#they find getting rest regularly helps them to keep their wits about them on cases

[leahaart]

Eeepy boys

[wonlouvre]

more for forever | k. mg.

pairing: editor-in-chief mingyu x female reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, cliché (in the sense that mingyu is rich and likes to spoil his girlfriend) warnings: mentions of insecurity, food word count: 2.8k

💌: this is just pure indulgence and i really hope you all like this! please wait for wonwoo because i have something in store for him too ;) again, this is cliché please forgive me. please tell me what you think about it hehe i love reading your comments, feedbacks and tags! also a big thank you to @minkwans​ for sharing their ideas and giving this oneshot life! <3

The name Kim Mingyu didn’t ring a bell before. Not until his executive assistant reached out to you because apparently, the photographer slash writer read one of your blog posts and wanted you to take part for their sixth year anniversary issue. You know the famous magazine and publishing company, which is why you thought it was a scam or a ploy to steal your money. It’s a stupid assumption but you can’t blame your mind imagining the worse because you are not a fashion blogger at all. Why would a fashion magazine want you to write an article for them?

Sure, you regularly write and post blog entries on your website. But you write about your dog, your recently bought tea coaster and sometimes your skincare routine. Okay, maybe your occasional outfit of the day as well but nothing in detail. Again, why do they want you to write for them?

Kim Mingyu answered your questions and uncertainties when he personally emailed his contact details to you. You didn’t have to bite, but it didn’t hurt to confirm at the same time. You dialed the number and he indeed proved you wrong. He invited you for a meeting at his office and you accepted. 

Your visits to high-rise buildings, much more to the luxurious office of an executive, is rare to never. You were jaw slacked when your eyes took in the crisp architecture. The design, the furniture, the color, the everything was beyond what you could have imagined a publishing company’s headquarters could be. 

The meeting was nothing but short of an interview. He asked about your blog (which does not even have its own domain by the way), he asked what else you write about, he asked about your desk job (which doesn’t pay much but enough for you to get by), he asked if you have any background about fashion and one last question about your dog, Max, before talking about his proposal. 

To be honest, Mingyu’s offer was tempting. For one article, the commission would be enough for you to move out of your current apartment and move to a brand new and fully-furnished one. But you remained true to yourself and without thinking twice, you declined. 

You can tell that the editor-in-chief and his assistant, who stood beside him all throughout, was surprised by the looks on their faces. But Mingyu respected your decision and didn’t pursue any further. You took your stand from the chair and sincerely thanked him for the time and opportunity. You thought that would be it but when he followed suit with your actions and reached his hand out, it was your turn to be surprised. 

You didn’t hesitate to mirror him and shake his hand, firmly. After that, you’d figure that it’s the end and that you’ll probably get to see a glimpse of him only through your television or phone. But Mingyu proved you wrong once again when he sent an unexpected email three days later asking why.

What might be the reason why you didn’t accept his offer? 

You believed he deserved an explanation of your personal reasons so you disclosed them. And just like that the conversation on that email thread naturally progressed and eventually deepened. The professional emails became casual text messages, the text messages became phone calls, and the phone calls became actual face to face dates at late hours of the evening because he usually clocks out at 9 o’clock. 

The rest, as they say, was in the hands of history. 

Your first date with Mingyu was particularly odd. It was at a traditional Korean restaurant owned by one of his friends who introduced himself as Angel even though his real name is Jeonghan. You didn’t question him or anyone else why because that’s none of your business. But back to the date. It was odd because you have never been to a restaurant that’s completely empty and dead silent before (aside of course, from the typical music played in the background). You asked Mingyu if such an occurrence is normal and he just plainly answered that he rented the whole place all to yourselves. You have always known he’s rich. However, you didn’t believe that booking the whole restaurant was necessary.  

Nonetheless, that first date, in some way, was special for you because there were no distractions. You enjoyed his company and you can tell he enjoyed yours too because he’s quick to mention a second date and it didn’t take a heartbeat for you to say yes. 

But, by far, Mingyu inviting you to the behind the scenes of the making of the sixth anniversary issue that you turned down writing for is one of the most memorable dates the two of you had. It was out of the blue and you two were having difficulty in syncing your schedules. He was beginning to get busier and busier as the anniversary neared and the only way he could think of still making time for you is inviting you to his office. He called you and asked if you’re free to have lunch together. And you, being attracted to the handsome and tall man, didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

He was in the middle of ending his morning meeting when you arrived and you were almost caught off-guard when all eyes were suddenly on you, making you feel small. But Mingyu didn't care as his smile beamed, immediately standing up from his chair to walk towards you. The rest of his staff were still in the midst of walking out of his office when he grasped your hand to pull you inside and you have never felt so shy your whole life.

Since then, he made you tag along to the creative process and you witnessed how hands on he was with every article, every photo, every brand, every trend and every detail that goes to the magazine that he has built and loved with his blood, sweat and tears. He’s beyond dedicated in finding and doing what’s best for the magazine and most importantly, its loyal readers. 

You can tell that he really is deserving of everything that he has and is still receiving.

Mingyu being perfect also applies to your relationship. He’s always present despite being booked with fittings, meetings, photoshoots and business travels twenty-nine days of the month. He never fails to call, never fails to answer your calls. He never fails to offer the warmest hugs and the softest kisses. Well, he fails to be on time during your dates sometimes but he never once stood you up and his cuddles when he sleeps over are enough to apologize for the lost time.

The only flaw he has is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Most especially at times where he wants to shower his love in ways that cost more than your paycheck in a year.

Here are some examples:

You know that Mingyu pays attention to every word you say. Even if you just mentioned a passing topic, he will do his best to keep those in mind. With that being said, you mentioned once that you want to renovate the extra bedroom of your apartment and turn it into a study where you could work someday. Your boyfriend, being the rich man he is, offered to hire and pay a team that could help you bring the design you envisioned into life. 

That was during the first few months of your relationship and you were flabbergasted by how easy it was for him to do or much less say. Needless to say, you immediately turned him down and he respected that (but of course, he pouted about it like a child all throughout the day). 

But wait, there’s more. 

Do you remember how you mentioned that Mingyu travels frequently? Yes? Well, Mingyu always books an extra ticket for you just in case you want to join him. Sometimes it’s not even about the flight ticket anymore. It’s about him stopping by your apartment to pick you up unexpectedly as if France is only a drive away. 

It’s unbelievable, really. That’s why you always close the door on his face. But of course, you don’t forget to give him a long kiss and “stay safe” or “I’ll miss you” farewell. Mingyu, ever the good boy he is, lets you win and just return your kisses a little longer for the days he won’t be able to do so. 

Mingyu’s intentions are pure and you’re well aware that the man that you love is only doing this because it’s simple, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you, he wants to give you what you deserve. You can never blame him for being out of touch from reality at times, but you can learn and grow with him. Although of course, he still needs a scolding and a wake up call every now and then. 

Anything else? Yes.

You didn’t take into consideration that he’d remember, but one night while the two of you were about to fall asleep, you sleepily mumbled about your dreams of attending graduate school. It was a mere whisper in the late night against his chest and you even thought that he wouldn’t hear you at all because his eyes were already closed. You honestly didn’t expect that he’d send you brochures of different universities who offer various programs the following day. You had to calm him down as he excitedly talked you through it. You even had to shut him up with your lips and explain that you don’t have the time to study at the moment with your current job. He tried to encourage you with praises and admiration of your dedication, skills and knowledge. But no, you didn’t buy it and that’s the end of discussion. 

The gifts, however, are something that Mingyu is not giving up on. The first few instances he gave you gifts whether it be a high-end handbag, shoes, clothing, and even jewelry, you allowed him. Because there were only a few. But along the way, the gifts got bigger and more frequent. You had to sit him down to set limitations. It was a long conversation of him trying to get the upper hand. But you didn’t let him outsmart you with his hugs and kisses. It was either he was going to tone it down with the gifts or no gifts at all. 

Sometimes, as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you can’t avoid getting insecure and afraid that the euphoric time you share with Mingyu is not meant to last. At some point, the fact that he's one of the youngest successful editor-in-chiefs of a multi-million earning magazine got overwhelming. You can’t help but feel that you’re no match for him. And again, you hate that your mind gets clouded with ideas that you’re just a charity case he enjoys spending his money on. Of course, you believe that he doesn’t look at you in that way.

It’s you who thinks so. 

“Hey.”

You release the bite on your bottom lip at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Your lost eyes shoot to the stove where he’s cooking and you notice that he’s about done so you should set the table. 

You didn’t even answer Mingyu’s call which concerns him. He wipes the sauce off his hands on the apron he’s wearing and holds your waist before you could even round the corner to the cabinets. 

His warmth snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyes blink up to him and he just raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Is there something wrong?” He asks and lowers the heat of the conduction. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you lie, shaking your head, “Let me get the plates. I’m quite hungry.”

You try escaping his strong arms and gaze, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist tighter. Your palms automatically land on his chest and the lean muscles make you gulp. 

“I’m going to ask again and this time, I want you to tell me the truth,” he says in a serious yet gentle tone. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh and lean your forehead against his chest. Mingyu also sighs and kisses the top of your head. It’s better to tell him now because you’re not going to get anywhere if you’re just going to keep it to yourself. It will be unfair for him too and that’s not what you want. 

“I just don’t feel so good about myself over the past few days,” you finally voice out. You sound weak, but Mingyu can hear you loud and clear. “I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Mingyu had to pull away and hold your shoulders to search your eyes, his frown showing disbelief and sadness both at the same time. “Did I do or say something to make you feel this way?”

“No, no,” you quickly say and hold his cheeks. “You did absolutely nothing. It’s just all in my head.”

Mingyu becomes silent and you wish you could just drop it because the regret and embarrassment is slowly dawning upon you. You wish you didn’t bring it up anymore because why would you burden him with your problems? 

But Mingyu proves you wrong once again by holding your hand and carefully tugging you to sit on the dining table, saying softly, “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

And talk you did. You let out your concerns, worries, fears and insecurities. You bore it all without hiding or masking anything. A tear or two slipped once or twice and some words were interrupted by your hiccups, but Mingyu was patient. He listened and held your hand, promising you that it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of him. It’s okay to trust him because he loves you. 

Mingyu loves you and his words and actions assure you that it’s okay to love him too. 

When there were no more words left to say, the two of you shared a comfortable silence. The weight on your shoulders and the sick feeling in your stomach immediately vanished and you have never felt so relieved. You have never felt so free and loved. You can’t believe that Kim Mingyu is real. 

“I know that this is unwarranted,” Mingyu breaks the silence after a while, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you in any of those ways. To me, you’re the person I love and I am happy with regardless of our different upbringings, different jobs. Those don’t matter to the time and love we share together.”

“I know,” you affirm and kiss his cheek. 

Mingyu nods and smiles against the palm of your hand when a memory suddenly pops in his mind. “I’m not sure if I have told you this already. But the blog entry of yours that caught my attention is about your first ever blog post.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You have never heard of this before. “You mean the one where I talked about why I love writing so much?”

Your boyfriend smiles and nods. “That one.”

“Gosh. That’s so embarrassing,” you groan and palm your face. 

