#which was slightly focused on her rather than her death

[gayhoediaz]

brilliant tags from @extasiswings ✨

#it's SUCH a choice #and I think Eddie's conflict was at least in part that...he doesn't think he can have buck in all the ways he wants him? #| think a big part of him is still sitting at the table in that restaurant #when Shannon said 'it's not you it's me' but what he heard was 'you're not enough' #so in a sense he and Buck are caught in this purgatory where it would be so easy to cross the line to explicitly romantic #and Eddie wants that #but he won't risk it #so...he's alone and he's not alone because he has ALMOST everything and he's been telling himself it's enough and he doesn't need more #only Pepa had to go and make him confront the looming possibility of 'more' #buddie #911 spoilers #*fleabag voice* this is a love story

the fact that eddie didn’t mention buck when pepa said he was alone is so loud as well. i don’t know, man, if i had a friend i was that close with and who practically co parented my child and i only had platonic love in my heart for them, my knee-jerk reaction would be to say something like “i’m not alone, and chris isn’t alone - i have great friends, buck is around all the time, he’s amazing. maybe i’d like a partner someday but this is enough right now.” because there is nothing weird about that imo.

but eddie can’t say that - they haven’t talked about each other much at all - ever, really. the only time we have ever heard them call each other ‘best friend’ was after the tsunami when buck was on the phone with maddie.

and i am just simply in love with how loud this show manages to be - without really saying anything at all. not only when it comes to buck and eddie - but all of it. this show is always, constantly leading us to the water but they’re never gonna point to it and tell us to drink.

and i think that’s beautiful.

[mackk122]

Tittle : First time (part 1).

Part.2

Pairing~Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader

WC: 5k.

Warnings~ none :)

Summary~ Younger Sister to the twin Emperors.As you are forced to sit and watch the games, a certain gladiator catches your attention.

Notes: This is just a build up to the next part. Raw, next question…

.·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·.

As I sat there awaiting my brother’s speech to announce the general, my mind wandered off searching in the crowd.

‘How could so many people sit here and enjoy these brutal games?’ I thought, I could hear the commotion but cared less of what was being spoken.

Still lost in my thoughts I jumped at a hand being placed on my shoulder- it was Lucilla.

“And where does the mind of the young princess of Rome, wander off to?” She spoke softly smelling the little bundle of flowers in her hand.

“Ah, just thinking about the games” I gave a fake smile. I had to be cautious about what I said or did, for my twin brothers didn’t take criticism lightly.

She smiled and gave a soft nod, understanding where I was coming from. All of the sudden the sound of horns and the crowd’s cheers erupted, drawing me out of my mind. The gladiators all came out, these men which have not felt peace since before their homes were taken.

I noticed very quickly a young man in the center of them, from what I could see he was a natural born leader, and very handsome. He commanded the gladiators as if it were his own personal army, when he moved they moved at his discretion. As the game went on I could barely stomach the man getting throw into the pillar. I turned away only for Caracalla to speak.

“Sister you must watch, isn’t it magnificent?” He grinned devilishly. I didn’t respond, for fear I would vomit because of the gore.

“YOUR EMPEROR IS SPEAKING TO YOU!” He shouted staring at me as if I was the crazy one.

“Brother! Our sister doesn’t mean to offend, remember it is but her first time sitting here to watch” Geta replied calming our brother down. As Caracalla turned back around amused at the center of the arena, Geta gave me a warning look.

As all of this was happening the rhino then slammed into the wall, and the two gladiators began to fight. My stomach began to turn, I prayed the man I saw earlier would not be slain.

As he fell to the ground and the bigger man stood above him asking the crowd for mercy or death, my heart sank.

The crowd began to cheer ‘Mercy’, and my brother stood to his feet, he turned to Lucilla who looked as if she was terrified for this man’s life.

“Shall I spare him?” Geta asked.

“Yes!” I shouted before Lucilla could answer her face slightly confused.

“Spare him” she spoke strongly to the Emperor.

With his body now facing the crowd and arm stretched out, he began to speak the words muffled in my head only focusing to the stranger on the ground, the crowd cheered and I looked up to see he had granted him mercy, I took a breath of relief.

“No mercy! I would rather die by the sword than receive mercy from the Roman’s!” Lucius shouted as he was on his hands and knees.

My eyes widened and I turned to Lucilla, she equally fearful for this young man. And they began to fight again, this time Lucius took victory. The crowd erupted into applause at the sight of this gladiator. He looked up into where we were sitting, and our eyes locked for a moment before he walked out of the arena.

─────── ·𖥸· ───────

“Lucilla” I said softly, catching up to her and the general. She turned to me with a soft smile but I knew something was wrong.

I pulled her into a hug, “That man, who is he?” I whispered in her ear. The manner of tone she used for him to be spared, was almost as if she’d known him.

“I’m afraid I know not what you speak” she spoke back pulling away. “Princess” she nodded and they continued to walk.

‘There is something she knows’ I thought to myself. I began to walk back to my brothers only for them to have left me at the colosseum.

“Fantastic” I breathed out.

“Ah, Princess” Macrinus spoke.

“Oh!” I turned stunned, not expecting him to be there. “Your gladiator is really something, what was his name?” I smiled.

Macrinus gave a sly look before responding, “He goes by Hanno…” he looked at me head turned slightly, “huh… princess” he said before leaving.

‘Hanno..’ I thought and a small smile appeared on my lips. ‘I will meet this man’ I thought to myself determined to speak to him.

.·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺𓆟༻¨*:·.

As Lucius sat at the table getting stitched up, his mind kept wandering to the woman, behind the Emperors.

“What is on your mind gladiator?” Ravi asked him.

“That woman… not the generals wife- the other one, she is the princess… correct?” He asked staring at him.

“Yes… and why do you care?” Ravi smiled his brow raised. Lucius gave a look before it turned into a smile. Macrinus appeared

From around the corner congratulating him.

“Keep doing well and you’ll get what you want” he spoke.Lucius stopped him before he walked away.

“I want to meet the princess as well” he said stern. Macrinus chuckled and continued to walk.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Marriage was often used as a tool of convenience - be it to upgrade one's own social status, get some much needed silver and gold, or to just get one leg up over your enemies, it really did not matter in the end.

Like it or not, you were tied to that person till death did you part.

That was a chant that has been sung to you ever since you came out of your weeping mother's womb. As the daughter of the household, it was natural for you to wed one day. However, the family was one of average standing, it had no special titles tacked onto it nor did it have any grotesque reputation which could sully it to the darkness and back. In its own way, it was oddly blissful, being invisible like that. No one expected you to act like a stuck up lady who would be locked away deep in a tower and you were also safe from becoming a measley wench who would be forced to spend the rest of her miserable days stuck rolling around in the mud, selling her body to all sorts of horrific strangers just in order to eat for a day.

You had the privilege of being born into a happy life. Perhaps a slightly dull one sometimes but regardless, a good one at that. You were content with everything which was given to you, perhaps even happy.

However, all things come to an end, and your end came in the form of a man riding on horseback.

He was strong, capable, handsome... But you kept that thought to yourself as you helped the wounded stranger get back on his feet, his midnight black steed happily trotting away somewhere as it accidentally shook the rider off its back once it locked eyes on you, a stranger in the woods.

"And who might you be?" asked the dark haired man, his curly hair framing his pale face so wonderfully that it took the breath from your lungs away.

You held onto him tightly and pressed him close to your body, the odor of blood and sweat covering him from top to bottom but you couldn't be bothered to care. He wore simple clothing which made you think that he was in a similar position like yourself in terms of finance, which gave you a slight glimmer of hope.

It was embarrassing how much you were swooning over the stranger.

Taking him back to your hut took longer than expected but all was well in the end. The handsome stranger had a name, Robb he said it was, and you couldn't hide the adoration in your voice whenever he would speak to you. The night flew by like a summer breeze - too fast and too sweet. Come first daylight he had to leave, which you understood.

That didn't stop you from feeling a little blue.

He mounted his horse like a knight in shining armor, its mane tussling proudly in the bitter north wind as Robb looked down at you, his warm blue eyes desperate to tell you many stories and secrets, but time was cruel and scarce.

He would come back to you, he promised.

And you gave him a smile sweeter than any juicy fruit, telling him that you would gladly wait for him.

He rode away all the while looking back at you, sending you a heart stopping smile which could make anyone weak in the knees. The horse left large hoofprints in the snow and you focused your attention on that, rather than the bitter stabs of pain in your heart.

There would never be a day when you'd see Robb ever again.

You were due to leave for the South in a few weeks time, in order to finally be wed off. The fantasy of Robb was saccharine and enchanting, many hours of sleep were lost due to him. Even if you barely knew him, the matters of the heart were reckless and stupid.

The heart wants what it wants and your heart ached for Robb.

All the while, you hadn't a clue of him and his plans. The men in Winterfell grew tired of his constant ramblings of this lovely woman he met, this sweet little thing which made his heart sing like no one else. He would walk in the corridors with a pep in his step as he thought of all the ways he could take you back to his home and give you the life you deserved.

His candied tirade quickly came to an abrupt halt once his mother had informed him of the grave news, that you had been promised to another man.

Robb was furious.

Who was this man?! Who did he think he is?! Ever the meticulous man, he got to work immediately. In less than a few days he had managed to gather all the information he could on this mystery fiance of yours, all the papers sprawled across his massive table. The candles in his chambers glimmered gently, the shimmering light a stark contrast to the raging flames in his heart.

If he could have his way, he'd be out for blood. Robb was too much of a jealous man for his own good but he needed to think, he needed to prepare if he wanted to do this right.

In less than a day, he had everything set up. If the man wasn't willing to take the gold he was offering him, he was not above using any scare tactics. His anger ended up getting the better of him though, so a bizarre combination of both was used.

The way in which your fiance left you made your heart sink. How were you going to break the news to your parents? Whatever could you have done so wrong to earn the ire of this lord whom you haven't even met yet...

You weep in your room, staining the mattress with your salty tears, completely oblivious to the small cavalry with House Stark banners raging on your front door.

Robb Stark had come for his bride. And she had no idea what sort of future awaited her...

[apheliia]

BLEED. — in which the Knave attends to her wounded little sibling.

— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injuries & blood, descriptions of violence, implied murder. 1.4k words.

— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. arlecchino & younger sibling!reader. reader is a member of the fatui. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). arlecchino is referred to using her real name.

— author's notes. arle <3

       "Oh, you— you came."

       Their surprise was evident, written all over their features as they stared up at the Harbinger. The eerie, echoing click of her heels cut through the silence that, upon her entry, had befallen the Fatui's medics. The microexpressions on her face—brows furrowed inwards, gaze focused on nothing else but them, and lips pointed vaguely downwards—promised a fate far worse than death for anyone who dared to interrupt her.

       Arlecchino was a calm, even-tempered woman...

       ...That is, she was a calm and even-tempered woman when her beloved little sibling was both safe and well. However, the blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around the lower half of their torso made it clear that they were not well. Safe, yes, but well? That, they most certainly were not.

       Her tall stance cast a shadow over their body. Perhaps if they were anyone else, they would currently be fearing for their life... but as they gazed up at her with a meek smile, it occured to them that they were definitely concerned (though undoubtedly in a far more lighthearted way than any other person would be).

       "You look so scary like this," they giggled timidly, snapping their gaze away and looking anywhere but at her. Subconsciously, their fingers fidgeted with the blanket draped over their legs. "Don't be mad... I messed up a bit. You know. Things— things happen..."

       Arlecchino sighed, cutting them off: "Are you wounded anywhere else, [Name]?"

       "No. Just there."

       "I see," she muttered thoughtfully, rolling up her sleeves. The inky darkness of her curse pulsed and spread, crawling further up her arms than it usually did—they couldn't help but frown slightly. Nonetheless, they said nothing of it. She would surely brush them off and tell them to worry more about themselves if they did.

       Arlecchino turned to the nervous agents in the room; the second they did, everyone immediately tried to appear busy, whipping their bodies away from the direction of the Knave and her baby sibling with such speed that it surely gave a few of them whiplash. "You all are dismissed."

       'Get out. Now.'

       With polite acknowledgments to her unspoken command, heads bowing to the Fourth, the Fatui's medics were quick to leave, urgency evident in their speedy steps. Anything they had been working on was long forgotten and left behind; certainly, the soldiers were unconcerned with their work. If anything, the only thing they were concerned with was getting away from Arlecchino. It wasn't very difficult to understand why.

       No agent wanted to so much as imagine what might happen if they were to somehow invoke her fury, especially now of all times.

       Once the final agent had left, and the heavy double doors shut—shockingly without any echo; perhaps the medics were afraid that even closing the door forcibly enough would agitate the Harbinger—their eyes shifted upwards.

       "Peruere..." they murmured softly, straightening their spine somewhat and removing the blanket from their legs so that they could gingerly swing them over the side of the bed. They wished not to agitate their wound further—it still throbbed and ached, so they knew that one incorrect move would render them doubled over in pain. Their elder sister took notice of their enhanced caution.

