips, just staring at her. She knows exactly what he's thinking.

"I have to disappoint you but we do not have the ok from my OB yet. So no easy wedding sex for you this time, I'm sorry baby." Her hands stroke his cheeks and the back of his head while he pulls her closer to steal a kiss from her.

"Oh stop that crap, I can renounce sex for a little longer. Your body needs to heal and it's allowed to do that because this perfect, tiny human came out of it." Pointing towards their daughter he gives his wife another kiss before he lets go of her. "But you called me for something."

"Yes. You need to help me with this." She grabs the dark blue scarf like thing that she got from the closet.

"We need to figure out how this works."

Alex is confused. "Ok first of all that the hell is that?" He really has no idea what that thing in his wife's hands is.

"It's a baby sling, Alex. I bought it for the wedding so it matches my outfit." And now he's scared. Alex can't remember much but he had a really bad memory when the pot cookies went around the hospital. He remembers that sling he wore for like five seconds in Mer's house, until it fell of with a baby in it.

"Oh don't make that face, Alex. I know you had a traumatic experience with a baby sling when you were high, but I also told you a hundred times that it was not Hunt's baby that you dropped it was a freaking teddy bear." Jo's laughing at him, just like the night she picked him up from Amelia and Owen's House and he told her in the car that he might have crushed and then dropped Hunts new baby.

She was laughing even harder after she called Amelia, when they were home and she told Jo that it was a bag of chips that Alex crushed and a teddy bear which he dropped.

And now she's laughing again. But it's true. That day really left some kind of traumatic scar in Alex.

Watching his wife trying to put on the cloth, Alex sits down beside his daughter and gets his phone out.

"Let me google how you do that crap, before you drop my precious baby girl because we knotted this thing wrong." Looking down on his phone, searching for an easy instruction, his wife is trying to figure it out on her own.

"This can't be to difficult, right? It's just a long scarf that you put around yourself and your baby." But it isn't as easy as is seams.

"Ok here. I found a YouTube video. Ok you have to find the middle. Now grap it from above and put it on your stomach like a pinafore. Now cross it behind your back and put it over your shoulders. Look, like that." He pauses the video and shows Jo what it should look like. "Now you put the baby inside. Then you do the rest- wow, that crap is complicated."

Looking up from his phone he's surprised to find his daughter in a perfectly knotted sling on his wife's chest.

"My wife is a freaking genius." Alex smirks at Jo, while she kisses the head of their baby. Looking up from Eden, she unties the baby sling again.

"I think I got it. Let's go. Can you grab my shoes?" She's already out the door with their daughter still on her chest.

Alex grabs her shoes and follows her downstairs.

While Jo straps Eden into her car seat, Alex gets the twins and they head out with only fifteen minutes delay.

+

"It was a nice ceremony. Not as good as ours but still good." With his arm around his wife, they are sitting at their table. They are done with eating and now everyone is dancing. Except Alex and Jo. They are still sitting on their, now empty, table watching their children dance with their aunts and uncles.

Alex is stroking Jo's left shoulder while she is stroking their sleeping daughters back. Strapped to her mother's chest she slept through the whole ceremony and is still sleeping despite the loud music.

"Mmhh it was. But come on it's hard to top a wedding on a ferry boat after the official wedding was canceled due to late guests, a missing bridal couple that locked themselves in a shed after hot wedding sex next to a corpse and their wedding planer almost dying. Or did you mean the other one that we had because we forgot to mail in our marriage license? Yeah it's also hard to top a Halloween wedding in costumes and news of a pregnancy during vows." Jo has to smile while joking about their two weddings.

"Our weddings were both perfect because they were just as screwed up as we are. To be honest we should get married a third time only to see what would happen." Alex says while looking at his wife.

"If this was another proposal of yours, I have to say that you didn't learn much from your first one, because I didn't hear a 'Will you marry me?' or a "marry me again.'" Jo's now looking into Alex's eyes while she has to smirk.

"No, it wasn't a proposal. I've learned from my mistakes. This was just me telling you that I would marry you again any time if you want." Jo's eyes soften and her heart melts by his words.

"Awww, I'll let you know when I want to marry you again, Alex Karev." Leaning forwards she presses her lips on his.

"Let's dance, Princess." He's already standing, holding his hand out for Jo.

With one hand on their daughters back and the other one in Alex's, she follows him to the dance floor. He puts his hands on her hips, while both of her hands find their way to his neck. Dancing as close as they can with their daughter between them.

"I love you, Josephine Karev."

"Love you too, Jerk."

[rainingpouringetc]

ya know what? fine. tlh characters as poems.

this is a long post and i don’t even have all the characters lol anyway without further ado...