“What do you mean embarrassing?” He argues, taking your hand to hold again. “That post was one of the most genuine posts that I have ever read. You explained, word by word, your passion, love and dedication to writing in the most honest way possible. Who wouldn’t be moved?”

You pout and unbeknownst to you, that makes his heart squeeze in adoration. 

“It’s not that special,” you mumble, eyes on your intertwined hands. 

“It is to me though.”

Mingyu’s eyes are dreamy and glossy as you meet them again and you could never be more in love. He holds your arms, coaxing you to stand up to straddle his lap. You giggle when he protectively wraps his arms around your waist. His nose scrunches when it grazes yours, but upon meeting his lips you feel it exhale a breath of relief.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. But when Max barks at the two of you, reminding you of the dinner you’re supposed to eat and share with him, the two of you burst into laughter before reluctantly detaching from each other. 

“You doting over me with material things is a perk,” you humor him and he gives you his signature giggle. “But, I wouldn’t trade sharing the same bed, cooking meals or taking care of Max together over any of those.” 

Mingyu nods gives you one last yet long kiss, a promise that there’s more for later. 

More for forever. 

---

a/n 2: this was supposed to be the header/poster of this story but it was too big lol

[letarasstuff]

"I don't wanna leave you, Daddy"

(A/N): This was requested by an Anon and it's based on this concept. I hope you are ready for the feels.

Summary: Hotch's daughter is an introvert. A quiet one. But why does she go even quieter after her mother's death?

Warnings: So much hurt. Angst. Fluff. It's bitter sweet.

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

(Y/N) never really was an outgoing person. Even since she was able to walk and talk, she still clung to her parents. She refused to play on the playground when other children were there. Socializing was just not her thing. Her parents were sure that she would never be the person to stand up and perform on stage spontaneously. And it is ok.

This doesn’t really change when Jack comes around. Sure, as he grows older and more capable of things (Y/N) plays with him. But it really seems like he is the only one around her age she is not afraid to befriend.

Aaron and Haley reassure themselves that their daughter will find friends in elementary school. After all this is an institution where many children go to and there also are adults trained for helping them coming along. She definitely will find at least one other kid to hang out with regularly and learn how to be a proper child. Because as of right now (Y/N) is more like a little adult, taking responsibilities, like watching over her little brother, she doesn’t need to do voluntarily. Maybe she will be more messy, rebellious, anything but a perfect child.

But this doesn’t exactly happen. (Y/N)’s teachers are really happy with her. Every parent-teacher conference is about how well and polite she is, always behaving good and following the rules. Sadly, they don’t have any good news regarding her social life. It’s not that she doesn’t get along with her classmates, it’s just that she isn’t able to strike up a conversation or is very good at keeping one long enough that a kid is interested in her.

Knowing that (Y/N) is mostly quiet in her school days, Aaron makes it a habit to bring her more often to the office. She surprisingly warms quickly up to his team and whenever she is around them the girl is an unstoppable tornado running loose around the bullpen.

This is kind of how she grows up until the age of middle school. (Y/N) learns some social skills and makes a few friends over the last few years. Unfortunately these friendships are not as deep as the parents wish, still it’s better than nothing.

Things get difficult when Aaron and Haley start to separate. It never is easy when parents fall out of love and it is not only difficult for Jack to see his father not as often as he used to, considering he still is a toddler needing both parents. Especially (Y/N), who is more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, suffers from the situation at home.

Of course it’s hard on her to not see her father for a week or two at a time, but ever since her parents are going on parted ways she sees him at most one weekend every three weeks. This also changes her social life dramastically.

“(Y/N), don’t you wanna do something with your friends? You can invite them over for the weekend”, Haley suggests after watching her daughter not going out with somebody outside of school for several days. For the past two weeks the ten year old just comes home, does her homework and puts her nose in one of the books her Uncle Spencer recommended.

The girl only looks up at her mother to shake her head. “Why not, Sweetie? I haven’t seen William and John in so long. Are you still friends with them?” (Y/N) nods again. “So what is it? Are you guys fighting?” Haley sits down next to her on her bed.

“No, they just-just don’t know about this. I don’t want to tell them. And I want to stay home. It’s ok how it is right now”, she admits. Her mother’s heart breaks at that statement.

In this moment she realizes that anything a parent does has immediate consequences for the children. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t know this is so hard for you. Maybe you can talk to them over the next few days about it, I think it’ll help you. Do you want to watch a film with me for now? Jack has a sleepover at a friend’s. We can do a girl’s night. We hadn’t had one in a long time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes light up at that. “With all the candy in the world?” Haley smiles at the newfound excitement. “Of course. Anything you want.”

From only seeing Aaron every now and then it suddenly turns to not knowing when she will see him next. After George Foyet ambushes him and makes his family into the next target, (Y/N), her brother and her mother have to go into witness protection.

The goodbye at the hospital is painful and filled with tears. “But Dad, I don’t want to leave you. I’ll miss you too much. I don’t like not seeing you. And what about you? You will be more lonely and-and I can’t leave you”, she confesses, sobbing into him.

Hotch has to hold his own tears back. He doesn’t want to come over as stoic, but as the strong father figure he always tries to be. “Honey, I know I’ll miss you so much. You have to be strong for your mother. This will not be easy and I know it. I promise to do my best to get all of you back as soon as possible, ok? Please be good for your mother and behave. We all need to work together for you to get back fast and safely.”

(Y/N) continues to cry into his hospital gown. Aaron can’t help it and dissolves in tears himself while trying to calm her down. “Shh, Honey. Everything will be fine. I’m so so sorry for all this. I never wanted something like this to happen. Shh, we will see each other real soon. The team and I will do our best. Just please, don’t cry. Please, it all will be better. I can’t let you go without seeing your beautiful laugh for one last time.”

“I don’t wanna leave you, Daddy. I-I wanna stay with you and Uncle Dave and Auntie JJ and Uncle Spencer and Uncle Der and Auntie Penny and Auntie Em. I’m scared you won’t be fine when we come back.”

It’s needless to say that nobody cracked even a smile that day.

Going into witness protection made Haley worry about Jack especially. He is just four years old and she isn’t sure how much he understands about what’s going on. Surprisingly the boy gets accustomed to the situation pretty fast. Of course he misses his father and his people from school, but he is also quick to meet new ones in the town they moved to.

(Y/N) has bigger problems. New school. New kids. New everything.

“Maybe you can see it as a fresh start. Here is nobody you know. You can be whoever you want to be. I can take you shopping and you can try out a new style”, her mother tries to make the situation sound advantageous to her. But the girl dryly answers: “When somebody doesn’t like me how I am now, how will they like an act?”

Sam Kassmeyer regularly reports back to Aaron about his family’s well being. “Jack is thriving. His teachers describe him as a bundle of joy. (Y/N) slowly gets acclimated to the change. Haley told me she started making friends with a girl in their neighborhood. I already ran a background check and the family is clean.”

Hotch lets out a sigh of relief. He turns towards the image on Penelope’s monitor. “Happy fifth birthday, Buddy.”

A few weeks after that it seems like the events overturn each other.

Foyet coming back. Kassmeyer getting tortured. Foyet finding Haley and the children. Them coming back to their house. The call. Working the case with Jack. The gunshot. The fighting noises. Hotch opening the box and hugging both of his children, relieved to see them alive.

The following weeks are difficult for the now smaller family. They mostly consist of watching videos of happy memories and talking about their feelings. Although it’s more like Jack talking about his feelings, (Y/N) went mostly silent ever since their mother’s death. This worries her father more than anything.

Two months have gone by. “Hey Honey, I’m going into the office today. Do you wanna come with me, stay at home or go to school? Anything is fine by me”, he asks her softly, kneeling beside her chair at the table. The girl is munching on her cereal halfheartedly.

“Can I come to the office?” (Y/N) asks in a hoarse voice. It’s actually the first time in four days that Aaron hears her voice. A small smile forms on his face. “Of course, that’s nice. Aunt Penny is asking me after her favorite Hotchner for days on end now. And Uncle Spencer got a stack of books he has for you to read.”

His daughter nods and quickly gets ready. They are soon on their way to Quantico after dropping Jack off at daycare. “How are your classmates? Do you like the new school?” They decided to send (Y/N) to a different school. She couldn’t bear the thought of only being the girl whose Mom died because of a serial killer.

“It’s fine. There are a few girls who are really nice. I think we can be friends. Mo-” She suddenly cuts herself off. Aaron glances over at her. “Continue, Sweetheart. Just tell me what’s on your mind”, he tries to encourage her.

The girl hesitates before following her father’s advice. “Mom would have liked them,” she mumbles. It’s quiet for a few seconds. Hotch is looking for a suitable answer. After all it’s the first time she talked about her mother since her death. “I’m sure of it, Honey. Maybe you can invite them over and I can get to know them. Think about it, no pressure of course.” (Y/N) nods to indicate that she heard him.

Not long later they enter the bullpen. “There she is! My little Hotchner! How you doing, Baby?” Derek asks her and envelopes her into a hug. But she only shrugs her shoulders. This goes on for the rest of the day. Whenever anyone talks to her, the only answer is given by her body language.

Hotch watches helplessly Spencer trying to engage in a conversation with her. His arms and hands are waving around. (Y/N) though just looks at him without being really there mentally. It seems like she is lost in her own thoughts, like it happened so often over the last few months.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” Dave asks, sitting down on the chair opposite of him. Aaron looks at him funny. “Of course. But (Y/N) is just not ready to talk about Haley and everybody grieves differently. I can’t force her to speak, Dave.”

The older agent leans back in his seat. “I don’t think she needs to talk about her. This probably is too soon. She needs to talk about you. The changes.” After a short pause, in which the other one still doesn’t get the point, Rossi continues. “That little girl just lost her mother. She is scared to lose her father, the one with the high risk job. I think that is enough to talk about.”

This occupies the agent for the remainder of the day. Aaron was so invested in fulfilling both parent roles, that he forgot that he is just a father. The man his children go to when they have a nightmare. The one, who is more lenient than their mother. He can’t be both ones. He can’t be two people in one.

A kid trusts a mother and a father usually. And he can’t be mother and father at once. Hotch has to accept the fact. The fact that (Y/N) and Jack are going to grow up without a mother. But luckily not without mother figures.

Later that day, after tucking Jack in, Aaron knocks on his daughter’s door. A small “Come in!” echoes back to him. He enters her room and spots (Y/N) already in her bed reading a book Spencer gave her today.

“Hey, do you have time before it’s lights out?” He asks, still wanting to give her the upper hand on this. The girl nods and scoots over for her father to take a place. He lays next to her, pulling his daughter into a hug.

“I know I can’t promise it. Coming back to you every time. You know it as much as I do. But I promise you to try anything and everything in the books. You guys keep me going.” Tears roll over both of their faces.

“I-I just”, (Y/N) moves her head onto his chest to sob into it, “Just don’t wanna lose you, too. I-I don’t think I-I can’t be the girl, who doesn’t have a mother AND a father. C-can you stop that from happening?” Hotch has to wipe his eyes before answering.

“I-I try to keep that from happening, Honey. I promise.”

This is how they fall asleep, squished in a twin bed close to each other. In the morning they both are overheated and got a visitor during the night. Jack wakes them up, asking why they had a sleepover without him.