       "Did they give you any medication yet?" Arlecchino—Peruere, rather, inquired. She turned away from them briefly, speedily shuffling through the medical supplies on a nearby table. Scissors, gauze, antibacterial ointment...

       "They tried, but nothing worked... well enough, that is. My fever has gone down since I arrived and it hurts slightly less, but it just hurts far too much for any of their weaker painkillers to be effective. This base isn't well-equipped to handle wounds like this."

       Even breathing was a chore, really; each time their chest rose and fell, painful sparks clawed through their skin, originating at the gash in their side.

       "Hm." Her face twisted and soured somewhat. "...I suppose I have no choice but to speak to the Doctor once we return to the Motherland, then."

       Peruere then began thoroughly scrubbing her hands with special attention to the underside of her nails in one of the medical sinks, as to ensure that she did not cause any kind of infection to fester in their wound.

       Their breath hitched, and they immediately went on to frantically ask, "Aren't you busy? You don't have to come with me. I can return by myself, it really isn't a big deal... even if that means talking to him—"

       "No." Her eyes shifted to their direction (and for a moment, she couldn't help but think that they looked a little bit like a kicked puppy—dejected and pouty, as if they had somehow upset her). The Knave's tone softened slightly. "No. I do not trust the Doctor around you, nor do I trust these agents to ensure your safety. You are injured. I am the only one who can ensure no harm will befall you."

       "I can defend myself," they asserted. "I'm your sibling, you know."

       "I have no doubt that you can," she softly assured, drying her hands with a clean towel. "However, at the moment, you are in no condition to fight."

       With that, she collected the necessary items and walked back towards their bed. Setting all but the scissors aside, she kneeled down, and began cutting away at the gauze.

       "Did they clean your wound?"

       "Yes."

       She hummed in ackowledgement.

       Peruere's gaze softened somewhat at the sight of their wound—still wet with blood, the perimeter of the wound lined in matte crimson. She observed the way their stomach heaved with each breath.

       Scorching flames burned in her veins. Had she not known any better, she would resolve to deliver a fate far worse than death to whoever did this, to personally escort them straight to the lowest circle of hell and splatter their guts across the floor.

       (She awaited and anticipated the day that the Doctor somehow, in some way, brought harm to her sibling. Should that day ever arrive, she would finally have a reason, an excuse, to reunite him and the previous Knave.

       Peruere was patient. She could wait.)

       ...She did know better, however, and her sibling was just about as much of a force as she was.

       Whoever did this was certainly already well-acquainted with the devil.

       After squeezing some of the antibacterial ointment onto her fingertips, she gingerly spread it across the area of their wound.

       They grimaced somewhat, body instinctively snapping away from her hands. Peruere's freehand shot out to grab their hip with enough pressure to keep them in place but not enough to hurt them any further.

       "Shh. Be still."

       "But it stings," they whined, shooting her an accusatory glance; there was a glimmer of mischief in their glazed eyes, however, and she immediately understood that whatever they were going to accuse her of was unserious in its nature. "You're making it hurt on purpose."

       At that, the Harbinger rolled her eyes. It was clear that there was no true agitation behind the gesture.

       "No, it doesn't, and no, I assure you that I am not," she replied calmly, continuing to spread the ointment to ensure that every part of the injury was adequately lathered. "I put nothing on it that would make it hurt. Don't be dramatic."

       "Ahh... you're so mean, Per..." they sighed dramatically. "So terribly mean to your beloved, wounded baby sibling~"

       She chose not to feed into their mischief. Instead, she began winding the gauze around their body. Once she felt that it was properly wrapped—covered with enough layers to keep dirt and debris out of their flesh and blood—she pulled. "Is this too tight?"

       A soft hum rose from their throat as they inhaled as to ensure that it really wasn't too tight, even when they breathed deeply. "No. The pressure helps with the pain, actually."

       The Harbinger nodded, securing the end of the gauze. She then rose—though not fully, and rather bent at the waist somewhat to meet them at eye-level. The hand that was void of any residue from the cream softly carressed their face.

       Her pupils bore into theirs, thumb rubbing back and forth across their cheekbone. She was mindful as to avoid scratching them with her nail. Though she often told others not to gaze into her eyes for too long—'What you see may not be very pleasant,' she would say—they seemed to be an exception.

       In her eyes, as most do, they saw destruction, death, and madness. In them, it did not induce fear. It made them feel safe.

       And perhaps that made them no less mad then their elder sister was.

       That fate, however, was one that they were content with.

       The Knave withdrew, though not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of their head.

       "Rest now. We will depart for Snezhnaya when you awaken again."

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[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hello!! Love your writing. Not sure if you are doing requests, but ANYTHING Logan Howlett x Plus Size reader would be awesome 💗🤩

fem!plus size reader, wc: 582.

a/n: THIS IS SICKENINGLY SWEET OH MY GOODNESS. maybe this may seem out of character to some people, but in my opinion, I think logan is a big ol' softie.

cw! mentions of knarly injuries and stitches + mentions of a needle.

Okay yes, Logan might be brooding, and emo and mysterious but God forbid that you actually get hurt, because this man would lose his shit (in less than dignified words).

Let’s say metaphorically you go out on a mission and when you come back, you’re a little worse for wear. You already know by the time you make it to the clinical room Logan would have raised hell on his path there. 

You have a few seconds of silence as you sit down on the medical table before you cringe at the sound of Logan’s voice booming down the hall. Jean gives you a look and all you can do is sigh exasperatedly.

You love him, you really do, but your head hurts and so does your side, which has been gracefully exposed to the open air, a less than preferable gash ripped through your skin. You’re trying really hard not to look at it - or even think about it - rather focusing on the Wolverine who’s now glaring at you.

“The hell happened?” 

“Wow Logan, I can really feel the love.” 

He gives you a look that makes the next bite of sarcasm die in the back of your throat. Instead, you replace it with another fruitless sigh.

“Big nasty metal thing,” You say with a wave of your hand, “‘Was just throwing shit at people and I got hit with a nice piece of shrapnel, but I’m good.”

“Good? You call being cut up like that good?”

“I really don't want to fight right now, Wolvie.” You pinch the space between your eyes. He softens ever so slightly at the intimate nickname and it doesn't take a mutation to know that the extra presence of your peers wasn't needed.

“Just let me stitch you up and I'll leave you guys to talk.” Jean says, already tweeding the thread through the needle. You wince, sparing a glance at the redhead before reaching Logan's eyes once more.

“This is going to fucking suck.” You grimace. 

Taking the hint, Logan walks and hops onto the bed as gently as he can so as to not jostle you. He doesn't speak when he takes your hand in his, squeezing it ever so slightly in a show of alliance. 

When Jean gets started you force yourself not to look, turning your head to bury it in Logan’s burly shoulder, breathing in his cigar scent stained flannel. It’s comforting to say the least, and it’s the only thing keeping you from passing out. The worst part was the numbing needle really.

“Alright, I’m done.” She says, slipping the medical gloves off and throwing them away. 

When you make eye contact with her, she gives you a knowing look. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The room is silent for a moment before he speaks. “What were you thinking?” It’s a petulant grumble, and you smile fondly. “It wasn’t like I actively tried to get myself hurt, you know.” 

He sighs, and pulls away from you so he can cradle your cheek. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, you know that?” 

You laugh out loud, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his. “I guess you’re just going to have to keep up with me then, old man.” You tease. He smirks, “Old man? Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod with a grin. Logan places a sweet, long peck onto your lips.

“Maybe I’ll just handcuff you to the bed.”

You snort, “I’d like to see you try.”

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

This is Her Trying

sum: she sold out every value she holds dear, even a person. That happens to be you. So, one night after Voit’s little game, she speeds to your apartment in hopes you’ll still want her.

(is there a lot of music references? Yes.)

WARNING: BIG ANGSTY, smoking, some fluff?

Emily saw this coming, with the way everything was happening. The BAU hadn’t taken up a case they couldn’t solve, it just seems that now they’ve met their match. Emily didn’t want it to be true, no, she just couldn’t accept that. She was too prideful to give up.

That also meant doing everything in her power to solve this case, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of the law. She hated that she even considered doing it, so why do it at all? That was a question she asked herself often. Sometimes she sat in her chair wondering if Hotch would be disappointed in her. Or if he would tell her that she ‘needn’t worry’ even though she should.

In the midst of all this ‘Gold Star’ business happening, she was also pushing you away. Not noticing the hurt facial expression you made at her clearly not wanting your presence. She pushed you away so much that she had forgotten how much peace you’d bring her. Even Rossi had warned her to go home but she never did listen, she did what she thought was best. But sometimes she couldn’t think for herself.

—

“Shouldn’t you head home to see the Mrs?” Rossi asked, driving them back after Emily had gotten arrested. The truth was, she wanted to go home, she was just too scared that you too would be disappointed in her, and she’d rather not have the person she loved the most think ill of her. “She knows I’m out, it’s fine..” The silver-haired woman grumbled, picking at her thumb nail again. Someday she’d get over the whole thumb thing but now was not the time. All that she was focused on was Brian Garrity being on the top of her list to be killed off if she ever did spiral into madness; which she was already on the brink of.

Dave looked at her with this face, it was his ‘I know you better than you think, please don’t lie to me right now’ face. Emily huffed, groaning as she flopped her head into her hands. “It’s been almost a week and a half, Emily. A hello or hug would suffice” He tutted, even after all these years he still had to teach her fatherly advice.

“She’ll survive, Dave, she’s not going anywhere” Emily seethed, her emotions slightly breaking loose, the Italian took note of her behavior. As he pulled back into the parking lot, he stopped the engine, turning to look at her with a soft expression.

“If I’ve learned anything from my marriages is, never make them wait for you. Because the hardest feeling is choosing whether to wait or give up” He says, exiting the car first to let Emily think.

—

The Unit Chief sat on the rooftop again, the cigarette she was smoking, balanced between her fingers. She only smoked when she was really stressed, that seemed to be almost every day now. You had told her to stop smoking but, old habits die hard.

Ever since that call she had about being on restricted duty she felt like she was completely under the water, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling on being dragged down over and over again was starting to get to her. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo but it was starting to feel like her last. She kept telling herself to keep pushing and they’d solve this but maybe, for once, they’ve gotten a case they won’t figure out.

The BAU was crumbling around them, the public was already trampling on the name. But if they didn’t figure this out, what was the point of anything? What was the point of all this work if she couldn’t even save herself?

How could she protect her team when her choices were the ones hurting them? She’d been dying inside since Bailey’s death. She couldn’t give up now, she had to figure this out so he didn’t die in vain. But she wanted to give up, it was so much easier to lay down and die.

This isn’t how she imagined she’d end up. A broken marriage, at least she thought so, a broken team, a broken case, everything was tumbling down and she didn’t have the energy to build them back up anymore. She always wondered how some people could die with so much happiness accepting that they didn’t do everything they wanted to. That was one of the qualities that made you fall for her.

She didn’t stop till she got what she wanted. That’s how you agreed to go on one date with her. She was insistent that she was the one for you. At first you didn’t want to, not wanting to be with someone so ambitious since it could end badly, later she showed you that you were the only one she wanted.

Letting out a shaking breath, Emily looked below, the who-ing of the owls seemed to be her only company that night. The stars were shining above her, she was jealous of them. How could they live so peacefully without worry. They were taunting her with their beauty.

Almost like the first time you and her met. She smiled at the memory, her time of youth escaped her but she never seemed to forget it.

~~

You were one of Garcia‘s friends, she met you during one of her baking lessons, and got to know you during one of her cooking lessons. You were skilled in both, your nimble fingers kneading the dough, your hands holding the sharp knife as you made precise cuts on the vegetables.

Emily could’ve never been prepared for the day you’d given Penelope a visit at work. She practically choked on her coffee the moment you walked in. You were stunning, your eyes soft like the morning rain, your face free from blemishes and impurities, even your hands looked extremely agile. Your presence alone cast an ethereal radiance around the room. “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

Your brow arched, signaling her to introduce herself, Emily quickly stumbled to her feet with a goofy smile. She was enchanted by your shining grin. Internally, she was panicking so bad she couldn’t even think about what comes out of her mouth next, she was too busy staring at your tits.

“Prentits, Emily” she said a little too confidently, she slapped a hand over her mouth as Morgan barrel rolled on the floor in laughter. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope were snickering in the background. Hotch and Reid stood with shocked expressions, for once, Aaron had cracked a smile.

”I’m sorry! I meant Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you as well” her voice got more silent with each word, the red hue over taking her face. You laughed, “it’s okay, Emily,” you leaned into her ear, “but next time just ask to look at them.”

~~

Emily snorted to herself, still looking into the dark nothingness below her. A soft chuckle escaped her, even the darkness seemed more peaceful than whatever she had going on. In those few minutes that she had stared into the oblivion, she realized, it wasn’t too late to fix things. At least with you anyway, she just hoped that you’d still want her after everything she had put you through.

The guilt of leaving you alone for so long clawed at her. As she now hurried down the halls, she thought of you. That smile that could make her melt, the laugh that could infect anybody, and those arms that held her close when no one understood her.