Alastair Carstairs :: “The Breather” by Billy Collins

Just as in the horror movies when someone discovers that the phone calls are coming from inside the house

so too, I realized that our tender overlapping has been taking place only inside me.

All that sweetness, the love and desire— it’s just been me dialing myself then following the ringing to another room

to find no one on the line, well, sometimes a little breathing but more often than not, nothing.

To think that all this time— which would include the boat rides, the airport embraces, and all the drinks—

it’s been only me and the two telephones, the one on the wall in the kitchen and the extension in the darkened guest room upstairs.

Cordelia Carstairs :: “Meteor Shower” by Clint Smith

I read somewhere that meteor showers are almost always named after

the constellations from which they originate. It’s funny, I think,

how even the universe is telling us that we can never get too far

from the place that created us. How there is always a streak of our past

trailing closely behind us like a smattering of obstinate memories.

Even when we enter a new atmosphere, become subsumed in flames, turn to dust,

lose ourselves in the wind, and scatter the surface of all that rests beneath us,

we bring a part of where we are from to every place we go.

Matthew Fairchild :: “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

James Herondale :: “Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II)” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied   Who told me time would ease me of my pain!   I miss him in the weeping of the rain;   I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side,   And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;   But last year's bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.   There are a hundred places where I fear   To go,—so with his memory they brim.   And entering with relief some quiet place   Where never fell his foot or shone his face   I say, "There is no memory of him here!"   And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Jesse Blackthorn :: “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost

Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Thomas Lightwood :: “This Was Once a Love Poem” by Jane Hirshfield

This was once a love poem, before its haunches thickened, its breath grew short, before it found itself sitting, perplexed and a little embarrassed, on the fender of a parked car, while many people passed by without turning their heads.

It remembers itself dressing as if for a great engagement. It remembers choosing these shoes, this scarf or tie.

Once, it drank beer for breakfast, drifted its feet in a river side by side with the feet of another.

Once it pretended shyness, then grew truly shy, dropping its head so the hair would fall forward, so the eyes would not be seen.

It spoke with passion of history, of art. It was lovely then, this poem. Under its chin, no fold of skin softened. Behind the knees, no pad of yellow fat. What it knew in the morning it still believed at nightfall. An unconjured confidence lifted its eyebrows, its cheeks.

The longing has not diminished. Still it understands. It is time to consider a cat, the cultivation of African violets or flowering cactus.

Yes, it decides: Many miniature cacti, in blue and red painted pots. When it finds itself disquieted by the pure and unfamiliar silence of its new life, it will touch them—one, then another— with a single finger outstretched like a tiny flame.

Lucie Herondale :: “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers” by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

[staerplatinum]

DBZ, rewritten

while i was brainstorming about my own main au, "From Eden", i was also thinking about a rewritten version of db, another AU i'd like to write someday but for now i just summarized it. you can read it under the divisor!

premise: there aren't ocs or too many headcanons of mine, just some ideas i thought they would've been cool to see instead of the plot we have now. i removed some things but i also inserted some new things i thought they would've been interesting. i didn't add moro or granola's sagas for some reasons i'll explain better later. hope you like it!

Until Frieza Saga, DB-DBZ stays as it is. But, from Chapter 330 of the manga things start changing. Mecha Frieza doesn’t exist, Future Trunks only comes (with a mask on his face) to warn Goku about the heart virus, then goes back to the future.

Although the warning, Goku carelessly dies anyway. Piccolo still trains Gohan and lives with him, the Ox King and ChiChi, who’s pregnant. After the Androids defeat, Piccolo trains Gohan at the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, making him transform into Super Saiyan for the first time. Thus, as in canon, Gohan transforms into Super Saiyan 2 and defeats Cell.

For the 25th World Tournament (and so Majin Buu saga) Goku comes back to Earth for 24 hours and meets Goten for the first time. Goku tries to fight against Majin Buu, but he doesn’t stand a chance against him and is defeated. Goku and Piccolo train Goten and Trunks to make them fuse into Gotenks who, with Vegito’s help, tries to defeat Super Buu, but they get absorbed in the process. All of this happens while Gohan is trained by Shin and Old Kai, who awakens his potential and thus gains a part of Godly Ki. Shin and Kibito use their Potara earring to fuse into Kibitoshin, and helps Gohan to defeat Kid Buu. All the lives get resurrected, Gohan chooses to train with Shin on the Sacred World of Kai, becoming a Supreme Kai apprentice next to Kibito. Yet, still lives on Earth and marries Videl.