This morning is the first time Aaron sees (Y/N) smiles since day zero.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[zwoelffarben]

Hi,

I saw your reblog on the fat-phobia thread and saw you claim to be chronically underweight, which is something i don't hear people talk about because I'm one of those people who has ribs that can be played as a xylophone.

But i feel sad about it.

And seeing you say that being chronically underweight was the worst experience of your life somehow led me to thinking that life must be better if I'm fatter.

I don't even know why I'm writing all this to you i have pending assignments but i just somehow felt comfortable telling you this-

thanks X

I'm always happy when my thoughts on my experience help people, so if I may expound upon them further, I'm pretty sure I've got some flavor of metabolic abnormality where food goes through my body without being fully processed. There's a lot of direct and indirect evidence pointing to that explaination but I've never consulted with a doctor about it, so it's just an observation of how my body appears to work and not a diagnosis.

But in my early life, despite eating twice as much food as everyone else around me, I was just apparently not getting enough real caloric intake for my body to store anything as muscle or fat. As a result:

I was terrible at sports because my body didn't have the energy to build strength or endurence; not matter how much I practiced I did not improve.

I was regularly lethargic, feeling the need for 10~14 hours of sleep or rest a day, which of course I wasn't getting being in a society that expects you to sleep maybe 7-8 hours a day.

I was almost constantly hungry even after eating my meals; and if I ever managed to sate myself, I'd be hungry enough to want to eat again within maybe two hours. I was well-acquanted wit the sensation of slowly starving on a full stomach.

I had no fat anywhere on my body; sure you could see my rib bones and play them like a xylophone, but more importantly, my ass was skin over bone. I could accutely feel the geometry of every seat I sat in; if my ass slid along a metal bleacher my coccyx nestled into the groove like the evergiven in the seuz, and if my ass slid across the metal bleacher, my coccyx hopscotched into every groove while I kept count. It was to say the least, deeply uncomfortable.

I was much more miserable about life back then than I am now, and some of that is owed to the fact that I was a teenager being teenaged. We're pretty much all little balls of angst around that age, but I think my state of being skinner than Death contributed an non-insignificant amount toward making me a particularly pungent ball of angst, yeah?

I'm still a skinny guy, but now I've got some thigh fat, ass fat, belly fat, manboob, and facial fat, and various muscles, and I'm much happier about that being the case than I think I would be if you could still play my ribs like a xylophone.

Anyway, enough about me; let's talk about you.

If I may make a recommendation to you as a stranger on the internet with a degree in creative writing and maths, I'd suggest that if your current weight is making you unhappy or uncomfortable because of how being that weight affects your experience of the world, that you look into having a dicussion with a reputable nutritionist about finding a long-term dietary plan to put and keep on weight, and if you and the nutritionist struggle to find an effective plan to meet your goals, you then look into having a chat with a doctor or specialist about potential underlying causes for your body's demonstrated inability to put on weight.

It's possible that my suggestion isn't something you can do or would want to, since it sounds like a non-zero amount of effort and I don't know if your circumstances even present it as an accessable course of action: I'm just a stranger on the internet with a degree in creative writing and maths.

But, if you're unhappy about how something is affecting you, taking whatever steps you consider practical to addressing the root cause of the unhappiness is generally speaking good praxis. And if I had a do-over with infinite resources I definitely would want to chat with an expert or two about why I could eat two large pizzas and still feel a bit peckish while maintaining my sticc ass despite negative effort.

Food for thought

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[savagetrickster]

Crushing on You (HCs) | BNHA

Request: First of All, i love your navigation its really unique :) Then mhhh what i wanted to request are just some headcanons about shoto (and other characters u like) in which they get really soft zu their crush or s/o, just some fluffy things that come to your mind when u think about it uwu !and dont stress yourself with anseering this request, take ur time! 

anime  |  character(s):   bnha |  todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: thank you anon, it took me a really long time to make my current navigation; glad you liked it! sorry for the delay, i’ve been trying to squeeze in writing time between my work schedules and finally managed to complete this as well. Whew! i expanded a little more on your requests while trying not to go off-track hahah! also, i really want to add more characters but time could allow me to write for these two. hope you like my take on how they would behave regarding their crushes! i kinda rushed through this piece so the sentences may not string well together hahah and there may be some errors; it’s not beta-ed.

How did he find out about his crush on you?

Shouto is as smart as a pile of bricks when it comes to anything that isn’t…well, hero stuff? So when he harbored special feelings for you at the start, he wasn’t aware of that. Completely oblivious and hilariously dense about it.

The first few times his heart raced and his cheeks grew warm in your presence, he didn’t make the connection between these and you. He went to see the doctor thinking there was something wrong with his heart and was the reason why his face would feel warm. Nights before his appointment at the hospital, he couldn’t sleep.

It turned out that everything was fine; his heart is perfectly healthy. So the next thing he thought, making a connection to you - is he allergic to you? Or did you have some sort of secondary quirk you kept secret?

Often, he found his eyes gravitating to you, like you were some kind of magnet. You were the first thought he wakes up to and the last before he went to sleep. There were times he felt oddly possessive of you when you talked with the guys.

Despite all these, none of these made him realize his feelings for you. He passed them off as curiosity since you were the only one who made him feel strange.

He only found out why when he shared his suspicion about you  - is he allergic to you? Or did you have some sort of secondary quirk you kept secret? - with Midoriya, particularly the latter. 

How does Shouto behave around you after his realization? All the years growing up the way he did, having a crush on someone was foreign and bizarre to him. Knowing only quirk-related and hero whatnots with limited social interactions in his maturation years, he was…afraid. Afraid of his own feelings for you. He has no idea what to do and couldn’t face you without accidentally coming off as ‘curt and cold’ to you. He avoided you like you were the plague; he couldn’t help it - he felt like he could combust into flames (lol) from how much you made him blush.

You had always enjoyed Shouto’s company and admired his talents as a hero, sharing an amicable connection with him despite not being in his circle with Midoriya and the rest. You liked him. Liked him too much. 

So when he was suddenly blunt and cold to you + very obviously avoiding you, your heart broke. 

The day you confronted him out of frustration and with a broken heart, he realized how wrong he was to act like this.

>> a short fic based on the paragraphs above is coming soon!

He didn’t want to hurt you because of his own fears. He apologized to you but decided to keep his feelings for you a secret from you - the last thing you two needed a distraction like this when you should be focusing on forging your paths as heroes.

As he promised, he suppressed his feelings and maintained (struggled to) the way he was with you; simply friends.

But he definitely has a soft spot for you. 

He has developed an overprotective streak for you; his eyes were always on you. 

   he’s always the first to react if you were in danger. And if there were any stimulation exercises with the class, he would be adamant about staying near you, asking whoever who is on your team to switch with him (of course, without you knowing)

He is very attentive about what you liked or disliked. Taking notes in his head like it was his duty. 

   there was a time when he overheard a discussion between the girls and you, gushing about the types of clothes you girls like to see on a guy. Taking interest in what you like, he eavesdropped and heard you like pullovers on guys. And on the very next day, he bought himself a few, of course using his Endeavor’s credit card, and wore them as soon as they were ready to worn.

He takes very good care of you and is always concern. Too concerned for a mere friend. He is always there to catch you in case you fall.

menstrual cramps?    one day, he walked into the lounge of Class 1-A dormitory and found you clutching onto your stomach, obviously in discomfort and pain despite already taken a pain killer for your cramps. You desperately needed a heat pad to help ease the shit your uterus had to put you through every month.

at first he had thought about using his fire quirk to help you but quickly scratch that idea because he knew he didn’t have that kind of control to not hurt you by accident. The only solution is to get you a water bottle of warm water which loses its temperature pretty quickly. from then, he made it his goal to obtain superb control over his fire quirk, even to the extent of asking Endeavor for help in refining his control just for you. So that the next month when you had to go through the same pain, he was ready to use his fire quirk to relieve your discomfort.

fever?    shouto caught onto news that you caught a bad cold and were down with a high fever. You laid in the darkness of your room, feeling feverish and your body was burning up. that day, he spent the whole night in your room, tending to you the best he could. Pressed his hand to your burning forehead, ice quirk activated; cool enough to make you sigh but not too cold to freeze you by accident - having only used his ice side growing up, his control is excellent. somehow he ended up holding you, cuddling your feverish head to his body on your bed, regularly activating his ice side to keep his body cool. 

When he thinks about his future after graduation, he always include you. In fact, you are part of a much, much bigger picture in the future he envisioned.

it is in his plan to confess to you after graduation. he already knew enough about you, having paid attention and staying near you throughout after he found out that you were special to him. over time, his crush on you wasn’t as simple anymore. Something stronger and more permanent was beginning to bloom in his heart as he continued to safeguard you and watch over you like a silent guardian.

Get ready to adopt he name ‘Todoroki’ in the future ‘cause he’s pretty determined to take things further with you. First, his girlfriend and of course his wife and the mother of his children. 

How did he find out about his crush on you?

I would like start Bakugou’s part right off the bat by saying that the expression you see in the heading^ made for him is exactly how he would react once he realized he has a crush on you. 

Bakugou here looks like he is in disbelief (as if having such feelings was absurd), bewildered and irked.  Yes, damn right he will be irked. He finds harboring such feelings for you or in fact, anyone unnecessary, ridiculous and stupid. He didn’t have time for such a thing.

Bakugou isn’t as dense as Shouto about this sort of things; if he did find his heart pounding around you, he’s sharp enough to know that you had an effect on him and suspect that he has feelings for you, but this doesn’t mean he is going to acknowledge it. He would dismiss it quickly and move on to more important stuff like his goals.  One day, he grew really jealous and extremely irritated when he saw two seniors hitting on you while he was on his way to class after lunch with Kirishima and Denki. Surprisingly, he handled the situation pretty calmly despite how irritated he is. He walked forward, speeding up ahead of Kirishima and Denki and smoothly tugged you away from the persistent upperclassmen with a firm but gentle grip around your bicep. 

From that incident,  Kirishima and (sorry Kirishima is probably pretty dense about this sort of things but of course no one could beat Shouto in this area lol)  Denki being a rather perceptive guy when it came to matters of the heart, was quick to pick up on Bakugou’s crush on you. Bakugou kind of grudgingly acknowledge his feelings for you that day. Was it because his friends being pushy, constantly teasing him about it? Or was it witnessing that upsetting scene you were in? 

Maybe both? But that did not mean he was going to act on it. He is still pretty stubborn about remaining unbothered about this “useless, pointless sentiment”, quoted Bakugou pretty often to his friends. How does Bakugou behave around you? Bakugou Katsuki is a freaking kuudere - i.e.  a character who is often cold, blunt, and cynical. They may seem very emotionless on the outside, but on the inside they’re very caring — at least when it comes to the ones they love.  Though he deems his feelings for you a “useless, pointless sentiment”, it has become a second nature to him to worry about you regardless of how adamant he is about “not giving a fuck about you” as he had gruffly said to shut his friends up. 