Even in the car, the first thing that played was your favorite song. She slammed her fist against the console, the pain was agonizing but that was the least of her problems. Her fingers gripped around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white and cramped. As she speeded home, she realized that she dearly missed your lips. Your soft, delicate, and loving lips. Even the first time the both of you had said you loved each other, she knew that you were gonna kiss her in a way that was gonna screw her up forever.

At the door of your shared house, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, her hands turned clammy. It was like she was sent back to when she was ask you out on a date again. Except this time she was asking for your forgiveness.

She brought out her house keys, unlocked the door, and stepped in. The inside was still dimly lit so she knew you were awake, probably staying up late again. “Baby? I’m home!” Emily called out, shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it before venturing deeper into the home. She heard shuffling from upstairs, it stopped for a moment before the sound of your footsteps made their way down. She was nervous, the smell of smoke on her clothes. It stood out from the scent of the rest of the house.

It smelt of you and your soft smelling vanilla perfume. You smiled seeing her, though the emotions in you remained conflicted. “Em, you’re home, I thought you were gonna be working late again” You chuckled lightly, nothing was funny. She messed up and you knew it, she knew it. So, why couldn’t you just go ahead and scream your feelings out. That’s what you wanted to do days ago, but not now that you see her face…you don’t feel so angry anymore.

“No, I needed to come home. I needed to see you, I’m-” Emily abruptly stopped her sentence to swallow the sound of her breaking voice, she never minded being emotional in front of you. Now, she couldn’t bear to cry in front of you. She felt she didn’t deserve to, you’re the victim here, after all. It was selfish to take that away from you. She was selfish. That’s all she had been for weeks now.

“I’m going insane, y/n. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I’m not alright.” She admitted it, she was scared and confused. She felt like some little kid in the corner after doing something bad and not knowing it was. She didn’t know how to cope with any of this. It was too big to do alone. She couldn’t ask you to help her, not when she’s already taken so much from you.

As Emily’s eyes began to sting, the tears pooling. Yet, she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, it wasn’t right. “You smell like smoke again, what happened this time?” You asked, brushing past her and walking into the kitchen. You fixed Emily a glass of cold water, “I messed up some case, I’m on restricted duty. The BAU is Dave’s now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She said through a shaky sigh, leaning on the kitchen island, the marble cold to the touch. You were slightly shocked that she would actually tell you, most of the time she wouldn’t tell you anything. You understood that even knowing a little bit could endanger you both so you never pressed. “Have you eaten?”

Emily crossed her arms, sniffling and looking at her with a blank expression. You knew that look, she was trying to profile you. “Emily, if you’re trying to profile me, it’s not gonna work.” You said sternly, getting the ingredients out for beef and broccoli, one of her favorites.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” she replied, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t” she added after a moment of silence. You smiled to yourself, “Good, I haven’t had dinner yet”

The silence was oddly comfortable, it gave Emily a sense of false comfort. She watched you cook as she idly played with her fingers. You could’ve called it a night ages ago and gone to bed not talking to her at all. Instead, you chose to stay and make food. You always stayed silent when you were mad, you came from a home with screaming being the norm. You hated yelling at someone out of anger, you hated it with your heart and soul. Even now if someone yells at you in anger, the tears will pool and won’t stop streaming down your face. Your breathing turns shallow and the tightness in your chest the least of your concerns.

As you finished cooking the food, the steam drifted into the air, eventually filling up the whole kitchen. Both of you quickly ate the food, silently glancing at each ofher when the other ‘wasn’t’ looking. Emily didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

The older woman went upstairs to change, and hopefully get a shower. It had been a few days since she’s had a good shower. One where she felt relaxed and fresh. You washed the dishes, humming to yourself as you thought about the situiation you were in. You wanted so badly to be angry with her but, there was something that kept you from feeling anything about what was happening. Your face would contort into an expression of anger but you didn’t feel it.

You completed the rest of the cleaning and headed upstairs, maybe you’d be able to get a good sleep tonight. You always slept best with Emily in bed with you, she just gave you a sense of comfort that no one else could give you.

Already in some pjs, you brushed your teeth and washed your face. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your body up to sit on the counter. You had grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media as you flossed with a floss pick. You heard the shower stop but you didn’t look up, too interested in a News article you read. It was an article about ‘Gold Star’. A case Emily was on, he was clearly dangerous and had already killed the spouse of one of his latest victims who was also a cop. That must’ve been why she’s been down at the office, at least, that’s what you heard from Pen.

“Damn it…” Emily muttered, pulling a silk robe over her thin pjs. Her hair was soaking wet, and her face free of makeup, she was looking for something. “Have you seen my towel?” She asked, looking at the rack then back inside the shower. You looked down and saw you were sitting on it, lifting a thigh, you grabbed it and handed it to her.

She smiled at you, drying her silver locks with the towel. Walking over to the sink, she began doing her skincare routine. You stared at her, a blank expression on your face, she looked so focused.

You felt the urge to reach out and touch her face when she finished, she looked like a supermodel in this light. I’m any light actually, she was a timeless beauty you couldn’t get enough of. That was when you felt it, the subtle shake of your hands, the sting of your eyes, the flips of your stomach, the drowning feeling, and the way you bit the inside of your cheek.

Emily looked at herself in the mirror before looking over at you with concern, your eyes filled with hurt. She hummed softly, placing a hand on yours, squeezing it as a way to ground you. “I love you, Emily Prentiss…so much that you piss me off,” You said with a hushed tone, as if you’d be scolded for speaking normally.

“I love you more, my precious girl” Emily kissed each of your knuckles, kissing up your arm as she moved to slip herself in between your legs. She eventually got up to kiss your lips, it was quick, a big dose of comfort, for Emily at least.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true…” You insisted, placing your hands on her shoulders, the robe damp from her wet hair. “You left me, for almost a whole week and a half with minimal to no contact, you didn’t even check in with me so I knew you were alive and breathing.”

Emily looked down in shame, she wished to take it all back. “I had to hold on to the hope that you were okay, and I had to get updates from the team, who you never seem to interact with anyway.” You sniffled, toying with her hair. “I know about this whole ‘Gold Star’ thing. The information went public, most of it anyway. So, please tell me what’s bothering you. Please…” You admitted, holding her face so she would look at you.

“Baby, Gold Star…he’s a dangerous man, after what happened with Don Bertoli” she paused, wiping her tears away, refusing to let them fall. She’s been doing that often now, you noticed since she was always comfortable crying around you. “I couldn’t handle you living in fear, I couldn’t handle us living in fear. A part of it was because I was so focused on this case, I hardly thought about anything else other than the case, and you. I know that sounds weird but, every decision I made was made because I thought I could protect you.” She kissed your palm, looking at you with the same adoration and love she had been for years, “If Don, this big muscular man, can’t stop him from killing his wife. How can I stop him?” She sobbed, hugging you close.

“Ever since this case even started, I changed so much. I hate it. I let a serial killer out of his cage to work among profilers like he meant something. I kept a secret from JJ that I shouldn’t have, I ruled over my team like a tyrant instead of working with them. I’m…turning into my mother, just like I thought I would. But the only question I have is…why haven’t you left me yet?” Emily sniffled, tears stains on your sleep attire. You pulled away from the hug and held her head, wiping away the tears with your thumbs.

She looked so fragile, like could crack of you touched her. You rarely saw her break, Emily was always the strong one even in the relationship. She took pride in opening jars, carrying bags, doing any sort of lifting. She also compartmentalized like her life depended on it because it kind of did.

”You are not going to be like your mother, you are my wonderful, amazing, ambitious, smart, hilarious, stunning, annoying wife. You’re my everything in one and I love you for it. I haven’t left you because I made a very important promise to be yours forever. I intend to keep that promise, no matter what. Also, last time I checked, you have the most awesome team. So, if you fess up and take responsibility, they’ll accept you. Remember that you have to earn that trust back but, I know you care.” Emily let out a choked sob, she loved you more than anything. What did she do to deserve you?

“When you were gone that long, I didn’t mind that much. Until you stopped texting me back, I didn’t hear from you for days. I panicked, thinking you were mad and I spiraled, every possible out come in my head played out beside for this” You said, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

“What I mean is, I’m not going to tell you that this was okay, what I am gonna tell you is that I love you despite what happened.” You pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she was hurting, you could tell from her face and mannerisms. You felt like you had spent a whole lifetime memorizing everything about her. Sometimes, it scared you. You knew things about her that even her team didn’t know, for you knew they’d never know.

With that, Emily burst into tears, hugging you tightly, pulling you as close to her as she could.

You’ve missed her dearly, nothing in existence or nonexistent could keep you from loving her. You feel every emotion at once yet none could rival the pure love you felt for the woman. She’s gone through hell & earth to have you. Now, you were ready to do the same for her.

She’s saved you from a maniac serial killer once, the least you could do was be here when you needed her. You knew she’d return the favor, you preferred to have her be alright before returning anything. After all, you taught middle schoolers for a living, you had your moments but thankfully there was never anything much.

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry” She sobbed, her head buried in between the crevice between your neck and shoulder. Her body slotted so perfectly with yours that you were convinced she was made for you. “I forgive you, always”

You felt her arms tighten around you, she sniffled looking up into your eyes. Pressing a kiss to your lips, she played with your hair, twirling it between her fingers.

She didn’t know what was waiting for her in the future, she was unsure of a lot of things. One thing was certain, that you were hers, and she was yours. She’d find a way to cross realities if it meant being with you.

As the night went on, both felt as though they could stay their forever. Intertwined. Sewn together. Forevermore.

—————

UHM. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.

This is a nice appetizer for all the fics I’m about to serve to you guysssss. I hope you enjoyed restricted duty Emily :)

[see-arcane]

As a fan of the book Dracula and Dracula-adjacent media, I am very used to disappointment. I can still clap when the media is impressive while pretending the characters do not have the names they have. After enough trailers and interviews, I see Nosferatu 2024 is now sadly in that category, RIP to Thomas and Ellen Hutter, the un-Harkers set to get the Francis Ford Coppola treatment ala Robert Eggers. But if directors can play dolls and make the Mina/Ellen character do bloodstained kissy kissy with Dracula/Orlok, I can do this:

ACTUALLY SUBVERSIVE IDEAS I’D BE COOL WITH IN NOSFERATU (2024) FROM LEAST TO MOST COOL

Idea I’d Be Least Cool With, But Seems Eggers-shaped:

Ellen goes full Thomasin x Black Phillip, giving into the darkness~ ooh she loves her some Orlok, talk cadaverous to me babey~ And they make out bloody style and devour the puritanical human society because Eggers will pull a del Toro and make 99.99% of the human characters assholes not worth saving from the Horrors. Maybe Thomas and un-Van Helsing are left standing, maybe not. But it’s basically the Eggers MO of Monsters/Myths > Humans, however innocent or evil, extra dark ominous ending.

Idea I’d Be Somewhat Cooler With:

Ellen is 2 goth 4 U Thomas. But she’s also not oblivious to how Orlok is going to drink everyone. Which is bad. So she’ll 1) embrace her own dark inner lust and monstrosity~ while also 2) pulling a Bride of Frankenstein climax (We belong dead.) to see to it that she and Orlok are destroyed by sunrise. Not a ‘She was too pure for this sinful Earth!’ ending, but a ‘She was too gothique and eager to monsterfuck to hang around with you prudes. But fiiine she’ll destroy herself and her beloved Orlok to save you all or whatever. :/’ Which is slightly better than the scenario of un-Van Helsing and/or Thomas executing her and Orlok. So. Sure. Vampiric murder suicide, dying with her True Orlok Love (Orlove) uwu

Idea I’d Actually Be Pretty Cool With:

Eggers says he’s focusing on the sex/death drive and love story of Nosferatu (many asterisks here). If he has the guts for it, he’ll turn it on its expected heel and do the unthinkable—put a magnifying glass on Orlok getting very weird with Thomas. Who he drinks from first. And leaves imprisoned rather than outright killing him.

“But how do you explain him coming at Ellen’s invitation? What about the whole locket scene??”

Well, that’s where the bittersweet bit happens. Heavy on the bitter. Because if Eggers wants to really put his heel down on the horror part of vampirism and Dracula’s original MO, this would be the perfect point to do a bait and switch with Ellen herself. She wants Orlok? Wants him to ravish and drink her and make her one of his undead so they can be vampires together forever and ever?

“You want me. My touch, my gift. This I know. But the question remains,” cue that sharp little rat grin, “why would I ever want you?” Remember; the only one that explicitly craved what Dracula had to offer in the novel and in Nosferatu was the Renfield character. The one who saw the Count as a means to their end, who pined for him and what he could give. Bar the more sexual/amorous elements with Eggers-Ellen, she’s going after the same thing. This, when Classic Dracula is very much about preying on those who are terrified of and/or loathe him—he’s a conqueror, not a suitor. If you want it, he doesn’t want you. So it’s very possible that Ellen’s unwittingly set herself up for not only disappointment, but a potentially violent end.

“Sounds fucked up. But again, where’s the ‘love story’ bit? What’s up with him taking the locket?”