At Age 778, Bulma organizes her birthday party. At the same time, Beerus wakes up after his 39 years of slumber to look for the Super Saiyan God. After knowing there is a Saiyan with a glimpse of Godly Ki, he travels to the Sacred World of Kai, looking for Gohan. He isn’t there, so Kibitoshin tells him he shouldn’t disturb his apprentice while he’s on Earth—but Beerus goes there anyway. Vegeta tries to stop him, but he, along with Android 18, Piccolo and Gotenks, is defeated. Beerus only wants to fight Gohan, thus he chooses to try to fight him only with his Unlocked Potential. At a certain point of their fight, Gohan is able to transform into Super Saiyan God, leaving Kibitoshin speechless. After their fight ends in a tie, the birthday party continues and Gohan acknowledges he will be a father.

For formal reasons, Kibitoshin decides to unfuse and Shin continues to work as Supreme Kai, still having Gohan as his student. Since ChiChi has a lot of potential because of her demon origins, Shin chooses to train her, as well as Whis decides to help Gohan with his training too. During Gohan’s training, Vados and Champa pay Beerus a visit. Vados finds out Universe 6’s Earthlings are extinct, thus Champa wants Universe 7’s Earth for himself. They decide to do a Tournament between Universe 6 and Universe 7, where Gohan meets Hit and Cabba for the first time. Gohan doesn’t need to transform into Super Saiyan God, until he fights against Hit and reaches Super Saiyan Blue, leaving Beerus and Shin surprised. Universe 7 wins and, like in canon, Beerus wishes for Universe 6’s Earthlings to be alive. In the same period, Gohan knows Zen’Oh due to one of the gods’ reunions.

At Age 780, Gohan realizes his daughter is starting to mysteriously develop some Ki alone and when he asks Shin to check her, he says she has definitely taken it from him. Gowasu and Zamasu pay Shin a visit and Gohan sees Kibito training with Zamasu for the first time. Zamasu, though, notices Gohan and thinks he’s even more powerful than Kibito--when he sees ChiChi being trained by Shin as well, he starts despising mortals even more and tries to attack ChiChi in front of Gowasu. When Gohan surprisingly blocks him, they start a battle that ends in a tie because both Gowasu and Shin forcibly stop them. When they return to Universe 10, like in canon, Gowasu makes Zamasu see the Babarian population from afar, but Zamasu kills one of them and his master tells him not to do it anymore as they return back home. A new Time Ring is created and when Shin notices it, Gohan starts wondering if it’s because of Zamasu like he previously thought when ChiChi was attacked. Gowasu returns to Universe 7, telling Shin that Zamasu disappeared. In fact, Whis finds out Zamasu has collected all the Super Dragon Balls to wish his body to be immortal. Piccolo and Dende confirm Zamasu is coming back and plans to destroy all humans. Gohan prepares for the fight, as well as Gotenks, while Bulma, Whis and Beerus watch them. During the fight, Gotenks is seriously wounded and Gohan’s Super Saiyan God transformation fades, while Zamasu’s body starts corrupting due to an overcharge of energy. Shin teleports both Gowasu and ChiChi with him, she surprisingly attacks him with the Z-Sword--that only Gohan was able to wield. Zamasu is finally wounded, but with Bulma’s plan, Beerus is able to kill him with his Hakai.

In the meantime, Dende tells Goku about Uub. So Goku teleports to the Sacred World of Kai to tell Shin about him. When Shin acknowledges Uub is actually Kid Buu’s reincarnation, he first thinks he could be a menace--but probably isn’t since he’s good. Gohan brings him to Mr. Satan’s house and meets Majin Buu, who apparently can take the form of the Grand Supreme Kai. Both Shin and the Grand Supreme Kai travel to find Uub, who’s currently training with King Chappa. Shin offers to fight Uub, and surprisingly finds out the child has a great potential. The Grand Supreme Kai is aware of the fact Uub is holding part of his power and suggests him to train with the two deities.

Twelve years later, Pan is thirteen years old and follows the same training as Gohan, who’s now the new Supreme (Demi)Kai. Shin, having now the rank of Grand Supreme Kai, is watching them through the training and Beerus wonders if Pan will ever be as strong as her father, Shin thinks the same about Bra, since she’s trained by Beerus and Whis. Bulma kept the Dragon Balls for another birthday party, but when she and the rest of the group summon Shenlong, a black dragon appears to explain the Dragon Balls have been overused, so they now have a negative energy within them. The Dragon Balls separate into several deities, thus Beerus suggests to send Pan, Bra and Uub to defeat the Shadow Dragons and recover the Dragon Balls in their normal state. Bra is the one who drives the ship, so she decides where to go first. The dragons are all pretty much the same as in canon, but the trio will fight against the last three evil dragons, Uub fights against San Shenlong, Bra against Shu Shenlong, while Pan fights against Omega Shenlong, unlocking her potential as her father did. Once they defeat the dragons, the Dragon Balls return back to normal. Shenlong asks Pan if she wants to train with him, but she refuses and says she soon wants to become Supreme Kai as Gohan did.