He becomes subtlysoft!Bakugou around you. 

  he is rather toned-down and mature when it comes to you. his explosive (haha) temperament is milder and he exhibits bits of gentlemen traits around you.

  his brash, rough voice softens when he talks to you without him realizing. He is more patient and calmer around you than the rest of his classmates or even his closest friends like Kirishima. he rarely yells at you and addresses you by your name, and not insults he typically used on others e.g. extras, nerd, idiot. 

He is protective.

  he is always quick on his feet in getting you out of sticky situations most of the time. tied to being subtlysoft!Bakugou in my previous point (duh), he demonstrated his ability to be cool-headed and efficient when he got you out of the situation with the two upperclassmen. 

  sometimes if he could in stimulation exercises, he would be try to get you to come along whenever he went on his own way with Kirishima and Denki.

“stay close.” he would mutter in a grudging gruff tone as he bashfully tug you along, away from the rest of the class as we all know he always do in the canon.

He is rather thoughtful and considerate when it’s you.

  once you didn’t turn up for school and he kept glancing over at your empty desk, concerned. he found out that you were down with a bad cold and was being taken care of by Recovery Girl in the infantry. Exams were just two weeks away so he secretly took down notes for you.

When you recovered, he made fun of Kirishima’s “shitty grades” and somehow managed to get Kirishima to start a study session with you included; his main motive was so he could help you catch up without you learning about his true intentions. (kuudere much, Bakugou  -__-)

you are a priority, and eventually a goal as well.

  as bakugou matures alongside you and Class 1A through the years, he will gradually accept that life isn’t only about hero stuff, being number one or putting that stupid nerd Izuku in his fucking place.  (i love midoriya okay, this is just bakugou being bakugou hahah) Or at least he didn’t want his life to be merely about all that. You were also his goal, in fact, one of his biggest goals. He isn’t exactly a big fan of screeching little spawns of the devils but he could live with it if they were part of a future with you.

[schrijverr]