The locket that Thomas had. Of his wife, who he loves. Who he risked death and worse to crawl his way home to. Who, if he’s anything more like the novel Jonathan Harker he was based on, would become aware of Ellen’s condition/Orlokian preference and simply be heartbroken, yet still unable to turn against her. Ever.

Thomas Hutter’s heart belongs to Ellen, breaking or not. Thomas is also the one who Orlok clings to like his own shadow for the entire stay in the castle. The locket is taken not because it’s an image of Ellen <3, but because it’s an image of the competition/distraction for Orlok’s pet real estate agent who he is Very Normal about. And this is all supposing he doesn't just outright destroy the locket in a petty rage, per the vile thing-mirror scene.

The climax comes with Orlok about to off Ellen, only for Thomas to arrive and offer a trade. Him for her. Orlok takes the deal, latching happily onto Thomas and setting himself up for the sunrise trap. It would make sense. It would boot the old Reinforced Hetero rule of ‘he has to be drinking a pure maiden for it to work!!’ It would be genuinely subversive and tragic as a gothic love triangle, perhaps capped with un-Van Helsing arriving too late and finding Ellen grieving over the corpse of Thomas, Orlok having gone to burning dust as he fed.

Which could lean toward a special knife twist ending in itself:

Ellen mourns not just what was lost, but what she threw away, not realizing what she had in Thomas until he died for her. Tragique. ...Unless.

Ellen refuses to let un-Van Helsing ‘desecrate’ Thomas’ corpse with stake and saw. In fact, she kills him outright when he tries. Cut to the next evening, where Ellen sits patient and unblinking at Thomas’ bedside. The sun goes down. Cue some implying beat in which we realize that Ellen’s clocked that she’s been misinterpreting her prophetic dreams all this time. An epiphany that comes to fruition as we see her smile at some sudden change off-screen while facing Thomas’ cadaver on the bed.

The Embodiment of Death she was pining for was never Orlok, but Thomas. Rather, Thomas fully metamorphosed into Nosferatu.

“Come to me,” she whispers. “Hear my call…”

Thomas hears. A claw-tipped hand raises up to hers. The wedding ring on it gleams.

The End. (?)

It won’t happen. I know it won’t happen. But goddamn would I love to be proven wrong.

[cnt-21]

Endless Nighttime Sky

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x f!reader

summary: feyd-rautha was never supposed to be a harkonnen.

wc: 2240

warnings: angst, canon typical violence, referenced sex, references to the baron being a creep, major character death

a/n: i merged pt 2 movie feyd and book feyd bc my antidepressants won’t let me sleep or cry or feel so now we all suffer

⟢

⟢

Feyd-Rautha’s life has never been colorful, even before his Uncle brought him and his brother to Giedi Prime after the incident. But Lankiveil was a different type of colorless than Giedi Prime. Endless snow and endless sea and endless sky were only ever interrupted by the occasional building or boat or cloud, it was a natural absence of color. On Giedi Prime, color wasn’t absent, rather, it was stolen. Extinguished by the light of the black sun.

As a child, he could step outside and see the pink of his skin, the blue of the sea, and her cerise colored lips stretched into a smile. Feyd tried not to think of such things underneath the black sun of Giedi Prime, focusing instead on the blades in his hands, the rush of blood in his veins, and the roar of the crowd as he cut down his opponent. It’s easy in the arena, watching the blood seep out of wounds of the fighting men, like watching ink bleed across paper.

As the second son of a second son, Feyd shouldn’t have been the heir to anything, let alone his Uncle’s Barony, but his Uncle’s preferences and his brother’s violent tendencies all but shoved the title of na-Baron into his lap. He wishes he could’ve kept his mother’s name, wishes the name Rabban hadn’t been tainted by his degenerate brother, wishes he hadn’t been corrupted by the Harkonnen name.

Glossu was supposed to be Uncle’s heir. Glossu “Beast” Rabban should’ve been na-Baron Glossu Harkonnen. Glossu was supposed to go to Giedi Prime by himself, and Feyd wouldn’t have had to learn to fight as a gladiator, to hide poison needles in his clothes, to seek comfort in pleasure slaves and pain. Feyd-Rautha Rabban would’ve learned how to navigate using the stars and how to sail the icy seas and how to love his wife, a girl promised to him since conception.

He thinks he already did love her, when he was a child and still the future Count of Lankiveil and she was the future Countess. He remembers her fondly with a burning behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest that he suppresses because that is a weakness he cannot afford. But sometimes when he’s alone, after a fight or a fuck or another filler, he allows himself to think of cold nights. Whale fur kept the two of them dry and warm in the snow as they made their way to the lighthouse. They’d race up the stairs and he would win every time because his legs were slightly longer and he could take two at a time and only trip once.

The door to the gallery was heavy, but he’d manage to open it before she could catch up with him. He would hold it open for her until she joined him outside, and they’d laugh at their mingling breath visible in the frigid air before leaning against the railing, uncaring of whether or not the old metal could hold their combined weight. She would point at which constellations were visible in the sky and list off the most memorable stars. Feyd would listen even though he already knew which constellations were out and every star in each one, not just the brightest or prettiest sounding, because he was the future Count of Lankiveil and he would need to know those things. But letting her talk meant he could watch her, admire her red nose, rosy cheeks, cerise smile, and messy hair.

Feyd can’t remember which stars she had chosen to name their children after, can’t even remember which constellations were visible on Lankiveil from the Rabban manse. Giedi Prime is far, surrounded by different constellations, different stars, and polluted with millennia of industry. Even if he looked to the sky, there wouldn’t be any stars to name.

He doesn’t think of stars in the arena. Or even the black sun and the colors it stole. He focuses on the blades in his hand, the drugged Atreides soldiers he is meant to kill, and Lady Margot Fenring. Except one of the soldiers isn’t drugged. It’s not really a problem, Feyd is an excellent fighter. Gladiator fights are mere public training matches for him. It’s been years since he struggled against anyone in a fight. But it’s unexpected, which means someone planned to catch him off guard. He would accuse Glossu if he thought his brother had the intelligence to come up with such a plan. It could only be his Uncle and that twisted Mentat of his.

The sober soldier’s movements are too exact, missing the sluggish, inaccurate movements of intoxication. If he were a lesser man he’d let his surprise affect his fighting, slip up, make a mistake, but he was trained for this. The fireworks go off, signaling his victory with inky explosions in the sky, all color and brightness consumed by the black hole sun, and Feyd represses the memories of his first fight—not in the arena, but at home. On Lankiveil, in the snow, him against Glossu.

Lady Margot Fenring proves to be an excellent comfort. She provides the necessary pain and pleasure while he’s free to relinquish control. But he’s grown too accustomed to the almost inhuman appearance of those on Giedi Prime. Their hairless, paper white skin, dilated pupils, androgynous figures. It’s easy to lose track of who is who, to pretend the pain and pleasure is entirely him, that he is whole. But Lady Margot Fenring doesn’t subscribe to the beauty standards of Giedi Prime. In the unnatural lighting of his chambers, he can see the pink of her skin, her pupil surrounded by her iris, and the peach fuzz on her arms.

When Lady Margot Fenring leaves, Feyd allows himself to remember the girl that would have been his wife. They would have been married by now. It would’ve been a winter wedding regardless of season because there was always a pileup of snow near the Rabban manse. Her dress would have been as white as the snow, made of silk and lined with whale fur to keep warm, and dripping in diamonds and pearls. She’d be a woman grown, bust and waist filled out, but her nose red, cheeks rosy, and her cerise colored lips curved in a smile. They’d consummate their marriage in the warmth of the Rabban manse and he’d have his own future Count of Lankiveil on the way.

Feyd can understand the economic allure of Arrakis, but actually being on the desert planet feels wrong. He was born on the snowy seaside, the complete opposite of Arrakis. Dry heat feels uncomfortable on his skin, reminding him of the warnings his parents told him about frostbite, becoming so cold you believe you're overheating. But his presence was necessary, otherwise his Uncle’s scheming for him to end up on the throne would all be for naught.

He’s not particularly worried when Arrakeen is attacked. When he’s rounded up with the Emperor and his people to meet the leader of the fremen, the one they call Muad’Dib, he allows the guards to take his weapons and ignores the one that openly glares at him with pure loathing. He stands at the back of the crowd, vaguely listening to the apparently not dead Paul Atreides bicker with the old crone before addressing the Emperor. It’s much the same drivel as before, until—

“Majesty, is there a Harkonnen among you?”

“I believe my entourage has been placed under the protection of your ducal word.”

And again Atreides begins his bickering with the Emperor, setting a trap until he gets what he wants.

“Kanly!”

Feyd has grown tired of this.

“Your father named his vendetta, Atreides. You call me a coward while you hide among your women and offer to send a lackey against me!”

There is no black hole sun on Arrakis to steal away the color, no blades in his hand to wield against inebriated flesh, no pleasure for comfort. Only pain.

The Emperor and his truthsayer discuss the rules of kanly. Atreides’ own people try to talk him out of the challenge.

“Is the Atreides ready?” Feyd called once the Emperor’s blade sat alone on the floor, everyone else cleared away for the ritual duel.

“May thy knife chip and shatter!” Atreides forwent the ritual words, gesturing for Feyd to pick up the Emperor’s blade.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd mocked, getting a feel for the knife in his hand.

“Shall we fight, cousin?” Atreides asked, cat-footing forward with his own blade in hand, crouched low to the floor.

“How beautifully you dance,” Feyd said as they began to circle each other, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain composed as he’s reminded of a frigid sea. “Have you been shriven?”

No response. Only blue within blue.

They circle each other.

He continues his taunts, earning only a smile from Atreides as they turn. Feyd leaps at him, feinting with his right hand only to switch the knife to his left. He tries not to remember her hand in his, switching so that she’d be farther away from the cliff face and the choppy waves crashing against the frozen rocks.

“Perhaps you think this dance prolongs your life a few moments,” Feyd said, standing still and straightening.

Atreides doesn’t attack, still hesitant.

“Why prolong the inevitable? You but keep me from exercising my rights over this ball of dirt.”

In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to leave Arrakis. He wanted to return to Lankiveil where he could rule as Count, wear whale fur-lined clothes without poison needles hidden in the fabric, and look for his children among the stars.

“Why don’t you speak?”

Somehow, even with the threat of death, Atreides managed to make a fight boring.

“You smile, eh?” Feyd asked, leaping mid sentence and catching Atreides’ left arm with the downflash of his blade.

The two return to circling each other, crouching low to the floor.

“That woman you were talking to over there. The little one. Is she something special to you? A pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?”

Feyd’s chest tightens as he sees the imagined white silk dress embellished with diamonds and pearls, a cerise smile, and her hair messily done up to make room for the fur capelet tied around her shoulders.

Atreides remains silent, smiling, and Feyd leaps forward, stabbing. Feinting slowness, Atreides managed to land a cut before Feyd jumped away, switching the knife in his hands.

Again, they begin to circle each other, watching. Atreides moving his knife to his left hand to match Feyd. Blue within blue, Feyd can see her smile frozen on her face, lips turning blue and the waves rising higher.

Feyd approaches Atreides, feinting right and under, until they’re pressed against each other, knife hands straining. Atreides forces them to turn right, barely missing the poison dart flipping out from Feyd’s belt, trapping himself beneath the Harkonnen.

Even though he’s the one speaking, Feyd isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Something about the poison dart, most likely. But staring into the Atreides’ eyes of Ibad, Feyd only thinks of the girl that would’ve been his wife. Of his first fight in the snow, the rage he felt after his brother threw his betrothed aside carelessly, over the cliffside into the frozen, rocky waves. How his father tried to stop the beast, only to be killed himself, and the two brothers were left on the cliffside alone. Breathing ragged, bleeding, and their eyes burning with unshed, frozen tears.

His hair had been long then, he’s sure Glossu ripped out part of his scalp along with a lock of his dark hair when he first tackled him. He can still see her soaked to the bone lying broken on the rocks, so drenched and frozen was she that her whale fur coat had no chance of helping, her messy hair plastered to her graying skin, lips turned blue.

“I will not say it!” Atreides gasped, stunning Feyd out of his reverie.

Atreides used the fraction of an opening to find a weakness of balance in Feyd’s leg muscles. Suddenly their positions were switched, and Feyd was partially underneath Atreides, unable to turn due to his poison needle catching on the floor, and Atreides twisted his left hand free to plunge his knife up through Feyd’s jaw and into his brain.

His body sagged to the ground, lifeless. There was no black hole sun to hide the paling of his corpse, to liken his blood to spilled ink, to steal the color of the scene.

“Feyd!” A girlish voice snapped at him.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she sighed, leaning away from him on the balcony of the lighthouse.

“Then tell me again,” Feyd said, sliding along railing to be next to her again.

Her cerise colored lips curve back into a smile as her hand dashed out to grab his jaw to force his eyes to the stars. The underside of his jaw is warmed by the soft skin of her palm, her small fingers freezing fast in the weather now that they’re not sheltered by the pocket of her coat. Still, she doesn’t move her hand, waving the other one wildly at the sky, focusing his attention on the stars as she tries to convince him that Mirzam is the perfect name for their son.

