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im sorry but you will NEVER convince me that fics w dead dove / rape / pedophilia / incest etc is normal or in tandem w personal preference. it is very clearly fetish content that perverts within fandoms use to justify their degeneracy bc tell me why there r rapist!character headcanons???? like these people are obv making this content for weirdos to jerk off to and it kills me that this is so normalized within fandoms bc its “just content”, it’s always deeper than that and you’re just using fiction as an outlet so you don’t go to jail, you all should be put on a list
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imagine losing your memory and remembering your online friend as a bubbly, obnoxious teenaged girl and then you meet her after healing and she’s a traumatized 30-year old covered in eldritch scars taking 500 different supplements a day to recover from some unknown injury that makes everyone uncomfortable to talk about
she can’t hold knives without having a panic attack and whispering about demons and cabins and the afterlife
she’s always spinning an engagement ring around her finger. you don’t know she was engaged. she never introduces you to her fiancée and you wonder if he even exists. your sister tells you that there’s no photos on her walls, only sun-bleached squares where photos once hung. you wouldn’t have been able to see them anyway
this is definitely not the girl you met online, something has happened to her. something demonic, something divine.
Robert secretly believes that loving him is a liability. That anyone close to him is automatically in danger. There are nights where he lies awake beside Flambae, staring at the ceiling, convincing himself that the safest thing he could do for him is to leave.
He never does, but the thought never fully goes away. Flambae senses the distance when it creeps in and doesn’t understand why Robert suddenly pulls back when nothing is wrong.
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Cw;; slight angst , no fluff/comfort , slight unrequited love , mentions of cm cases , mentions of explosions
not very long, more of a drabble fic
Masterlist 🍂
Cheerful music filled the air, the outside of David Rossi's house- the large backyard- was decorated in pretty white fairy lights, chairs, and various other furniture and decor items that gave it the impromptu wedding vibe, truly fitting the evenings event; after the whole card faced bank heist fiasco the team had set up a wedding for their friends- Will and JJ.
Emily knew it was selfish of her to have a bitter envious feeling bubble in the pit of her stomach, her heart squeezing in pain as she watched JJ when she'd walked down the makeshift wedding aisle- as she watched the two share on the spot vows while David officiated- as she watched them kiss. It hurt, she knew she had no valid reason to be upset, no real reason at least.
The brunette blinked away the fuzzy sting of salt water from her eyes, lips pulled into a bittersweet smile, brows knit together as she put her best happy face on, Emily knew her feelings for JJ hadn't been returned- she had for a long time, always being a step behind the blonde and her availability, always having something else come up.
She could barely stomach watching the woman she'd had feelings for- for years- get married to someone else, she knew Jennifer, she knew the woman loved Will, but she couldn't help but feel like it was forced, maybe it was wishful thinking but the woman always seemed less interested in men than Emily thought- though she didn't expect to be right, she knew she'd probably be wrong, and that it was selfish of her to hope she was right.
But she couldn't ignore the melancholic expression that'd pass Jennifer's face whenever they'd get a case involving the unaccepted, involving those who've runaway from their less than accepting families, as if she knew how they'd felt, she took a big sip of the beverage in her champagne flute, her lipstick staining the rim, everyone was mingling- dancing, having the time of their lives, while she was left standing by a miscellaneous table, her floral dress making her feel out of place on the side lines, she could never fall for the right person.
She wondered what JJ would think, waking up in the middle of the night, would she be happy?, Would she feel like nothing more than Will's wife?, Would she feel loved?, Oh God Emily hoped, prayed that Jennifer would feel nothing but loved.
It was nearing the time for toasts, of course the wedding festivities were probably out of place; but it was last minute and planned the day before. And no one really seemed to care too much.
Emily- JJ's maid of honor- was stood beside a table as they'd all gotten ready for dinner and drinks, she tapped her fork against her glass carefully. "Attention- Oh God this feels like getting called on by a teacher," she laughed nervously, clearing her throat before holding her champagne flute with two hands, fiddling with the stem. "As you all know, we're here to celebrate the undoubtedly beautiful wedding of Jennifer and William," She'd begun.
"And Will, you're a great guy- but I'm here to talk about your wife, who's objectively greater," Her tone held a hint of humor, earning a few laughs. "Jennifer, I've known you for- years now, honestly it's been so long it feels like a life time," She continued, tone reminiscent. "You are, the most intelligent, beautiful woman that I have ever met. And I'm honestly not surprised you found someone who thinks the same, it'd be hard to think of you as anything less than the best." Emily spoke, eyes watering slightly. "You are ..my best friend-" She paused, voice cracking. "And I adore you, you mean everything to me- to the team, what I'm trying to say is you'll always have a second family with the BAU, Good luck JJ, and if Will fucks up let me know, I'm a great shot." She laughed at the end, earning a chorus of laughter from the others, lowering herself to sit again Emily cleared her throat. Drinking whatever was left of her champagne, locking eyes with the blonde woman dressed in white who sat halfway across the table, the two sharing a look only they could truly understand.
Emily loved Jennifer, but she knew Jennifer would always slip from her hands when she'd get too close, like sand in an hour glass.
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