Surprise Hit

On a con Eliot is recognized by someone who has a hit on him and has to run.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: mentions of some mafia dealings

~~~~~~~~~~~

The con went to shit.

This happened often enough with a mark not making the expected choice, a firewall taking longer to crack than anticipated or someone showing up that was not supposed to. It was normal, however the way it went to shit this time was unique. “Nate, I got a problem,” Eliot announced.

“What is it?” Nate asked over the coms. It was an integral part of the plan that Eliot talked to their mark, John Fernsby, and convinced him to meet with Sophie. Nate would have done it, but he had already been the one to go in and convince the billionaire that thebusiness was worth investing in and Hardison was needed to help Parker into the safe. It had to be Eliot.

But Eliot said there was a problem, which was bad. However, it was about to get worse when Eliot answered: “He’s talking with a foreign dignitary, but I know he isn’t. That’s Mikhail Volkov, Russian mob. He has a hit out on me.”

“The fuck, man,” Hardison replied.

“I didn’t pick it either, okay,” Eliot hissed back. “But if he sees me, we’re fucked. Well, I’m fucked and someone has to take my part in the con.”

Hardison had pulled up the camera feed of the gala and watched how Eliot turned away from the mark and tried to leave them room without pulling any attention to himself. He almost managed too, were it not for a serenade band coming in right as he was near the exit.

It was such a stupid little thing that they couldn't have predicted and it was so incredibly ill-timed that Eliot had no room to come up with something. Mikhail turned to the band and saw Eliot, his brow furrowed and he yelled: “Stop that man!” as Eliot started to sprint, multiple people now on his trail.

He pushed over furniture behind him and swerved while a few bullets started to fly around his head, dangerously close. In his ear Hardison was giving him directions to Lucille, but he knew he could not return to the team. Not right now.

The Russian mob was not known for their leniency and if they thought he had people he worked with, then they would only target them as well. No, he had to go into hiding on his own and return to them later, when he could shake off his pursuers. In his ear he heard Hardison rant at him as he took the wrong turn, but Eliot didn’t care. He had a plan.

On the street it was easier to disappear, though he got many looks from people as they cleared the way for him while he ran like a madman. There were a few screams when the Russians appeared behind him with guns.

If it were a normal day and he was on his own, he would have stayed to fight them, but he was wearing a suit he couldn't easily fight in and Sophie and Parker had still been in the building, he couldn't risk them for something stupid he’d done in the past. And when he was outside, he didn’t have the surprise advantage or the closeness to take on that many guys with guns.

So, he ran.

His lungs were burning in his chest and his legs would be jelly were it not for the fact that he regularly ran long tracks in case he got in this exact situation.

It took a while, but the bullets stopped flying around his head and he couldn't hear any footsteps behind him anymore. He took a moment to focus on the chatter over the coms. His brain hadn’t heardany of the key words to get his attention in the background, so he assumed it was all fine.

“Eliot, Eliot, are you listening to me?” That was Nate.

“I’m here,” he grunted, checking in the alley if there was anyone still following, before starting to climb the fire escape.

“What are you doing? Hardison’s GPS says you’re nowhere near the hotel. We need to regroup and figure out our next move,” Nate said as Sophie asked: “Are you okay, Eliot?”

He replied: “I’m fine, Sophie. Just didn’t want to lead a group of armed mobster to our hotel room when their goal is to kill me and all my associates.”

“They’re coming to kill us?” Hardison’s squeaky voice came through the speaker.

“Not if they don’t know I’m with you,” Eliot assured him, “which is why I’m not at the hotel right now. I think I’ve shaken them off, but just in case I’m taking a long way round. Probably won’t come through the doors.”

Thenhe tuned them out again. It might be rude and he heard they were still asking him all sorts of questions, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer. He had other things to focus on and the last thing he wanted was to tell them why there was a hit on his head from this particular mobster.

Going through the city over the roof, he saw a few familiar stances and haircuts stationed at public places where he would hide, as well as at the hotels and he knew he had made the right decision to take this route.

Mentally he was trying to figure out why Mikhail was here of all places talking with their mark. It could be that he was laundering money and their mark having a connection with the mob could both help and be an issue. He could get into witness protection in turn for information, but it was also proof that his business wasn’t clean, even if they had wanted to get him for the stealing of company funds that screwed over his employees’ safety.

But that was not his business to think about, but Nate’s. He would wait for what the man had to say about this development, but in order to do that, he needed to get back to the hotel.

There were also “guards” at the entrance of their hotel, but the team was only on the fourth floor and while they weren’t close to the fire escape, Eliot could get up high and then go side wards over the ridge to their window.

He gave Hardison a heart attack when he got at the window. They hadn’t left it open, much to his chagrin, but were luckily there to open it for him and it was better not to have a weakness in the defense, so he couldn't blame them.

“What the hell, man,” Hardison said. “Give someone a warning before you go around showing up in front of the window. Did you even have safety or something? We’re up high. You could have fallen to your death, Eliot.”

“Yeah and if I had gone through the front door, I would have been shot,” he pointed out tiredly from where he was lying on the floor.

Parker was looking out the window and smiled: “Oeh, that’s a good climbing ridge indeed.”

“Woman!” Hardison exclaimed, while Eliot said: “We could do without the attention to our room, Parker, maybe next time.” She looked sad and glanced over one more time, before closing the window with a pout.

“Care to explain what happened?” Nate asked as he leaned over him. He did that face where he attempted innocence, but failed.

“Got recognized by someone who’s sort of actively trying to kill me,” Eliot replied with what they already knew.

“Sort of actively?” Sophie asked and Eliot was glad he could explain something not that bad to them instead of the other stuff. “Yeah, there’s a difference between saying, ‘hey if you manage to kill this person and prove it you get money,’ and ‘I am hiring you to kill this person within a time frame.’ Mikhail is the former. If I die, he would be happy, but he’s not putting extra resources in finding me and eliminating me.”

“And why would be be happy if you’re dead?” Fucking Nate always sticking his nose everywhere.

“I met him once,” Eliot wasn’t giving him shit.

“Would I be correct in assuming that the meeting ended in a loss on his end?” Nate replied.

“Maybe.” He was neither confirming or denying, not if there was no explicit reason. He hadn’t felt bad about the blow to Mikhail’s organization. It hadn’t been the worst he’d done and Mikhail had a smuggling ring of sex workers and that had been awful to find.

“Okay, so we know Fernsby has connections to the Russian mob,” Nate thought out loud. “So, he’s not only stealing money from his employees, but laundering dirty money as well. If we can tie those together then we’re set.”

“Mikhail has a weakness for brunettes,” Eliot informed him, not telling him how he got that tidbit of knowledge. “He also likes gambling.”

Nate got a glint in his eye as he looked to Sophie, who smiled back. Of course those two would have a plan without needing to communicate.

“You’re out for the rest of the con,” Nate told him. “Can’t have you risk the entire thing if you’re recognized.”

“What? No!” Eliot sat up. “I need to be there to have your back. With the Russians it’s only going to get more dangerous. I’m not leaving you to your fate with those people, they’re dangerous, Nate. This isn’t just some cushy billionaire anymore.”

“And what if he gets suspicious of Sophie because of you, what will you do then, Eliot?” Nate shot back. “I’m not saying you need to stay here, but I am saying you need to keep out of sight. You’re with Hardison in Lucille.”

Eliot wanted to protest, wanted to be closer to the danger in case it went to shit, he wanted to be there when a mistake from his past came back, but he couldn't argue with Nate’s logic and sometimes he hated that about the man.

So, he found himself watching the screens in Lucille as Sophie tried to get Mikhail to make a gamble on her company, to ditch Fernsby, because he was doing it without him and leaving him out of the profits.

He was filled with jittery energy, but so far so good.

“Hey, Eliot,” Hardison opened. “What’s it like, you know, to have a hit on your head? I mean, I’m wanted in some countries, but that’s just boring government stuff, not actual people, like persons, wanting me dead personally, you know.”

“Are you really asking me what it’s like when someone wants you killed?” Eliot asked him.

“I guess,” Hardison shrugged, trying not to look like he wanted to know the answer and failing miserably.

“It’s not that different from being wanted by the government, I suppose,” Eliot finally answered, surprising Hardison. “You just gotta watch out for different things and hope no one is desperate enough for cash to go after you. I have a good enough reputation that hardly anyone tries, but I’ve had periods where I had multiple people on my trail across a dozen countries. It was exhausting, but I get it. Kill me and you can make a lot of people with a lot of money happy.”

“Wait, hold on, reverse and repeat,” Hardison said. “A lot of people?”

“Yeah,” Eliot replied, didn’t Hardison know this? “I got more than one hit on my head. I think it’s five. Used to be six, but one of them died and the bounty fell through. Though I never knew if that one English guy put one on my head as well. And of course, the countries, but those are always lazy about it, so I don’t worrry too much about those.”

“What the fuck, man.”

Eliot didn’t see the big deal. He had done a lot to deserve it and he had learned to live with it. He hadalways kept one eye open anyway.

He focused back on the screen, despite the hiccup earlier with him, the con ran smoothly on its new course and Sophie was phenomenal as he pitted the two guys against one another, making them sell each other out in the end.

Nate was there with the police and both were arrested with illegal cash on their hands and a lot of bank records detailing their dirty schemes as well as showing the abysmal circumstances of the workers that had gone unaddressed in favor of laundering money.

Later when they were sitting in the bar, Nate turned to him and asked: “Any more of that we should be worried about?”

Before Eliot could answer, Hardison had jumped in: “Apparently between five and six more times.”

“No, between four and five,” Eliot corrected. “Mikhail is no longer on the list, but honestly we couldn't have predicted this and there are too many bad guys I’ve known, double crossed, worked for or left that are still out there. We can’t account for all of them. I’ll try to be aware of which marks could have ties to other’s I’ve known, but you don’t get to be good in my line of work without enemies.”

Nate wanted to say something else, but Sophie was quicker. “I’m not keeping track of all the people I have grifted either, Nate,” she said. “We all have a past and you’re not harping me about that or Parker on all she’s stolen. Just because Eliot’s past is a bit different, doesn’t mean we can treat it differently in our team.”

Eliot didn’t fully agree with the comparison. His enemies we’re not the same and one of them coming back would be worse than it was for others.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with her. Not right now.

He thought of all the people he killed, all the families he’d left behind with one member less. He thought of Moreau and the horrible things he’d done for that man. He thought of the US Army that had turned him into a killer and set him loose on foreign soil for the first time.

And he thought of his team. Of how glad he was he knew them and how they made him better and didn’t force him to be a person he hated. How much they meant to him and how badly he didn’t want to loose that.

So he stayed quiet and let Sophie defend him, hoping his past would not come back like that again.

~~

A/N:

Sorry that the con is kinda vague, I only had the ‘the mark/someone there has a hit on Eliot and he needs to run’ and no clear plan on running the con in the background. Hope it was still enjoyable :D

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 3

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes) 

summary -  “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant

a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 2 // chapter 4

-----

You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station. 

This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.

But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to. 

And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves. 

It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room. 

“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway. 

“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift. 

You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room. 

You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well. 

As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there. 

You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house. 

Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.” 

JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful. 

JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?” 

You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through. 

Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.

“Lead the way.” 

“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious. 

“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said. 

You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside. 

Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected. 

You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again. 

“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position. 

“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.” 

Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over. 

“Oh?” You squeaked. 

“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.” 

“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that. 

----

Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks. 

“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed. 

Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.

Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back. 

“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs. 

As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned. 

“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice. 

Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.” 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation. 

“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice. 

Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”

“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.

“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...” 

----

Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal. 

“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it. 

“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look. 

It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open. 

“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-” 

“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind. 

Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.” 

----

With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night. 

You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night. 

The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.

Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night. 

After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink. 

Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes. 

With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around. 

“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face. 

“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet. 

“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon. 

“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke. 

“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight. 

“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.” 

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees. 

“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.” 

“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-” 

“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that. 

“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you. 

Almost.

Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.” 

“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?” 

“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you. 

“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant. 