[drvirgus]

Protecting (my heart)

Idol! Minji X bodyguard! Reader

Description: getting a new job as NewJeans bodyguard isn't really something Y/n thought would happen to her. What exactly happens when she suddenly felt attracted to one of the NewJeans members? Can Y/n stay professional or are her feelings for Minji too much to handle?

Warnings: stalking; harassment; kys jokes; suggestive language; death threats; mention of abuse; mention of murder;

Chapter: the Ex (half-Written)

Masterlist

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Sighing, I closed my car door. Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was only 9 PM. I headed straight to the restaurant, which appeared closed from the outside.

"We're closed," the man behind the bar said seriously, prompting me to politely smile. "Good evening. I'm Hanni's Bodyguard," I introduced myself, "I was called to pick you up," I added, and the man behind the counter immediately nodded, pointing to the corner of the room.

I bowed slightly and made my way to the designated corner. I could immediately hear some voices and positioned myself next to the table. All eyes turned to me, and I glanced at each person at the table.

Sullyoon and Bae from Nmixx.

Belle from Kiss of Life.

Rei and Liz from Ive.

Yunah from Illit.

But my breath caught when I saw Yuna from Itzy sitting at the table. The slightly tipsy woman also looked at me with wide eyes. "Y/n?" she asked with her mouth open. Sullyoon and Bae waved at me joyfully, which I didn't see as I focused on Yuna.

"Do you know each other?" I suddenly heard from Minji, and I immediately turned my head to the woman at the end of the table. Hanni had laid her head on Minji's shoulder and seemed to be dozing off.

Almost automatically, my jaw tensed, and I cleared my throat to say something. "I've known Y/n for a while. She and Yeji-Unnie were..." Yuna began, but I immediately interrupted the younger one by placing my hand on her shoulder. I simply shook my head, as she was about to reveal too much.

I looked at Bae and Sullyoon. "Should I call Haewon? Or Lily?" I asked, which Bae immediately shook her head at. She smiled at me, "I already called Haewon," Sullyoon said, nodding, so I agreed.

I removed my hand from Yuna's shoulder and looked at the other idols. "We're staying," Rei said with a smile, and I nodded in understanding.

I watched as Minji stood up from her seat and held Hanni's arm. I simply chuckled and wrapped my arm around Hanni's waist. "Let me," I said to the taller person, her cheeks slightly red from alcohol.

I nodded goodbye to the idols at the table and led Hanni, arm in arm, to the car. Minji followed us silently. I settled Hanni in the back seat and securely fastened the intoxicated woman.

"Y/n," I heard a familiar voice say, and I turned around. Minji was leaning against the passenger door, also looking at the redhead who approached us. My eyes focused on Yuna.

The redhead nervously laughed as she glanced first at Minji and then back at me. "Um... could you maybe give me a ride?" she asked, folding her hands pleadingly. "I'd rather ride with you than... call someone," Yuna said, eyebrows slightly raised as she hesitated to speak the name.

I don't want to...

I don't even want to be near...

Sighing, I looked at Minji. "Is that okay?" I asked the person next to me, who looked at me with narrowed eyes and then at Yuna. She only nodded hesitantly.

Once again, I let out a sigh and nodded to Yuna. "Then get in," I said as I finally made my way to the driver's side. It didn't take long for the idols to be in the car and buckled up.

I started the engine and focused solely on the road. I noticed Minji, sitting in the passenger seat, messing with the radio, and soon a voice I knew all too well filled the car's speakers.

"Please play another song," I said, my jaw and body tense as I heard my ex-girlfriend's voice through the speakers.

Minji looked at me questioningly but complied with my request and changed the song. I relaxed again. "Y/n..." I heard Yuna say softly from the passenger seat. The redhead sighed defeatedly, prompting Minji to look at Yuna and then at me, her forehead visibly furrowed.

"Y/n and Yeji were together," Yuna said, explaining my reaction to Yeji voice. Minji then looked at me. "They broke up a few months ago," Yuna added with a small sigh.

My jaw tensed, and I just focused on the road. Minji hummed something as she looked at Yuna, but then silence fell in the car. I could feel Minji's gaze on me repeatedly, but I skillfully ignored it.

———————————————————————————

Patiently, I waited for Minji to open the front door. Hanni, drunk in my arms, tried to wriggle free, so I pulled her closer. Minji finally opened the door. „Her room is the second to last down the hallway," the taller woman said, to which I simply nodded and carried the intoxicated woman to her room.

With a furrowed brow, I laid her on her bed and stretched my back. Sighing, I then took off her shoes and the light jacket she was wearing. I also removed her socks and covered her up.

I wouldn't undress her any further than necessary.

Quietly, I left the room and closed the door behind me. With soft steps, as the other NewJeans members were probably all asleep, I made my way back to the front door. "Wait."

Turning to Minji, I raised an eyebrow questioningly. A small smile crept onto my face as I saw the younger woman hesitate. Her cheeks still slightly flushed. "Um... would you like a coffee? As a thank you for picking us up," Minji asked with a small smile, gesturing with her thumb towards her kitchen.

"I'm sorry," I began, visibly relaxing. A smile still on my face. "But I'm really not in the mood for coffee. I'll treat you next time, okay?" I asked as I looked up at the taller woman.

Minji's mouth slightly opened in surprise at the rejection. She apparently didn't expect me to decline the offer. Her eyes fixed on me, "Is it because of... Yuna?" she asked, her forehead furrowed with concern as she scrutinized every expression on my face.

My eyebrow twitched slightly, but I tried not to show anything. I still wore the smile on my face. "I'll treat you next time," I repeated, bidding farewell to the idol and leaving the younger woman's apartment.

My eyes glanced one last time at Minji as I closed the door behind me.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 33: Heavy silks

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None A/n: I based the wizarding wedding traditions on this Reddit post. ALSO IGNORE THE FACE ON THE DRESS. I DIDN'T SEE IT AT FIRST OKAY🥲 [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Your feet ache and the dress the seamstresses are anxiously fitting on you is heavy. The rich silk which feels soft against your skin. One of the ladies accidentally pricks you with a needle and you flinch. She starts to stutter out apologies as your aunt and Bellatrix hover nearby, glaring at the poor woman.

But you pay them no attention. Rather, you are focused on the Daily Prophet in your hands. There you are- the front page of the Daily Prophet standing behind Pius Thicknesse and next to Delores Umbridge. You look cold and heartless, a serious look on your face. You like what is expected of you by everybody.

Dolores — you're taking delight in calling that miserable toad by her first name since she can't do anything about it — has a satisfied smile on her face. 

You don't even want to talk about Yaxley and Runcorn. Creeps.

What, however, saddens you the most is that your true identity was revealed with this arctice. Full name and all underneath the picture taken during the speech.

From left to right: Albert Runcorn, Dolores Umbridge, (Y/n) Riddle, Heir of the Dark Lord, Pius Thicknesse, and Corban Yaxley.

It sickens you that they had to include the fact about who you're a child of. 

You feel people look at you and you quickly put away the papers, focusing instead on the others in the room. "I'm sorry?"

"How does the dress feel?", repeats Aunt Cissy her question as she sits on a chase in the corner, her eyes slightly watery.

You look at yourself in the mirror. Smoothing your hands over the bodice of the dress, you frown. It doesn't really look like a wedding dress you would have wanted to wear. But the Lord himself insisted that the fabrics must be in traditional Slytherin colours. Being prideful of our house and forefathers and whatnot.

"Good", you manage to croak out, not having spoken at all today. There was no need for you to. Every aspect of the wedding is already decided or is being decided by someone else.

Bellatrix raises one eyebrow. "Just good?"

You shake your head. "No. Great. I love it! It's just what I always dreamed of." You give the seamstresses your best and brightest smile. But you know it doesn't reach your eyes. 

"May I be excused?", you ask to nobody in particular. You have to get out. Out of the dress. Out of the Mannor. Away.

Once you're released from your dress, you hurry outside. One part of the garden is off-limits to anyone except you and anyone you bring with you. You've heard Death Eaters discuss the place and that they have deemed it an honour to be invited by you to that corner of the garden. Ugh, as if.

When you finally reach it, someone's already seated on the stone bench located in the middle. You round the bench and go sit next to Draco, whose shoulders are sagged.

"How's Theodore?", he asks, not looking at you.

"He's fine. Getting his tux fitted right now."

"How are you?"

Now that is a loaded question. "Fine", you answer curtly, but both of you know that that is not true. You've been far from 'fine'. "Absolutely miserable. But I imagine that I speak for the three of us."

Your cousin looks at you. He is paler than he has ever been. Obviously has he not been eating and sleeping well. You know for a fact that if you didn't have Theo you would be in the same state.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" 

Leaning over, you rest your head against his shoulder. You sniff and swallow the lump in your throat. There is no need to answer Draco's question. Of course, you're not. Nobody is ready to unwillingly marry at seventeen.

You hesitate for a moment, questioning yourself if you can really ask that of him. You instead bite the bullet and just ask it. "Will you give me away?"

Draco senses up, snapping his head towards you. "What?", he asks incredulously.

"Tomorrow. Will you give me away? My... father won't be there, too busy with himself. And I want to not be it anyone other than you."

Draco's speechless. His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as he stares at you. You give him a small, unsure smile. Just as you want to take your words back and tell him to forget you asked, he engulfs you in a tight hug.

"Thank you", he whispers, "I would be honoured."

There is a knock on your door as you sit alone in your bedroom, the stylists just having left and let you be by yourself for a moment. Picking up the many layers of skirts of your dress, you make your way over to the door. 

Cracking it open just a smidge you're surprised to find Theo. "What are you doing here?", you whisper-shout, looking around the hall. "It's bad luck if you see me before the ceremony."

"I wanted- needed to see you."

You take his hand and pull him into your room. He presses his forehead against yours as he smiles. "Hi", he whispers. 

"Hi", you whisper back, smiling shyly. You caress his face and push back the locks that escaped his gelled hair. "Your hair is stubborn", you giggle. 

Theo's eyes flicker over your face, leaning into your touch. "I didn't think you could even look more beautiful than Yule Ball. I love to be proven wrong." He gives you a quick kiss before holding you at arm's length and ordering you to spin.

You do so and the many diamonds in your hair shimmer in the sunlight. Your gown balloons around you and it makes you smile to see the adoration on Theo's face. 

He looks good. Theo's wearing a suit with embroidered sleeves in a matching shade of green to your dress. The embroidery shimmers in the light, giving the effect of it moving on its own.

Theo pats his jacket in search of something and pulls out a small box from one of the inside pockets. He looks unsure for a moment before getting down on one knee and opening the box. A beautiful golden ring with a pearl in the middle that’s enchanted to display little pearlescent swirls within.

"I know we're doing this backwards... but will you do me the honour of marrying me?" Theo looks up at you, his brows knitted together and his hands shaky.

You stand breathlessly for a moment, your eyes fixed on the ring. Slowly you nod as a smile breaks out on your face. "It would be nothing more I wish than to marry you."

He jumps up from his kneeled position and takes you in his arms, swirling you around. You kiss him while he slips the ring on your finger. You look at it and clutch your hand to your chest, running your thumb over the stone.

A harsh knock on the door pops the little happy bubble the two of you are in. "Quick, hide", you whisper, pushing him behind an armchair. You open the door and peek outside. A relieved sigh escapes you as it is only Draco.

"You haven't seen Theodore by chance, have you?"

You pull him inside before locking the door and tell Theo to come out. His head of brown curls pops from behind the high back of the chair as he gets up to his feet.

Draco smiles as Theo naturally gravitates towards you, his hand searching yours. "They are looking for you. It is about to start."

Theo gives your hand a squeeze as he leans in for a kiss. "See you soon", he says with a smile, giving one last kiss before leaving the room.

You sigh. Now that he left, the anxiousness you've been feeling all day returns. Pacing the room, you drag your dress behind you as you chew on your cheek, not wanting to ruin the lipstick. 

A hand suddenly takes ahold of your own and you turn to look at Draco. He gives you a sad smile that wordlessly tells you that it is time.

From the way to the room where the ceremony will be held is all a blur until the double doors are opened for you and everybody turns around. You tightly clutch Draco's arm as he leads you down the aisle, towards Theo.

At the end stands your only driving for your feet to be moving. He has a soft smile on his face and eyes filled with love. Once you've reached the end without a hitch, Draco extends his arm and places your hand in Theo's. The two boys share a look before your cousin takes a step back.

Much of the ceremony is the same haze. The only thing you can focus on is your heavily beating heart and those warm brown eyes peering into your own. You follow the orders of the officiant to place the golden robes over Theo's shoulders and clasp the bracelet with your house crest, his house crest, and the rune of love around his wrist. Theo does the same to you, tracing your knuckles once the bracelet is secured on both of your wrists by magic. 

"And with the power invested in me by the Ministry, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may share your first kiss as a married couple."

Your eyes meet Theo's and you close the gap, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his. You cup his face as he leans into you, wrapping his hands around your middle. 