“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!” 

Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low. 

“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word. 

“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray. 

“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?” 

Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.

“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”

“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.” 

“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.” 

“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement. 

“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table. 

“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.

You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.” 

You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips. 

-----

The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.

Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.

You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that! 

Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero? 

He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car. 

With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off. 

-----

Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.

“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer. 

“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice. 

“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender. 

Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.” 

Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. “I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix. 

“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well. 

Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera. 

“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him. 

“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was. 

Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer. 

“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.” 

Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees. 

“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch. 

Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.  

“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.” 

Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.

-----

a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily. 

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

[whump-town]

The Safe Side

No pairings

No warnings (surprising, I know)

Hotch is getting older and that scares the shit out of Reid

I probably wouldn't have finished this if not for @genevievedarcygranger

----------------

His only symptom is memory loss.

Reid sees it, he knows it. The symptoms he’s committed to his memory for better or worse dispelled so easily, so regularly before him but he can’t help but entertain his irrational fears. He’s not sure why. It would not be more comforting for Hotch’s occasional forgetfulness to be Alzheimer’s and not age and yet he waits for the moment that proves him wrong. For the phone call that Hotch is dressed for work and trying to get up to the bullpen. That they’ll lose him to anxiety and aggression, he’ll lose his temperament and comforting nature bit-by-bit until he’s broken down. And Reid will lose him too.

The good things become tainted by his fear.

At Christmas, they go to Rossi’s like they always do, and while the others dance to the music softly humming through the room Reid finds himself watching Hotch. Inspecting the grey hairs growing ever more along his temples, spread now through the rest of his hair. They age him appropriately but Reid can’t help but feel betrayed by their presence like he’s being taunted. No different from the reading glasses perched at the very edge of Hotch’s nose, the ones Hank lightly reaches up for. Old enough not to grab at them but still curiously taking a finger to trail their frames. Reid neglects his desire to be closer to them, to be drawn in by Hotch’s deep voice and the crackling fire soothing Hank to sleep. He stays where he is, hearing the ghosting bits of “Where The Wild Things Are” for the third time.

All he hears is science. Proof in the voice’s Hotch uses for each character -- “Oh, please don't go — I'll eat you up — I love you so!” -- that his language center had no inhibitions. The way Hank looks at Hotch when he bellows that line the first time, giggling and writing about when Hotch tickles him and squeezes him up tight so Hank can’t get away is lost to Reid for what it really is. That the spontaneous tickling and the reading mean other things. The love between them and Hank’s adoration for Hotch boiled down to symptoms Reid can prove Hotch doesn’t have.

Reid is terrified and it won’t let it up.

He finds himself panicking in Rossi’s backyard, surrounded by laughing people. Happy people who have no idea what his problem is. But he sweeps his over the clusters of chatting people and realizes that in all the groups he can’t find Hotch. Amidst them, he’s fairly easy to spot. Sticks to what he knows and who he’s most comfortable with. Diplomatic in that he makes sure he talks to everyone once but if he’s going to be someplace he’s not where he should be.

This is it, he tells himself. He’ll find Hotch confused, ambling about alone and where he shouldn’t be. Not sure where he is or why he’s here.

And then Reid turns around and finds Emily sitting with him on the porch swing. One of Hotch’s legs stretched out over the expanse of the porch, dark jeans a contrast to the concrete as he rocks them back and forth. Emily’s head on his shoulder and his arm around her back, a glass of wine passed between them. Neither saying a word as they watch the teams they built interacting with one another, families mixing together.

Reid can’t enjoy their smiles, the way they look out over everyone like proud parents.

Even his own birthday with books in a variety of languages sitting around him wrapped in an array of papers that so brilliantly display who their giver was. With his fingers tracing the one covered in newspaper, the one he knows is from Hotch, Reid is lost to this rot in the pit of his stomach. The sludge that fills his veins with tension. It leaves him the only person not smiling, with no idea what’s happening, when Garcia and Hotch stand over his cake fussing about which direction to light the candles. He misses the finger Hotch swipes through the icing and dollops right on Garcia’s nose. Looks up to watch Garcia retaliate with the same treatment but can’t enjoy it, can’t feel love or ease when the room erupts in laughter and Garcia and Hotch stand there with their icing-covered noses smiling at one another.

He finally finds the courage to mention it to someone, tells Morgan one afternoon when they both end up at Hotch’s house. Morgan is there fixing some wooden stakes in Hotch’s garden and Reid dropping off groceries. Hotch is sleeping off surgery medication, unaware of the hushed conversation being had outside.

“Kid,” Morgan can see it. The terror eating Reid alive. “They just hacked him apart and put him back together, all right? He’s on some strong shit right now. He’ll be fine in a day or two. You’ll see.” Morgan tells him not to worry about it, Hotch has been knocked around his entire life. Nearly sixty years of severe blows to the head and if he manages to walk out of this life with just a sketchy memory then he’s getting off lucky.

But when Hotch stands for too long in a room trying to remember what he was doing or when he can’t provide an answer for how much coffee he’s had or if he needs eggs or if he had the last bowl of oatmeal this morning it scares the shit out of Reid.

Really, Hotch is fine.

Hotch had to write his doctor’s appointments down and he’s constantly needing some sort of surgery to fix whatever old injury is coming back to remind him of his previous offense but he’s his normal actively grouchy self. He never forgets to stop by Reid’s apartment Thursday around noon or his promise to get Henry and Hank from school when no one else can.

That doesn’t mean no one worries about him.

He would hate to know the collapse wasn’t when they started taking note of his fragile health.

Two weeks after his forty-fifth birthday he pulled a muscle in his chest (moving the couch so Jack could get a Hotwheels out from underneath) and JJ had watched him pause during his coffee run to press his palm into the strain. Her mind had filtered through a hundred scenarios to explain the behavior and they’d all ended with his death. Hotch is the kind of person with a puzzle piece life, whose pieces are spread out over the course of years, meant to be collected and put together by only the most detail-oriented. She knew his father had died of a heart attack and Reid only served to reiterate that fact. It was only a pulled muscle but, not for the first time, she felt utterly terrified of how much losing him would hurt.

There’s a string of these awful moments when his humanity, his mortality, is right there for them to witness. And, as strong as they’d like to believe themselves to be, they look away.

He’s fine now, all things considered.

The janky memory thing isn’t all that bad. He has milked it on more than one occasion. It’s how he keeps missing his physical therapy. Although, that has come around to bite him in the ass. He’s supposed to be using this cane they gave him and now someone shows up every week to take him to the appointment so he can’t even play it off like he’s forgotten. Typically it’s Emily or Derek but Garcia’s shown up and Reid even took him once. It’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that there are roughly thirteen people who he might run into in public who know he’s supposed to be using the cane and who will inquire about it or bring it up to someone else.

He hadn’t realized just how many people could get on his case until he’d run into Matt’s wife in the store and after having their brief, polite conversation where he mentioned Reid had called him not that long ago asking for advice on the BAUs current case, she asked about his knee. She said Garcia had been fretting over this last surgery he had and told her about it, she hadn’t thought that much time had passed. Was surprised he was back on his feet. It had taken six hours for him to get the phone call from Garcia and then Emily came over an hour later begging him to just “for the sake of my fucking sanity, Hotch, take it easy”. That’s when Garcia sat down and made him a calendar and he lost his say in matters of his grocery shopping and responsibility to take himself to doctor’s appointments.

He’s since won back grocery shopping. His doctor wrote him a note and Garcia conceded. She’s not stupid enough to toss their schedule for his doctor’s appointments though.

So, though he loathes it, he takes the cane with him when he leaves the house.

He’s learned his lesson. Penelope Garcia is one scary-ass lady who has far more control over him and everyone else than he’d care to realize.

Hotch hears the doorbell, muffled though it is, from outside. He’d known getting down on the ground was a bad idea with the way his knees have been hurting but he’s got zucchini and cucumbers laying out in the sun and while he ignored them yesterday, he knows he need to get them out today. Reid had expressed interest in them and Rossi’s likely to want the zucchini. He also knows Derek offered to take care of this sort of stuff but it’s a too warm Sunday morning and Derek’s likely chasing around a happy toddler.

Besides, he doesn’t have enough tomatoes to compensate for Derek’s work. That being said Derek would come over and do it regardless, he doesn’t mind.

“It’s about to rain,” Reid informs him the second he gets to the door. Hotch watches Reid’s eyes flick to his empty left hand, to the curve of his limp palm where his cane is supposed to be. Unlike the others, Hotch knows Reid will not say anything directly to him. Emily might ask where the cane is and Garcia would insist on going to get it but Reid will just anxiously flicker back and forth between Hotch’s face and his hand. Twisting and worrying until Hotch gets it himself. Which is surprisingly effective.

Hotch hums his agreeance, he could smell it in the air. Can tell it’s going to be a good storm with the shift and strength of the wind coming in. It’ll cool things off for a few hours then bring back the humidity and the mosquitoes with a vengeance.

“Do you think” Reid follows Hotch into the kitchen. He’s careful to keep a distance, not to push Hotch’s pace. He mills about in odd places to compensate their gates, looks at the book sitting on Hotch’s coffee table. “Do you think it’s going to rain a lot?” He’s a genius with the means to figure that out on his own and likely he already knows what he thinks the answer is. Hotch’s opinion is still important.

Hotch is in the fridge, rustling bags around as he finds the bag of vegetables he’s got set aside for Reid. He’s weird about fruits and vegetables, worries about bacteria and things but will eat a Poptart for every meal if given the chance. The logic is irrational but after twenty years of worrying about Reid’s diet, Hotch has finally found a solution to this particular problem.

“No tomatoes,” Hotch promises as he hands the bag over to Reid.

Reid nods, “I don’t like tomatoes.”

“I know.”

Reid takes his bag, smiles as he thinks about what things he can make with what he’s been given. “How much do you think it’ll rain?” he asks again.

Hotch hums, having heard Reid the first time. “It’ll be a good storm,” he figures, “might take out the electricity.” He only adds the last bit as a warning. Reid’s scared of the dark, a fact exacerbated by big storms that knock out the electricity. A common occurrence but no less startling.

“Oh.” Reid worries his lip, looks to the ground and everywhere but where Hotch is.

It’s likely to start soon, the winds really picking up and the sun’s drowned out by thick, rolling clouds. The storm of the century it’s likely not. Hotch doubts it’s even the sort people pull over on the side of the road to wait out but he decides to think it might anyway. Decides to tap Reid’s elbow and motion for him to follow, “come on.” He’s not even really sure where he’s going but it’ll lend a distraction. “Wait out the storm,” Hotch tells him, glancing back to make sure Reid’s following. “I wanna show you something.”

They spend the storm in his office, leaning over an old law school textbook. Reid has an affinity for them. No matter how many times Hotch uses them for a distraction, pulling them down from their dusty shelves, Reid still takes to them like it’s the very first time. He’ll sit for hours reading over the information but, his favorite parts, are how Hotch they are.

The notes he’s scribbled in the margins. Flashes of yellow highlighter. A coffee stain or smudge where his palm moves against not yet dried ink. Notes for cases or classes. Pages he’s dog-eared. They’re lived in, nearly perfect condition biographies. Of course, Reid gravitates to them.

By the time the storm rolls over Reid realizes he’s been alone in the office for hours. Sheepishly, he gets up and looks around. Makes his way through Hotch’s house until Reid finds him on the couch. As soon as Hotch sees him he takes off his reading glasses, placing a bookmark in his book and raising his eyebrow to inquire if Reid needs something.

“I should probably get going.”

Hotch doesn’t miss how suddenly bashful Reid gets, the way he looks down at the floor. “If you’d like,” Hotch won’t encourage him to leave. He spends a lot of time alone. He doesn’t mind have someone floating around. But Reid’s decided he’s overstayed his welcome so he moves cautiously towards the door. Taking his time because he knows Hotch will see him out.

“Be careful,” Hotch tells him as he opens himself up for a hug and Reid flushes a little under the attention but still steps into Hotch’s arms. Hotch gives him the bag of vegetables and frowns at the state of Reid’s hair. “Stop worrying so much,” Hotch fusses and they’re both aware of how parental his tone has gotten as frowns. He can see grey hairs here and there. Maybe not as present as his but there. “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s worrying you so much?”

Reid freezes, confused. Ordinarily, he’d give in, Hotch always fixes things but not this time. “I’m okay,” Reid promises.

Hotch doesn’t believe him but Reid’s an adult and Hotch knows when he’s needed Reid will know where to find him. All he can hope is that Reid comes to him if he really needs help. “Alright.”

They nod once more and Reid steps out but he’s not halfway down the driveway when Hotch shouts “I meant it, be careful driving home!”

Reid stops where he is, struck by the oddness of this situation. He made it his entire childhood without this sort of thing. His mother cared that he got home but he didn’t have friends to be out with. Never needed to stop and figure out how to call home and tell her he’d be home late. Now he’s lost his mother and he’s lost Gideon.

And he’s terrified he’ll lose Hotch next.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he offers, feels silly the second it comes out of his mouth. Like Hotch would care enough for that. Like Hotch won’t be bothered with him texting him. Like Hotch is going to sit there and wait for the text.

Hotch narrows his eyes, “you’d better.”

Because Hotch will sit there and wait for the text.

“Yes, sir.”

Hotch is fine but Reid will keep watching just to be on the safe side.

[anadrawzone]

Tawnas departure

Wrote by: Ana González | Translated by: Oxide Mr. Crumb

- … Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? -

After an endless adventure touring tropical islands; Ancient ruins, rivers and waterfalls, mines, laboratories and even a macabre castle, our orange hero had finally managed to banish the villain. A battle between two opposite poles that, without hesitation at all, would surely have its revenge.

Now he just had to stay with the girl and live happily ever after, a wonderful ending to the story of these two lovebirds ... Or so it was supposed. -------- --------

Tawna and Crash watched the beautiful sunset on the horizon. Filled with vibrant warm colors, sitting in that old purple blimp. Crash was happy, fulfilled that he had achieved his main goal; his beloved was safe from any danger and no one was going to threaten them again, their own creator had fallen to a (possible) death and they were reunited again, but the girl did not look as happy as him. That confused him a bit.

While they "saw" the landscape, strangely the blonde girl was not paying attention to the beautiful image, instead, she was immersed in all her thoughts, doubts and desires staring at absolutely nothing. The little boy couldn't help but think that there was something wrong that was bothering him, so he slowly approached to see what she had.

- Uhm… ¿Mh? – The furry touched the blonde's arm gently, but hard enough to pull her out of her trance.

Tawna got up a little nervous and a little excited, turned to see the boy and began to talk to him in an animated way.

- Crash! You know, I really can't believe it, Yo- You came and rescued me. -She took a little pause to catch his breath. -Now that Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? - Crash shook his head somewhat confused, but interested in knowing the answer. Tawna leaned down to get closer to him and whispered. - It means we are free! -

- Woah. - Crash didn't quite understand; he knew all that, he had just experienced it ... Was it something so surprising?

"We can do what we want, be what we want…" Tawna moved from side to side, shaking a little. She could barely contain his excitement; Crash was quite curious of that. She was always someone very calm. - We can LEAVE THIS PLACE. - The girl took her partner's hands, joined them with hers and smiled at him. -Let's use this airship to get out of the Wumpa Islands. Crash, where would you like to go? We have so many possibilities. -

-…-

Crash did not take those words so well, he had to think about it for a couple of seconds, but he made the decision firmly, changed his face to a more serious one, taking a couple of steps away girlfriend and breathed a little. -Ah, ah. -

He shook his head firmly in denial, something unexpected for Tawna, who believed that the marsupial would be totally willing to go with her, that made her feel a lump in her throat. - No? ex-excuse me...? - With some pain, small tears began to fall from the blonde's face, even if Crash had not answered, her reaction would have been the same. She slowly sat down so she could catch up with the orange.

Crash felt bad, he didn't expect her to react that way, he got closer again and placed his hand on Tawna's shoulder and she looked up.

-I don't understand, why would you want to stay? - - Uh! Ah! - Crash tried to make various gestures, trying to tell the girl that he couldn't just leave, he felt that he should stay in this place.

Now that he thought about it, he had never seen beyond the Wumpas Islands, would it be worth leaving his home? Also, what about the flora and fauna of the islands? Without Aku Aku's protection something very bad could happen ...

I understand that your heart is very big, but you haven't seen the things that I saw when I was a prisoner. YOU HAVE NO IDEA ... - Tawna took a breath of air and began to count all the atrocities she had witnessed, things that only few mutants managed to see ... because she was not part of the army forces itself.

The blonde was created with a different purpose, her intelligence and attitude were perfect to stay after army operations and also to be Crash company; a hand that moved the strings, planning movements and giving orders, as well as a reason for his strongest general to always be loyal to his master.

Not being created to fight, the blonde never went through the lethal tests of Dr. Cortex and instead of having a strict training, she had some freedom to explore the castle, to learn the necessary and analyze everything she could. The girl was curious and would soon regret learning too much. ____________________________

Brio wasn't the best at keeping an eye on Tawna, regularly letting her wander alone and talking to other experiments wich she never saw again, very regularly wondering << Where will so many animals go?>>.

One of those days the girl found that "the subject" was being taken to one of the mysterious tests, the girl with some nerves began to follow her partner from a distance, while he was taken by two laboratory assistants; the mutant followed them quite happily, taking long strides while admiring the castle walls, as if it were a simple morning walk. After a certain time, they reached the test chamber, where the voice of their creator was heard through a speaker on the wall.

- Are you ready? - Asked the evil Dr. Neo Cortex, with some joy in his voice, Crash only responded by shaking his head up and down, while Tawna (without having entered) watched everything from a window placed in one of the walls.

What she saw did not liked at all, because, although Crash had no idea at the time, he was crossing highly lethal obstacles; Explosives, fatal falls and possible splinters could be seen from all sides ... this was inhuman, now the girl had an idea of ​​where most of the friends that the bandicoot had made for weeks were going. Thinking of the worst for her partner, Tawna closed her eyes, wishing he managed to survive and not have to re-enter that ugly place again. Fortunately, the first of his prayers was fulfilled, unfortunately the second was not.

Weeks and even months passed, but the girl never managed to meet her goal, at least Crashworth was skillful enough to pass the tests without problems ... but only a few managed to reach the half. The blonde was grateful that she didn't have to go through all that, but she wished that no one else was forced to follow this silly plan of world domination, so she tried to resort to many things. She tried to talk to his friend and best company about the danger he was exposing to, but there was not much to do, Crash had a routine that became more and more strict, with less time in the cages and more in training, by far, whatever he wanted, he couldn't find a safe way to reunite with the girl without alerting the security of the place, so Tawna looked for other alternatives to undo all this. She spoke hundreds of times with Brio, it seemed that he did want to resign, however he always retracted his words, contradicted himself or ignored his surroundings.

- Yes, yes sweet one, we will end this soon, but I cannot disobey the master so easily ... maybe if we joined forces, we could… uh... No-no, I- maybe, ugh. SIGHT. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I feel like they're watching us, I could be in trouble …-

- But Brio I know you can convinc- The subordinate man's alien hand covered her mouth, seeing what appeared to be Cortex's shadow approaching.

- I can't, stop trying. It's time for you to go back to your cage ... you are not supposed to learn about this. - This was the case until the fateful day when the Cortex Vortex was used on the remaining mutants, after several failed tests and breakdowns that our blonde had caused in sabotage attempts.

____________________________

-I'm so glad that neither of us had become an evil slave of that cretin ... Now do you understand why we should not stay? He could still be here! -

- MHM! - Clearly Cortex could still be on the islands somewhere, but Crash was sure that there was still some goodness in that man, he could feel it, hear it. Something that Tawna surely did not know, if Cortex came back ... he should at least try and prove that there is still a kind heart within the doctor.

Having made his girlfriend understand this, she finally resigned herself to accepting her lover's wish. It was sad to think about it, both of them had supported each other when they did not know anyone else, always trying to see for each other, but now their paths were going in different directions ... they did not want to separate, but they were not going to force the other to do something they did not want.

Crash walked over to Tawna and gave her a big hug, while she was still sitting up. -Okay, you want to stay, but I can't do it… not with what I saw, not when I couldn't even protect myself, I wouldn't want to be a hindrance and that you have to worry about me. I'll be back… when I'm strong enough… Maybe we can go on an adventure together that day, okay? - A few tears came from both of them, each one gently dried the other's cry.

Thus, having agreed to separate, Tawna still couldn't leave and leave Crash completely alone and to his own devices, so she stayed for a few weeks while they built a nice home for him to live in. They spent beautiful times, laughed and rested on the seashore ... But despite all that new peace, they still felt the threat of Cortex in the air. His memories were still very fresh.

Crash took a stick and began to write in the sand "Where do you plan to go?", Then stung the blonde a bit slowly. Then she turned around and read the message.

- "I ... I don't really know." - The girl began to think a bit. She did not know the world as it is, she had only heard of it, but never gone. -I have a small map around here, maybe I could start with a somewhat remote place ... Wait, I'll go find it. - She stopped and entered the half-built house, looking among her things for a map that she remembered keeping. Meanwhile, Crash was waiting on the beach, Aku aku appeared out of nowhere (Literally), returning from having checked the status of the Islands. - Fortunately, there hasn't been any sign of Cortex around here in a long time, but I think I've seen an unknown mutant near here. I couldn't check if it was hostile or not so the best thing would be to prepare for whatever is coming. Its coming. –

Crash complied with what his mentor said and quickly stood on guard, ready to await a possible attack from a new enemy. Seconds later, the bushes in the distance began to rustle, moving strongly, much more than it would if a normal animal were behind them, so the marsupial was sure the enemy was there. A couple more steps and the creature emerged from its hiding place, falling as it became entangled with one of the roots of the plants around it. - Huhf! - The orange boy approached slowly ... looking at the creature he thought it did not look like a monster ... or a dangerous mutant, the creature was small, thin and with large blond hair. The girl got up slowly and our hero realized that he was a bandicoot just like him and Tawna ... how strange, they thought they were the only ones of that species created by Cortex

- ¿A-are you… Crash? – Said the girl touching her head. -Yes ... I would recognize I would recognize you wherever, you are something famous brother. -

Aku aku was quite surprised - Wait, brother? - The mask made his protégé move a bit away from the stranger, putting himself in front of her face (which Crash was unable to see, so he began to look out from all possible sides).

- Ehh… Ok, explained it. - He took a breath, raising one of his hands as if pointing to something.

- My name is Coco, I was created by this "Cortex" - While Coco said that Crash said in a low voice “¿Da-Daddy?”, something that made the minor make a somewhat disgusted face. -Yes ... you could say that he is like your father ... not mine, only the one who created me. He told me about you, he said you were still around ... he said you had abandoned me. And well I wanted to know if it was-true. -

- Crash, Crash!! I know it took me a long time, but I found the map. There is a very large island near ... - Tawna left the house euphoric, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the unknown mutant and was placed in a battle pose. - Who-who is she? -

-Coconut. Crash's sister… I need to talk to you. - Coco began to explain why he was here, what had happened these last weeks. -Well, while you guys escaped, I stayed behind. I always wondered why they had run away without me, it's strange. But I did not trust that strange bighead, if you are my family ... why would you? -Oh dear, we… we had no idea that you existed- The two older bandicoots went to hug the smallest, they knew that Cortex could be someone very cruel and liar.

-I think I've been lost for weeks… I didn't know if they were still here, I'm glad I found them. I thought I would be alone on this desolate island. Thanks. -

Coco smiled as they continued with the hug, which lasted a long time, the Bandicoot family just as it had suddenly grown a little more, in the same way it would lose a member. At least Crash would no longer be completely alone, with Coco and Aku by his side, any evil could be stopped. And Tawna? She would go a little calmer. Nervous about going somewhere unaccompanied, but she had to. She had to prove to herself that she would never be a damsel in distress again. Thus gathered all together, they continued talking throughout the afternoon, what they would make of their lives as they would keep communicated. The older blonde ultimately decided to venture to live near Sydney, Australia; due to the good reviews of the place. In addition to having received a curious message from some mutants that were established in that place. Tawna remembered them and thought they had perished during tests and experiments, but somehow, they also escaped without anyone knowing.

--------------

It took another 2 weeks until the house was completely finished. With decisions made and ready to be executed; Tawna packed her things, climbed into the old Cortex airship, and said goodbye to the brothers.

-I will write and send you messages whenever I can. Don't stop saving the world, please. - The girl dropped her suitcases to be able to receive a hug from the two boys, the last hug.

- We hope you find your place soon. Be the best version of yourself. - Coco was quite happy for her friend, but sad for her departure while Crash shed a few tears that he couldn't contain.

- ¡A-dah! – Crash said enthusiastically.

- Bye guys, take good care of yourselves. - The girl finished getting on the airship, taking flight and going to explore the endless world. Who knows, maybe one day the 4 of them can get together again as one big family.

- Let's go home, kids. - Aku aku thought of preparing a good hot chocolate to spend the cold night in the jungle, inside a little house surrounded by trees, where three heroes rested waiting for a new evil to fight.

[destieldailynews]

Meet the Staff!

Here at the DDN we have a lovely crew of hard working hellers devoted to getting you the facts when you need them. We’ve each written bios introducing ourselves which are located beneath the cut. If you’re interested in joining the team, here is a post about what we need.

A note: if you didn’t get a response to your application it is possible there was a typo in your blog url that kept us from reaching out. if you applied and would like to know the status of your application, go ahead and send a DM to @lateral-org.

Hi! I’m Lina, (she/her) and I write the news! I’m actually quite a new addition to the fandom, as I only got properly involved at the beginning of quarantine, but I am already invested enough to be reading a copious amount of fan fiction and writing an essay on the queer representation in the show. My favourite quote has to be “happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being. It’s in just saying it,” and that is why I will never get over 15x18.

Hey! I’m T (@lateral-org), my pronouns are she/they and I’m the main editor for DDN. I used to be obsessed with SPN in 2015 but stopped watching regularly around season twelve. 15x18 sucked me back in, and now I’m invested not just in the show, but all of the stuff going on behind the scenes. I joined DDN because keeping up with #destielgate has basically just become a hobby of mine, and I wanted to make the details more accessible to anyone else who was interested. I’m a deangirl through and through, and my favorite quote is “I have no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude. I’ll figure it out.” 

Howdy! I’m Jas (@you-changedmedean), she/her, and I’m a researcher/editor for DDN, plus doing a bit of blog maintenance. I’ve been casually around the fandom since high school but in 2018 is when I got emotionally involved. I’m currently in college and I began my Tumblr only this year. I’ve already received so much support from everyone in the fandom and it’s been the craziest ride. Even if S/P/N is over, there’s still so much to uncover from the last season. With future conventions on the way as well as actors speaking up more, DDN will be able to provide relevant and accurate information to the fandom in a timely manner. Favorite character is Castiel and if my username (you-changedmedean) can tell you anything, it’s also my favorite quote. 

Hi! I'm Amber, she/her, (@my-people-skillls-are-rusty) and I am a researcher/editor for DDN. I've been in the fandom since around 2015 but got a lot more active in the last couple of years. I don't really know why I joined DDN, I just had a lot of free time and was very invested in the fandom, so might as well have it directed somewhere. My favourite character is either Dean or Castiel, I can't choose between them.  I also don't have a favourite quote as there are so many to choose from, but as its my user name I will go with 'my "people skills" are "rusty"'