For just a moment, it's the two of you. Not the room full of Death Eaters. No expectant stares, empty looks and contestant sneers. It's just you and your now husband.

Merlin, how great it feels to finally say that.

You close your eyes, breathing in deeply. "I love you, Teddy."

Theo beams up at you. "I love you too."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 58

Hey remember when randomly a couple days ago in the event I mentioned that one of these days makes me irrationally angry??? Yeah this is the one. 

So context for this one is that in the danganronpa section of a server I’m in someone asked a question around the lines of-

“Who is your favorite character for a Mastermind AU?”

Nowadays if you asked me, I’m very fond of the Mastermind AU I drew for Toko and Komaru during Tokomaru Week this year, and it’d probably be my answer nowadays.

However if you asked Jem from several months ago, who was brainrotted to absolute hell over these two to the point that she could barely form an opinion on other characters (don’t worry I fixed that issue in my brain, kinda), you know damn well her instant response was Mikan.

At first it was kind of a non-serious filler answer because I didn’t have anyone else who piqued my interest for that at the time. Arguably at first I wasn’t even interested in Mastermind Mikan initially. And then my brain saw I was apathetic to it and was like “Hold my drink” before it spiraled into an AU, which I of course would then use for Day 58 at the time. 

I drew up a character design and some basic details in a total rush, and then drew a really basic but cute enough image of the two alongside various headcanons for this version of the relationship. I actually intended to draw a bonus image of the two on their own just because I felt like I was kinda scamming ya’ll if I didn’t. However I have like, none of the time for that on my hands right now, I’m JUST starting to learn Web Design at the time of writing this. If people like this enough I might try and actually draw some proper art of this AU again though.

As for why this day makes me angry, uhhhh yeah no it’s completely irrational. I have no justification in the slightest I just know that every time i scroll past this  one while looking through the folder of Junkan art for the project I just get annoyed.

I’m actually really happy with the Mastermind Mikan design, might be a biiiit overdesigned? But let’s be real if we’ve learned anything over the course of whatever the hell you’d call this project, it’d be that I am nothing if not a woman of pure excess, especially within the small realm of this ship. 

Okay so hi this is Jem from like, slightly in the future. And when I say slightly I mean like 20 minutes ahead of the previous paragraph. 

So I drew a Monokuma for this AU. Something I didn’t do for my Mastermind Tokomaru AU. I kind of had the idea for a Mikan version of Monokuma in my head for a decent amount of time, partially because I also want to do some art of Mikan and Junko in Shiro/Kurokuma cosplays later (yeah sorry spoilers there is no shiro or kurokuma representation in this project. But worry not, UDG does have representation, muuuuuch later). That made me think about how Shirokuma does kind of have similarities to Mikan (i think, it’s been awhile), which made me realize that monokuma but purple sounded neat. So there’s this now.

I imagine that Junko would still be voicing this version from behind the scenes. Partially because unless it’s literally an Ultimate Voice Actor Mikan AU there’s no way she can do that for a whole killing game. The other reason is I just kind of imagine that Mikan would take a similar role to Tsumugi, being both a member of the killing game and the mastermind, rather than what Junko did where she faked her death and orchestrated from behind the scenes without suspicions. Also yes this would mean that Junko is behind the scenes as normal, just that this time she’s solely focused on managing Monokuma. The Control Room is directly connected to Mikan’s room for easy, non-suspicious access to all the mechanisms. And also so the two of them can cuddle at night, obviously. 

Oh yeah with this Monokuma Redesign I would probably also change Mikan’s hair pin to reflect the same color scheme, even if I do like the way it looks with normal Monokuma colors. I would also probably make a “normal” Mikan design for this version. Just tone back certain parts of it to give the illusion that she isn’t the mastermind. Y’know, for the game that will totally exist based off this au, definitely. 

Honestly I think rambling about it has made me soften up on this one a bit, for now at least. So for real I might try and draw more of this AU regardless of whether people want it or not. That said y’know, if you DO want more of it feel free to say so cause that will in fact give me some mild motivation lol.

Oh I guess last thing. When I first showed the initial Reference image of this Mikan to friends one of them pointed out that I accidentally made her plan into, what is essentially the American Healthcare System. I swear to god that wasn’t intentional but it did make me laugh. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[spcewild]

hi, I recently read ur Leon fic and never laughed so hard. Could I request one where his wife was out hanging with her friends leaving him with the kids. But he gets a random zoom call or something having to leave the kids playing with themselves—got bored and start looking for him resulting the kids walking on him and just chaos. Thank you

(Hii anon, sorry this took so long! I've been really busy recently but I finally got to it! I wanted to do Death Island Leon since.. we all know he's a literal dilf. I mean, c'mon. Anyways I hope u enjoy this!!)

Unattended

Pairing: Leon Kennedy (death island ver.) x (fem!) reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You're just going out with your friends. Your husband can handle the twins while he's on a zoom meeting right? No big deal. Except it is.

"I'll be back soon, hun."

You spoke to your husband, giving him a quick kiss before heading out the door. This would be the first time in a while that you would be able to go out without taking your kids with you. Usually, you would be the one who took care of them while Leon did most of the shopping or went out.

But after many words encouraged by your friends (even Leon approved), you finally decided to let loose and go out with your friends, leaving your husband to attend to the kids.

The reason why you were so wary about leaving Leon with the kids was.. well, they're kids. And you were the one who usually would deal with them. Crying? Hungry? You took care of them. Not that Leon didn't do anything because he certainly did, but you had just gotten into the habit of it.

The other reason was because your husband had a meeting. You didn't want him to be bombarded by the responsibility of having to watch the kids when he's busy in a meeting. But with words of reassurance from him, you reluctantly agreed.

After all , how hard could it be?

We're the words that Leon repeated in his head. So far it was fairly quiet. Which would usually be a good sign but with your kids? It was never a good sign..

They had to be planning something if they were this quiet. With a hesitant click, Leon entered the Zoom call that was supposedly to be a meeting. After a while, he soon adjusted to his quiet environment, focusing on the words of his boss as him and many other coworkers were speaking on different ideas. His focus tended to wander during his boss's long rant on whatever he was speaking on. However, unbeknownst to Leon; he had two little followers that were stalking his call. Your twins. Poking their head out from a wall to "sneakily" spy on Leon. The two children had planned this once you had left.

So with a thumbs up from your daughter as an indicator, your son sprung into action; doing a poor attempt at a cartwheel to hide behind another piece of furniture. The poor attempt making a thud as his foot hit the wall. Your daughter gave him a knowing look as if mocking him, whilst your son simply shrugged.

Hearing the thud, Leon snapped his head to the direction of the noise. Finding nothing he soon turned back to his meeting just in time for his boss to ask a question, throwing Leon off guard for a moment before his "uhhh" was cut off by a child's giggle. As he turned his head back behind him, he was finally met with the two children giggling. Your daughter particularly amused by the faces your son was making.

Leon quirked his brow confused for a moment before it clicked to him - your son was mocking his boss...

"Mr. Kennedy, do you intend on answering my question anytime soon?"

Leon heard his boss say in an annoyed tone, knowing it's better to reply rather than argue with his rude tone.

"Yes sir! Sorry sir, uhm.."

He stuttered over his words slightly before hearing the two children giggle once more. Now at Leon's nervous state, pushing a finger to his lips Leon gave the kids a shushing motion before being met with his daughter mocking his motion, the sticking her tongue out as the two laughed, leaving Leon to let out a sigh in defeat before trying to resume back to his meeting.

The meeting was only met by screaming and chaos by the children as Leon did his best to stay intact and interact calmly. His boss clearly unimpressed with his attempts.

After the long day (and meeting) had soon come to a close and you had returned, you were met with your husband's figure slumped over on the table and asleep as his laptop was open. You smiled to yourself as you brushed a strand of his hair from out of his face. Then looking to his computer for a moment before seeing the Google search on the screen read;

"How to get kids to stop interrupting me working"

AUTHORS NOTE:

Sorry this was rushed! I've been really busy recently but this was rlly fun to write <3

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Four) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, angsty!Rick, hallucinations, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Thank you all so much for the outpour of support :))), I hope I can do right by you guys and this story. I kind of have a plan, but we'll see where it goes. Thanks for reading, and enjoy! This one is based loosely off Rick's hallucinations of Lori, etc. A short update for the girlies (gn). Expect some slowburn soon :)]]

"Y/N?" Beth spoke as you shifted around -Judith tied tight to your chest in a makeshift carrier (out of sheets for a few of the extra cells) so you could still do the rounds. She was under your care until further notice because of a cough she'd seemed to gather from someone.

"Beth, hey," you answered, relaxing slightly at the unrushed tone of her voice -you'd been waiting for the emergency to come. The one where your hands would shake and your breath would quicken, but you'd still remember exactly what to do.

It was a relaxing feeling, your body knowing better than your head -the stress of a life on your hands would make them shake, but your brain wouldn't stop the function.

Then, you looked at her.

"Beth? What's wrong?"

She frowned, biting at her bottom lip and you could see the shine of tears in her eyes, "Daryl saw Rick standing aimlessly in the yard. He said he was crying-"

"Okay, okay," you spoke, placing your hands on her shoulders, "-calm down. Did he seem lucid?"

"I don't- I don't know," she stuttered out, her tone shaky and just... scared, "-Daryl said he was getting too close to the fence. I mean, he can't be-"

"Alright," you took a deep breath, hoping to get her to match it, "-let's get you and Judith to Maggie, okay? And I'll go check on Rick."

Your steps were quick with a purpose, and it felt distantly like your life before. Instead of concrete and barbed wire fences, it was white hallways and the squeak of tennis shoes. It was nostalgic, almost, but it was short-lived.

"Maggie," you spoke, hushed, "-can you keep an eye on these two? I've got to-"

"I know," she answered, hugging Judith to her chest - eyes a bit fallen and a shine of fear as bright as you'd seen it. Your eyes flickered to behind her, where the big blue eyes you'd found familiar looked at you - Carl.

You nodded with your lips sealed, knowing Rick would've rather this be private. No one wanted their issues so plastered as his were. With a sensitive structure as the apocalypse could only create, seeing their leader in this state could only do harm.

Your steps echoed through the halls along the concrete as you made your way to the courtyard - which was still fenced in, but if you got too close...

Your feet sped up.

Daryl was along the outskirts of the fence, and probably the least composed you'd ever seen him, hands messing through his hair and fidgeting along his clothes.

"He's just-" his voice faltered, just slightly, "-just starin'."

Sure enough, Rick was in the courtyard -eyes distant as he faced away from you to, into an empty corner. He looked purposeful, though; his stance curved forward as his head hung ever so slightly -like it was resting against something but there was thin air in front of him.

"No," you spoke, focusing on the hum you could hear, "-he's speaking too. Whispers."

"Whose he talkin' too?"

You started at the man, his open defeat, vulnerability, and the gentle whisper of his tone. He could trust them, or at least he had once. Just then, in the way the sun landed across the field, his wedding band glimmered.

"I think I know."

Daryl didn't say anything else as you stepped forward into the area, slow and precise. You carefully stepped among the grass -just to avoid startling him. It could only worsen what he'd been experiencing or what you assumed he was.

"Rick?" You questioned, so soft it was almost a whisper. The man didn't move an inch, head still tilted forward, and eyes trained ahead of himself. He stood a fair bit away from any oncoming walkers, so the danger wasn't immense. You could take this as slow as you needed.

"Rick?" You hummed again, gentle and barely a tone above the first one.

You were close enough to hear him now, his tone was quiet, but you could hear it -a desperate plea, "I'm sorry."

"Rick..." you whispered, as close as you felt he'd be comfortable with at the moment, "Rick, can you hear me?"

He didn't move toward you or move his head at the sound, yet he responded -tone just a hair above a whisper, gravelly and distraught, "Yes."

"Okay, good," you spoke in response, "-who are you talking to, Rick?"

You had an idea, but confirming it could only help. Assessing the situation calmly was the main key to talking someone down in any sort of situation -other than comfort and making sure no one was getting hurt.

"Lori," he spoke, not necessarily in response, but more so pleading, "-god, Lori, I'm so sorry. I couldn't- I didn't protect you and Carl."

He was gulping through air, breaths becoming shallower and the tears falling faster. Now, was the time to intervene, as the walkers stirred against the fences -thrashing and hopeless.

"Rick," you spoke, tone calm and settled, "-what's going on with Lori?"

"I just," he spoke, so quick after your question, you weren't sure it was an answer, "I just wanted to apologize. I could've-"

"Rick," you hummed, "-just breathe. Lori's not..."

"I know," he spoke, gravelly and direct. His tone was cold, and you felt a sort of unsettled chill down your spine, "-I know, she's not..."

He faltered off, eyes more lucid now -the fog you'd once seen not quite there now, but not exactly looking at you. His hands fidgeting at his sides, and his eyes stayed focused on the ground below him.

You didn't want to overstay or cross a boundary, so you stayed put. There was still an intimacy there, as you watched Rick curl into himself -hands moving at his eyes as if to wipe away tears that weren't there yet.

"Has Carl..." he started up, the whispery drawl low and almost... desperate, "-did he see me like this?"

"No," you answered, soft and reassured.

He laughed, a little bitterly, as he placed his head in his hands. His posture sinking, and his breaths becoming deeper -you stayed still, "Good."

You hummed, and your brain was distant with its constant worries, you felt your heart speak for a moment, "Rick?"

He spoke then, soft and quiet, barely a word. You took this as a notion to continue.

"I'm sorry. No one... no one deserves to have that pain. Especially you and Carl. You're-" you faltered, losing your words, "It's not your fault."

Rick stayed still, the hollow hum of his breaths being the only thing that really gave you the clue he was breathing. And you didn't even really know if he was listening, but you decided to take a chance on it.

"It'll be easier," you spoke, voice a little unsteady, "-eventually. I... I know."

He stayed quiet there, for a few more moments. The only noise was the distant wails of walkers, and the buzzing of some bugs around you. As you pushed on your heart, letting it seap through just to give someone comfort. You'd lost a lot, and you didn't think you'd ever talk about it. Not now, at least.

In your urge to comfort him, you'd joined him in the grass -almost unintentionally, you navigated to him. It was natural to you, comforting someone in a tough situation. Soft words, well wishes, hopeful promises.

Then, as your heart clenched in your chest and your eyes fogged up in just... grief, your hand was suddenly warmer than it had once been. Your eyes flicked to your hand in alarm, dispelling what had come on just before and-

There it was, he was holding your hand.

The gesture was innocent, really, a rock between the two of you -a sort of solidarity. The blades of grass under your fingertips just as grounding, but this was personal. An acknowledgement that despite not knowing each other that well... there was support there between the two of you.

With the shakiness of an inhaling breath, you murmured -just as low as the buzzing of the bugs, "Thank you."

Rick didn't respond, and he didn't really need to then. You understood enough.

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

🎀 in the late night of june, you sit beneath a mystic moon. well, rather, you're in a bar, all by your lonesome, pondering on what to order. in your daze, you didn't even see the strange man watching you.

yandere oc! x fem! reader

Despite being late June, the weather could not seem to make up its mind on how it was going to go. For the past few days, the sky kept going back and forth between being a beautiful blue to then suddenly changing to a gloomy grey, the air growing heavy with the threat of a downpour on any unsuspecting pedestrian.

You suppose you were no better than the weather, you figured. Toying with the the menu between your fingers, you noticed how it was filled to the brim with various drinks ranging from alcoholic to non alcoholic, hot or cold drinks, all of which was printed out on a pristine piece of jet black paper.

What to drink , what to drink?

The stress of exams was too much to bear, perhaps you could blame that for being so damn indecisive.

You let out a shiver as you noticed the waitresses cranking up the air conditioning to an insane degree. What was she trying to do, freeze you to death?! How inconsiderate...!

With a huff, you focused your attention back on the menu and came to the rational realization that perhaps it was for the best to get a simple fruit juice. But which kind? The offer was diverse and each flavor would surely satisfy your aching throat.

Just as you were getting ready to call out the waitresses, she seemingly beat you to the punch as she scurried towards you, a mysterious drink in her hand. The crystal glass shimmered softly against the dimly lit bar as the woman placed the drink in front of you, along with a scrunched up piece of paper. It couldn't be a bill as you had not ordered anything yet...

Seeing the confusion swirling in your eyes, the waitresses gave you a wink, beating you once again in terms of speed.

"See that guy in the corner over there?" she asked you, her tone laced with a sort of excitement. You nod, albeit slightly dumbly.

"It's from him!" she chirps happily.

Odd. You could have sworn that seat was not occupied just a few moments ago.

Taking the piece of paper in your hands, you unfold it to reveal neat handwriting, each letter and syllable written gently with a basic blue ink pen. It was a string of numbers, most likely his own phone number. Raising your head towards his direction, you noticed him eyeing you up and down, a boyish grin on his face.

He seemed normal enough, you reckoned. He seemed to be around his mid 20's, average height. He wore basic blue jeans and a cozy looking black t-shirt, which had no print on it. There were little to no accessories on his person other than a string which was hanging around his neck, most likely a necklace but was hidden from your view. Another thing worth taking note of was his phone case, which had a print of the Ghostface mask from the Scream franchise.

Ah, so he was a horror fan. How neat.

Feeling a little bold, you grabbed both your drink and the note and made your way towards him, never once breaking eye contact with the mystery man. Without a word, you shimmied across from him as you placed everything on the wooden table. A strange silence hovered in the air as neither one of you spoke for those few moments, but the man was clearly amused. Something was going on inside his head and he made no attempt to hide it, his light brown eyes basically dancing with pure glee. As if to ease the tension, he lightly smacked his lips and spoke:

"So. How are you on this fine evening?"

His tone was casual, as if he had known you for years, like he was chatting with an old pal back from the good ol' days. His entire demeanor was calm, dare you say friendly even. He raised his glass to his lips, the amber liquid in it swishing away as he took a sip, his gaze still not leaving yours.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

You couldn't help but to giggle a little.

"Ah, she speaks! Such delight!"

His tone was sweet like candy, lulling you in to feel safe. It was embarrassing how there was a part of you that actually seemed to be enjoying this encounter, but how could you not?

Life was so stale sometimes, so dull. The most exciting thing that would happen were the occasional outings with friends, all of which you loved dearly but... You craved more. It was unsure what you craved exactly, what you needed to get your heart beating and pulsing, but regardless you needed some excitement.

It was good to change the pace every once in a while.

The evening went on and you came to learn that the name of the mystery man was Will, an engineer student who transferred recently. He liked horror movies, mystery novels, cars and good beer. It was easy to chat and you shared many things with Will, even going as far to express the desire to see him again.

The sentiment was very much mutual.

As closing time was due, you exited the establishment with Will, his hand playfully linked with yours as he talked your ear off all of the fake guts in horror movies. He was so fascinated with the way films handled the production of those fake body parts, gooey blood and potential inducing nightmare fuel.

You made your way down the street together, the darkness of the night sky being slightly broken by the old street lights.

"Y'know..." he trailed off. He was still smiling.

"I always wondered what it would be like to actually kill a person."

It took a few seconds for you to realize just what he exactly said. Stopping dead in your tracks you turned towards Will, a flabbergasted look on your face. You felt the hair at the back of your hair stand up as the wind picked up, the leaves around you going in every direction, a warning of what was potentially to come.

Suddenly, the sound of loud and absurd laughter came bursting out of him, you soon following suit. It was borderline manic as he held your hand in his own, but being so lost in the sweet comfort of earlier you chose to not think about his worrying statement. Most horror enthusiasts were a little quirky anyway, Will was probably like that too.

And just like that, you parted ways for the evening, both parties promising to get in touch as soon as possible.

The walk home was swift as each step made you feel like a silly schoolgirl who just had her first kiss.

It was just so refreshing, like gentle rainy dew on a hot day.

Making your way back home, you fumbled with the keys inside your bag and opened the door with lightning speed. Kicking off your shoes and tossing the purse on the bed, you grabbed your phone and the piece of paper, pondering on the thought of whether you should just save his number or not. You were clearly going to be seeing him for a while, so -

Ding!

The text message was so sudden that you almost threw your phone on the ground. One mini heart attack later, you saw that the string of numbers were the same ones from before, so you quickly opened the message.

"What's your favorite scary movie ;))"

You snorted. He was so cheesy but damn it all if it wasn't cute.

"I like Scream a lot, if that makes you happy :D"

It took him a few minutes to respond.

"Good choice. But, personally, I'd really like to make my own scary movie with you... I could make you the main star."

Oh... Well. You're not sure how to respond to that. You stop and think, only for the sudden feeling of unease to come back. You remain still and try to brainstorm a response, but Will is faster.

"What wrong baby? Did I scare you? :)"

Ah. He's really committing to the part, isn't he? The best thing to do would be to just call him out.

"Haha, very funny Will! And no, you did not scare me, I'm just a slow texter!!!!"

Perhaps it was time to call it a night. It's been a rough week and you were not in the mood for these games. Halfway as you were turning away, your phone suddenly rang. You sharply turned your head back, wondering why Will was calling you so late. Perhaps he didn't get social cues? Your discomfort should have been obvious from the get go, but you still decide to pick up. Parting your lips, you started to talk but a male voice interrupted you instead.

"This isn't Will baby. But I'll be more than happy to make you my Sidney Prescott."

All the air was knocked out of your lungs as your eyes bulged so hard out of your head, threatening to pop like cheap balloons.

He was right. That was not Will's voice. The mystery caller cackled, his voice ringing loudly in your ear, the sound almost too painful for your mind.

"Didn't think you'd actually pick up." he continued. "I kept an eye on you all night, and you didn't even see me! Now that baby, is skill! "

He sounded so proud, like a child who just got a high mark on a test, as if he didn't even see just how wrong this whole situation really was. Mustering up the courage, you spoke up:

"Where's Will?"

Silence. The other line was dead silent but the caller didn't end the line.

You really did not like where this was heading.

"And why would you care where he is?" inquired the man, his voice changing from menacing to serious. Your silence spurred him on, making him more mad.

"You're my girl, even if you don't know it yet. I won't have you sweet talkin' with other men."

You let out a shocked scoff and quickly hung up. You smacked the phone against the table as an audible smack! echoed across the room. Crossing your arms close to your chest, you sprawled across the cozy bed with worry on your mind as the heart in your chest beat like crazy, pumping and pumping sheer adrenaline.

Despite all that, you somehow managed to fall asleep.

You didn't even get to see the last text the creepy caller had sent.

"I'll make you my girl, even if it's the last thing I ever do."

That was not a threat. But rather, a promise.

[lovelywritinglady]

Strangers (Part.2)

Reiner Braun xfem!reader

Three years later and you finally meet him again. But this time as strangers. Will you reconcile?

Angst, mentions of trauma and death. Reiner has low self worth. Talk of suicide, blood, and violence. Fluff, happy ending…

Reiner’s Pov

It’s been three years to the day since the day I lost her. Every moment I’ve spent has been filled with memories of her. Her scent, touch, and voice fill me with sadness and regret. I need to see her, but she’s so far from me now. The future is so unpredictable now and war has been upon Marley for some time. I wonder what’s she’s doing. What she looks like now and how beautiful she’s gotten.

I stared at the sea, the very one that separates us. Wishing she were here to see what I see. Wishing I were holding her hand here, making her laugh, telling her jokes. But I’m not, and she’s not here. I’m scared I’ll never be able to see her again or hear her sweet voice calling my name.

“Damn it all.” I sighed breathing in the salty sea air. I was trying not to think of her anymore as I could feel tears beginning creep.

I began walking along the docs admiring the markets and people around me. I had no where in particular to go as it was my day off, which was rare. There were so many people out today and I found myself accidentally bumping into a few. My head was fuzzy as I tried to push my emotions back once more. I wasn’t looking where I was going this time and bumped into someone and made them fall to the ground. My thoughts came back to me and I focused on the person I accidentally shoved.

“I’m so sorry are you okay.” I said frantically not looking at their face still. I grabbed their hand as I pulled them up. I locked eyes with them and suddenly the whole world stopped. The very air from my lungs had left me and the tears that I was trying so desperately to hold back were starting to fall. As the very person I have needed, loved, and desired was right in front of me and I had just bumped into her.

“Y/n…”

Your pov

One hour earlier…

We finally docked onto Marley dressed as ordinary people because if even one person caught wind that there were enemies on this island, then all hell would break loose. Truthfully, the only reason we were here was to see the other side of the sea. For me, I came to see him. I needed to, my whole body craved it. I hate him, at least I think I do. I love him, but I know that I shouldn’t. Or should I?

Once we left the boat, we were each given time to explore. Levi instructed us to all meet by the woods by sundown as that’s where we’d be staying. He also suggested to go in pairs, but I was on a mission, one more important than anything else. I needed answers and I needed them from him. One hour later I somehow made it to a market filled with people and things I’d never seen before.

“Damn it all.” I sighed walking through a large crowd.

Despite my mission, I was simply awestruck by these people. Many of different faces than I had seen on my island. They were beautiful and it felt nice seeing so many happy people together. I thought about him walking through these very streets. Had he come here often? Was he even interested in markets? What was he doing now? All of those thought plagued my mine and made me feel hazy. Something shiny caught my eye and I turned to look at it from a distance. However, much to my bad luck, I wasn’t paying attention and got thrown off my feet by what felt like a ox.

“Ouch.” I whispered feeling the wind leaving my lungs slightly.

“I’m so sorry are you okay?” The rather familiar voice spoke out in concern.

And just as I was about to respond the figure grabbed my hand and began pulling me to my feet. Once I was balanced, I looked up. Shock waves shot through my body as the very persons I had sought out was right in front of me. The person I loved more than anything was right in front of me more handsome than he was when I lost him…

“Reiner?”

Reiner pov

“Y/n.” I whispered. “Are you real?” I asked not truly believing the breathtaking sight in front of me.

“I hope so.” She responded giving me a smile.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly 

“Hi.” She whispered

“How… how are you?” I asked her after a few moments of simply staring at the woman I loved.

“Relieved.” She replied as a year left her eye.

“Me too.” I admitted. “Y/n, you’re so beautiful.” I whispered breathlessly losing myself in her magical eyes.

“Thank you.” She whimpered as more tears left her.

“Here, please.” I told her as I reached into my coat pocket, taking out a clean handkerchief and handing it to her. As I did, our hands brushed slightly making me let go of a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding.

“Oh thank you.” She said quickly as she wiped her tears.

“Wanna go somewhere more private?” I asked her hoping she’d say yes.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t try anything mister.” Y/n joked chuckling a bit as I laughed too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” I joked back.

“I hope so.” She spoke in a hushed whisper and I could tell she meant to say that to herself so I didn’t respond back.

“I have a good spot on the beach that should be pretty private.” I told her.

“Do you take all of your girls there?” She joked nudging my shoulder slightly. I missed this. I missed her. I just hope that I can find the perfect words to say to her.

“Nah, just you.” I replied seriously looking at her for a moment as we walked side my side to the beach.

“Good.” She smiled

After a few moments of walking and small talk, we made it to my spot. I helped her down to this small cave that most locals didn’t bother going to as it wasn’t as exciting as the rest of Marley. It was a peaceful little cave that was about 6 feet wide and 10 feet long. At the very end of it, you could see the water rising and falling. The sounds of the waves crashing echoed through the spot making a private conversation possible.

“It’s beautiful here. Good spot there Reiner.” She complimented looking around the sea cave. “As beautiful as it is, I need to speak to you about not so pretty things. But I think you know that.” She told me seriously looking straight into my eyes.

“I agree. What do you want to speak about. I promise to tell you anything you’d like to know.” I reassured her.

“Who are you?” She asked simply.

No one’s pov

“My name is Reiner Braun. I’m a warrior of Marley and I’m the holder of the armored titan.” Reiner replied seriously as he stood to the wall of the cave.

“Is see. Who else are you?” You questioned him trying to assess him.

Reiner stilled for a moment trying to decipher the right words to say and what you meant in that very moment.

‘Who am I?’ Reiner thought to himself

The two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, but was really just a few minutes. Reiner had forced himself into an internal conflict with himself at your question. He hasn’t really given who he really was much thought for a long time. He thought he knew, he thought that after the battle at Wall Maria, that he knew who he was. However, with you standing right in front of him after so many years apart, he began questioning everything once again. He took a deep breath letting the salty sea air fill his lungs. He then looked into your eyes giving you a pained, but loving look as the words he needed finally came to him.

“Y/n… I’m not just Reiner Braun, Warrior of Marley. I’m also…” Reiner paused for a moment. “I’m also a man so desperately and completely still and utterly in love with the woman who stands in front of me. And with everything that I have and everything that I am. I’m so sorry for everything that I put you through on your island. For every death, every shitty memory you have because of me, for all of the people I’ve hurt. All I want is to die because of it I know I deserve to suffer for all f the shit I pot you and everyone else through. But I’m not sorry for falling in love with you. For wanting to be with you and for all of the years that I’ve spent missing you.” Reiner admitted as he began sobbing at all of the memories that he had.

“Reiner…” you sighed fresh tears beginning to spill. You couldn’t think of what to say as the confession that you wanted to hear but weren’t sure you are going to receive was just announced by him.

All you could do in that very moment was warp yourself around him. All you could think was to hold him. Your anger was overlooked my your intense love for this man, for Reiner Braun. You held him so tightly against you not wanting to let him slip away once again. You felt him stiffen slightly but hold you just as tightly. You felt him nuzzle into your hair.

“Oh Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I love you.” He spoke desperately feeling free that he was able to tell you the words he’s been waiting years to finally say once more.

“I missed you.” You admitted feeling anxious about saying it back but knowing you needed to. You turned your head up looking into his honey colored eyes and finally spoke the words that you were needing to say. “I love you too. I never stopped.” You told him still holding onto his muscular body.

“Good.” He whispered giving your forehead a affectionate kiss.

“You really hurt me though Reiner and despite the years apart, I’m still hurt.” You said feeling the pain you had felt for the last three years come back however a little less this time.

“I know, and I understand if it will take you time. Just know that I’ll wait as long as you want because you’re worth everything y/n.” Reiner says holding you against him once more.

“Thank you, I think I might have to go soon. But please let me stay here for a little while longer.” You pleated.

“Darling, you can stay here until time itself comes to an end.” Reiner spoke seriously

“Good, because I never want this feeling to end. And I promise you will see me again.” You said kissing his chest.

“I’m looking forward to it, Y/n…”

Thank you so much for reading💜This is the last part of this. Although I might and a prequel to this short series about how these two met and how they feel in love.

@dressycobra7

Please click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment,follow, request, and reblog.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[pagannatural]

2.09 Croatoan

-my beloved

-The brothers go to Oregon because Sam has a vision of Dean shooting someone who pleads for his life.

-Sam thinks Dean is violent and out of control because of his grief but he’s actually violent and out of control because he’s losing his mind over Sam.

-Sam looks very Scared Little Brother when they realize the town has no phone signal. He stands really close to Dean. Sam is right. I forgot how scary this episode is.

-Sam hesitates to kill the son who had the mom tied up, and Dean berates him. Dean calls the son a “monster” and Sam says “it was a kid.” Dean likes a clean line between monster and human.

-Sam is always the one who comforts the victims and tells people everything will be okay, another way in which his role in the relationship is traditionally feminine. He’s the one women find non-threatening. (And he’s too distracted by Dean to be attracted to them).

-When the mom, Beverly, says “one minute they were my husband and my son and the next they had the devil in them” the camera cuts to Sam and Dean. This line could be Dean describing a blood-drinking Sam: one minute he was my husband and my son and the next he had the devil in him.

-One of the armed men blocking the road out of town asks Dean to get out of the car to “talk a little,” and Dean says “you are a handsome devil but I don’t swing that way, sorry.” It’s easy to forget that in the early 2000s, this kind of throwaway joke on network tv didn’t usually hint at a character’s hidden sexuality, it was just a vaguely biphobic little joke. But I do think there’s a reason it’s here.

The Croatoan virus is a demonic virus spread from blood infection that’s not visible just by looking at someone. So we have a little AIDS parallel. It’s also a similar concept to Sam’s demon blood. His blood represents choice and sin and the human mixed with the monstrous. Blood is also associated with family.

Incest and queerness are taboos that have often been conflated in fiction (and in history), and both have been strongly associated with monstrosity—think predatory sexuality, birth defects, infertility, rejection of the natural order. A desire that’s dangerous and wrong and destructive, that must stay hidden and can only survive in the shadows. The homoerotic incestuous monster hunters are the perfect storm of gothic queer horror.

Whether or not either brother is queer doesn’t affect the plot, and isn’t the point. I can see Dean grappling with being in love with Sam without questioning his sexuality at all. Sam is a category unto himself to Dean, and Sam doesn’t appear bothered about his sexuality aside from his feelings about Dean. But the confluence of these taboos—incest and queerness—with blood is central to the plot of the show and the question of what evil is. Really their love for each other and their shared blood is what saves them, keeps them human.

-Another of my absolute favorite underrated wincest moments is when Beverly is begging for her life from the utility room and Dean asks Sam “are you sure she’s one of them?” Sam barely nods and it’s enough for Dean to shoot her three times point blank. He doesn’t need any more information, just for Sam to nod slightly.

-Sam suggests that they need to leave to warn others of the virus and Dean tells him he has a good point. They respect each other’s input and work together well.

-Duane shows up and the situation becomes very tense. Sam is standing with his whole body facing Dean. In moments of extreme stress, Sam often seeks Dean’s protection rather than focusing on the threat.

-Dean has a gun on Duane with some urgency but Sam says “I gotta talk to you—now” and Dean leaves the room with him immediately.

Sam argues that they should wait and not kill Duane in case he isn’t infected. Dean says “what’s that buy us?”

“A clear conscience, for one.”

“Well it’s too late for that.” Is Dean talking about his guilt over John’s death? Or is this more about his general self hatred around never being enough to be everything for everyone, to give Sam everything that he needs and be the perfect son and soldier and brother and father and mother?

Sam tells him “you don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean. You’re acting like one of those things out there.” Dean does feel lost. He needs Sam to save him so that he can save Sam.

-Sam is so devoted to Dean this season. He spent season 1 gradually giving into his complete trust and commitment to Dean and now he’s been losing him or at risk of losing him in different ways all season. He fights tooth and nail for Dean every step of the way to get him to listen, to talk, to come back to him.

-Dean pushes Sam out of the way and locks him out, aiming to kill Duane. He says “it’s not him, not any more” and “I’ve got no choice.” But then Dean decides not to shoot him.

-When the doctor asks if it’s alright to untie Duane, Dean and Sam seem to have a wordless conversation in which Dean defers to Sam’s judgement, and Sam tells the doctor it’s okay to untie him.

-Sam is Dean’s morality. Dean is submitting to Sam, needing him to help him make the right choice. By doing this he’s also believing in Sam’s ability to stay good.

-Sam says about Dean not killing Duane “you know I’m gonna ask you why.”

Dean replies “yeah I know,” not looking up, focusing on keeping his hands busy making Molotov cocktails.

“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”

Dean looks at Sam with his chin tucked, like it’s hard to meet his eyes. He doesn’t answer. He clears his throat and says “we need more alcohol,” basically asking Sam to leave for a moment so that he can pull it together. He gazes after Sam with this raw, shamed look.

It’s the first of two parallels in this episode to their conversation in 1.19 where Sam says his reticence to date is mostly not about Jessica, and Dean asks “then what is it about?” and Sam just looks at him, implying heavily that it’s about Dean.

The question Dean was asking Sam there was essentially, Why can’t you love anyone else?

The first question Sam asks Dean is why he didn’t kill someone, but it’s also why Dean wants to do the right thing and not lose himself, and the answer is because of Sam.

-After Sam is attacked, he reaches for Dean’s hand to help him up off the floor and then just leaves his hand outstretched after Sarge holds Dean back and tells him Sam is infected. It’s like his muscle memory of reach-out-hand, Dean-pulls-me-up hasn’t caught on.

-The whole time Dean argues with the others about Sam, Sam only looks at the floor or at Dean. He’s not watching the conversation, he’s watching Dean because he’s scared and he looks to Dean when he’s scared.

-Dean says “no one’s shooting my brother”

He’s so protective. He was about to kill someone who might be infected just in case, but when it’s Sam he would simply rather die in a murder suicide and that’s that on that.

-Sam asks for the gun so that he can shoot himself, saying “I’m not gonna become one of those things.” This episode is pure foreshadowing for the end of s5. Sam refuses to become a monster, Dean chooses to stand by him and die rather than kill him. Because of their faith in each other, because they waited, things work out.

-Dean hands over the keys to the impala. He’s not fucking around. He tells the doctor “oh actually we’re not really marshals.” He’s in a truth telling mood, fuck it.

-Sam asks Dean to leave him and keep living, looking at him with incredulity and gratitude and love and fear.

Dean leaving him alone to die or become a monster would fulfill Sam’s deepest fear—left behind, not belonging, because something is wrong with him. But he still asks Dean to go, he throws a fit, he tells him “this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” It reminds me of that scene from Titanic, Jack telling Rose “you’re so stupid” for staying with him instead of saving herself.

He says “it’s over for me, it doesn’t have to be for you.”

“No?”

“No. You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?”

This scene is so dramatic and romantic. Close shots of their faces, Sam looking up at Dean with his eyes full of tears, begging him. Dean tells Sam he doesn’t want to go on without him.

Sam asks, what?

For a moment it almost looks like he’s taking this as the confession that it is, before Dean puts some distance between them and leans against the wall. This is the second scene is this episode to parallel their conversation in 1.19, this time even more closely.

Sam thinks Dean doesn’t want to go on because their dad died, but Dean says “you’re wrong. It’s not about dad. I mean part of it is, sure, but-“

Sam interrupts to ask “then what is it about?” and Dean gives him this look,

this look of love and tenderness, like he’s willing Sam to understand.

This time Sam’s question is Why don’t you want to live? And the answer is that Dean doesn’t want to live without Sam.

I love how this scene makes clear that Sam’s romantic partners compare directly to Dean. It confirms what Sam was thinking about in 1.19, because for these scenes to rhyme they must have been thinking about each other.

-The brothers share a romantic beer at the lake. Sam asks Dean what he was talking about last night in a way that honest-to-god sounds like he’s referring to pillow talk. Dean doesn’t want to tell so Sam keeps pushing, but their tones are teasing and light. They really sound like they’re flirting. Dean suggests that they go to the Grand Canyon.

Sam keeps questioning him, gentle but insistent, as Dean talks about taking a break.

-Where is our Grand Canyon episode?

-Sam looks so scared when Dean says John told him something about Sam before he died. I wonder what’s running through his head. There’s this feeling that people with Sam’s negative core belief often get, which is a fear that something is deeply wrong or rotten in them and that eventually other people will find out. He’s probably thinking that’s finally happened.