Hey! I’m Ally, she/her (@larandomfangirl) and I am a researcher/writer/editor for DDN. I started watching Supernatural back when I was in 8th grade in 2017, and have remained caught up and active in the fandom since then. I joined DDN because 15x18, and everything that has happened since then, made me even more invested in the show and I wanted to help spread factual information about whatever occurs next. My favorite character is either Sam or Cas (I blame being a younger sibling for that), and one of my favorite quotes is “happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.”

Hi! I am Saffa (she/her) (@castiel-holmeshasthephonebox), and I am one of the writers on DDN! I was introduced to Supernatural by tumblr only a year ago, and since then I have been completely hooked. First, I fell in love with Dean and then I fell in love with the creative side of the fandom, all the fics and edits, and I just tumbled deeper down the destiel hell-hole. My favourite quote is "I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did all of it for you."

Hey! I’m El (they/them)  (@desperately-human) I am one of the writer/editors here at DDN. I only started paying attention to Supernatural this fall (november 5, really) but since then, having every update on #destielgate has been my main hobby. Almost everything I know I have absorbed through memes, liveblogs, and those amvs on youtube. I’ve never actually seen an episode all the way through. That said, upon reflection i believe I am a Cas girl gender neutral term. Cliche but intense, I like “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” 

Hello! My name is Liz (@bart-ska-mpson) and I am a researcher/writer. Got into SPN in 2014-ish because of superwholock tumblr peer pressure, and whattaknow, it became my favorite of all of them, mainly because of the sheer power of Destiel! I read meta like the morning newspaper back then. I became frustrated by the end of s10 and by the time Lucifer possessed the president I just could not take it anymore (if only I kept watching til Lily Sunder :’(...). But really I never totally lost faith in canon Destiel and  words cannot describe the feeling I had when I heard through Tumblr that it finally happened. I’ve been so obsessed with trying to figure out what's “really happening” so I figured I might as well help out here. My favorite quote is the whole conversation Dean and Cas have when he finds him in Purgatory. “I prayed to you Cas, every night!” “I know” </33333

Hi! I'm Kat (@team-free-memes), she/her, and I'm a researcher and editor here at the DDN. I was internet-pressured into watching the show after seeing so many posts about it online. I've been in the fandom for over a year. I joined the DDN because I've always been an avid Destiel shipper and season 16 has gripped me tight and raised me from sanity, so I want to help clear things up for other fans lost in the sea of conspiracy theories to ensure that the truth circulates. I can't choose between Cas and Jack for the title of my favorite character, but in any case I am definitely Dean coded. My favorite quote is, "Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It's just people trying to do their best in a world where it's far too easy to do your worst."

Hey! My name is Lana (@curvedsphere), she/they, and I’m a part of the research, editing, and blog teams at DDN. I started watching the show when season 11 was airing, but didn’t get into fandom until early season 13, where I fell hard and fast into this community and have been here ever since! It’s also when I started actively and avidly shipping Destiel (I was just a casual shipper before then). I joined the DDN because I’m so truly invested in season 16 - in finding/figuring out as much of the truth as possible about the finale and the rest of season 15. My favourite character is probably Cas, but I love all of TFW 2.0 and Wayward a lot. I have so many favourite quotes that I love, but not-surprisingly I think I have to go with either “Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being”, or “for love”.

Hi! I’m Steph (@stephlovessubway), she/her and I’m a researcher at DDN. I started watching the show in 2007 (on YouTube no less) and then watching live with season 4 in 2008. I have seen the highs (season 4 and season 5) and the lows (season 7) on Tumblr, and took a break for a few years and started back with season 10. I rewatched all the series in the first UK lockdown and managed to witness the wild end of season 15. I’ve shipped destiel from the beginning, mainly because Cas is my favourite character, and have thoroughly enjoyed season 16 on Tumblr. My favourite quote is Cas’s monologue at the beginning of The Man Who Would Be King.

[fernsplaysthings]

Here’s about 2.7k words about Birds.

There’ll be more. Eventually.

Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider.

“He must know we could just kill him? I’ve killed Gods. He’s just an overstuffed Ether pinata.”

Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider.

Roost’s shell shivers like the wings of an agitated insect and he turns his single eye towards his Guardian, squinting across at them in judgement. The ornament, a tiny replica of a Vex Harpy, does make the whole spectacle a little sillier than he wants but the impact, he hopes, will be the same. Nestled in the seat of their jumpship Kestral swings their vision away from their descent into the tattered islands of the Reef to take in the scolding Ghost.

“I’m not going to kill him,” they almost whine defensively, “He just needs to know I could if I wanted to. Especially if he tries anything shitty with you. ”

The impression of a sigh sounds from the little light, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Kes. I know we’ve seen a lot of loss and pain. Sundance, Sagira, Glint. I know some ghosts - the other kind - are showing their faces and it’s...it’s hard for you to put your feelings together. But…” Roost presses into the crook of Kestral’s neck with some force, finding rest in the collar of fur that covers their shoulders, “...You’ll always have me. We’ll have each other.”

Silence. The Ghost’s eye swivels upwards towards his Guardian’s face after waiting a moment to see if the prolonged quiet pulled a reply from them. Their face was blank and stoney and it took a moment for them to realise they were being watched intently.

Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider. Be nice to Spider.

“Stop trying to make me cry while I’m concentrating, you fuck.”

---

“Alright Kestral. The line’s secure. It’s just you, me and Roost.”

The Young Wolf sighs heavily, “Glint is it really a good idea for me to keep coming back here?”

They’d been jumping back and forth to the Shore for a short while now, meeting up with Crow for a run down on the Wrathborn situation and where they were in the general scheme of things. It’d be fine. Once the Celebrant was dead they could part ways and the Young Wolf could go back to their normal day to day activities. And their own normal thoughts. Because holy shit debating the morality of what they were doing and juggling the complex feeling of seeing the former Prince of the Reef’s face regularly, with the fact that the New Light had nothing to do with…

...that. 

It was stressful. And not ‘God slaying’ stressful. Not even embracing the Darkness stressful. Wading into the depths and heights of the fabled Deep Stone Crypt, although unique in it’s inflicted trauma - poor Artemis - hadn’t put them in the same situation. Killing came with it’s own special kind of low. Grieving was a totally different monster.

“I understand why you’re worried but he remembers nothing. Plus, he looks up to you,” the little Light sounds concerned, his synthesised voice with a pleading edge. He obviously and proudly loved his Guardian, “You’re the first kind face he’s seen and I - we would appreciate it. A lot, Kestral.”

Another heavier sigh and the Hunter kneaded at their temples, bracing themselves to see that face again. Reliving the moment - moments? - over again in their mind. Cayde’s final rattling words. Uldren’s futile attempts to reason his way out from the sights of Petra’s gun. The new confounding idea that they now felt something aside from pity for the man that had been laid out on the floor unready to die.

“We’ll be in the lair in a few minutes. Let Spider know we’re on our way.”

“Will do, Guardian. We’re looking forward to seeing you!”

---

Coming face to face with the man that inhabited the body of Uldren Sov was a little less jarring these days and, although still entirely uncomfortable and a little like walking on eggshells at all times, they did kind of look forward to the quick wit - without the underlying loathing he’d always had before - and how damn earnest he was. A real Guardian, determined with all his heart to help people around him.

It was endearing. Unfortunately.

Mostly because it reminded them a little of their early Guardian days. Way back when things were somehow both simpler and more difficult. When they’d known that they wanted to help wherever they saw pain and danger but unsure of who they were and what cause they were fighting for aside from the driving urge to protect...

Even when they’d end up carrying the resulting hurt with them when they left.

Long before the ‘Young Wolf’ was an icon amongst Guardians, Kestral had been sweet and earnest themself. Driven but alone. Aside from Roost, of course. And despite the fact that the face and voice of their newest member of the flock had haunted their nightmares for months they still didn’t want ‘Guardian-hood’ to break him down too. For him to succumb to the slow process of losing himself to the need to help, whatever the cost.

Shared burdens and all that.

Plus Kestral liked to think that they had a good bit of experience under their belt to pass on to him so perhaps he’d find himself happily surrounded in the Guardian ‘culture’ one day soon.

“With Savek defeated and a good number of Wrathborn taken care of I think our next target is somewhere near the mines to the north.”

Crow stands over his cluttered desk, a map somewhat resembling the Tangled Shore spread beneath his hands and marked with crosses in seemingly random locations. One of them they recognised, Sjursrest, where the Wrathborn Eliksni Savek had been called. She hadn’t been the worst enemy to fight and Spider had left them alone for a while afterwards. Apparently he was mildly generous after they’d achieved a small goal.

Naturally the generosity only lasted until another of his shipments suddenly vanished and then it was straight back to work for his poor underling.

“You think the smaller Wrathborn might lead us straight to them again?”

He turns his attention to the Hunter at his side, a head shorter than himself - if you didn’t include the nest of hair in their high ponytail - and catches their gaze. They really wanted to hate that glowing yellow stare but...it was softer than Uldren’s had ever been when looking at them. Held less contempt for what they were.

It didn’t feel like he was sizing them up for a coffin.

Realising he’d been looking a little too long, perhaps uncomfortable with the Hunter’s unnervingly steady returned look, Crow cleared his throat, “If you try the lure at the Cryptolith again we can see where it leads.”

“Sounds good to me,” they reply, stepping back from the map and holding out a palm for Roost to transmat into, “I’ll keep in touch. Unless you’ll be joining me this time?”

The slightly clunky sound of Glint’s shell as he twisted in alarm snapped Kestral away from Roost and they arched an eyebrow.

“Crow, I know you want to help but you have to stay out of sight.”

His shoulders visibly slouch and Kestral hated how defeated he looked when, knowing the ache of feeling useless, they understood how much he wanted to be out there. It made sense to keep him secreted away though, just in case a single Guardian out on the Shore recognised his face and matched him to his former life. Just in case they felt the need to let him know that they knew what he’d done. If Kestral hadn’t been sure that Uldren deserved death even at the end of their hunt, this man, completely unconnected in everything but appearance, definitely didn’t deserve the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of other Lightbearers like them.

Why did Glint have to mention them being the first friendly Guardian he’d seen?

Crow straightened up, his momentary lapse in drive apparently a small hiccough and shot a grin over to his Ghost, “I see, you want to keep me all to yourself. I can’t blame you.”

With that Kestral decided they’d seen enough wholesome Light interactions for the day and threw up a lax salute before turning on their heel and heading for the exit.

“Glint has our feed, if you find anything new let us know.”

---

The following week happened to be the beginning of the Tower’s Dawning celebration. Having taken down yet another of the big Wrathborn, a heavy shank that decided to be the biggest pain in their ass, Kestral assumed that Spider could give the newest addition to his collection a small break to enjoy a mini version of the festivities. Since Glint had explained that their last Dawning had been ‘difficult’ - Kestrel preferred the term ‘emotionally scarring’ - they’d taken it upon themself, with a little prodding from Roost, to see to it that Crow at least received some traditional cookies from at least one Guardian.

Sadly, letting the rest of the fireteam know that the body of Uldren Sov walked again and that of all people Kestral, bringer of his demise, was taking him cookies…

Yeah they didn’t have time to unpack that.

So one tin of cookies (varied flavours), a string of tiny lights shaped like engrams, two servings of powdered hot chocolate (marshmallows stored separately) and a small gift wrapped delicately in a bow made their way aboard the jumpship storage before they travelled to the Tangled Shore.

A mote of panic made its way into their mind as they landed and gathered the items; what if he didn’t like any of this? They could just leave the goods on the ship and not have to worry about being mocked...or making him feel patronised by their silly traditions. Roost’s slitted glare forced them to continue though. He completely believed Crow and Glint would appreciate the gestures and Kestral hoped that he’d been speaking with the new Lightbearer’s Ghost to confirm as much. Either that or Roost had far too much faith in his goofy Guardian’s ideas on ‘welcoming’ and ‘festivities’.

Of course all that was immediately followed by the slap in the face that was ‘realising they wanted Crow to be happy’ and decided to focus on fitting everything in their arms instead.

Naturally the easiest way to get everything to the lair would have been to transmat it all at the same time, but something had to be said for riding up with a stack of goodies. Plus Spider hated it when they rolled in on their sparrow and ditched it in the corridor for a while before sending it away. He’d not been impressed on seeing that his (least) favourite Guardian seemed to have something other than work on their mind but he said little about it. Kestrel strode by quickly regardless because any conversation with Spider that could be avoided, should be.

Glint heard them before they’d rounded the corner, floating just out of view of the entrance, little eye lighting up brighter when he realised who’d turned up. And that they had stuff.

“You didn’t warn us!”

Kestrel struck an awkward pose, upper body ladened with their bounty, “Surprise?”

Crow’s head peeked around into the corridor soon after they’d spoken, a small tilt of the head and raised eyebrow as he glanced towards Glint questioningly. The Ghost simply rounded on Kestral and Roost, nudging them into the room before spinning excitedly.

“What is all this?”

Although trying not to meet his confused face - for fear, embarrassment or shame - the Hunter realised they’d need some extra arms to sort things out. Especially since Crow’s work surfaces seemed to be partially covered in machinery and scrap, with the other parts covered in grease and...Hive gunk? No matter what it was, it was no place for cookies. Placing the small stack in his arms Kestral quickly slung the lights over...something...and powered them up.

The small ‘oh’ could’ve come from either Glint or Crow, they weren’t sure.

“Do you have somewhere sort of clean to sit?”

Glancing over to a seat fashioned from assorted stuff Crow made a pained grimace, “Not going to lie I’m not exactly used to having guests.”

No matter. An ‘only slightly ruined dust sheet’ thrown over it and Kestral was satisfied that it would do for something to sit on for a bit. They took the mini festive haul back from Crow and gestured for him to perch as they held out the tin of cookies.

“I wasn’t sure what flavour you like so…” their smile was awkward, “Yeah. I made a bunch.”

“A bunch of what?”

The Ghosts’ simultaneous outbursts made both Lightbearers startle a little and when Glint settled into a very gentle description of Dawning cookie traditions Kestral took their seat beside him, swinging their legs up to hug their knees.

“Dig in. I bought hot drinks too.”

During the time taken for Kestral to find a comfortable position and for Roost to nestle into his favourite resting spot - Kestrel’s fluffy shoulders - Crow had taken bites of, what looked like, one of each cookie flavour and Glint was telling him which flavours they probably were. Once again Kestral found themself forgetting some of the weird past involving the body beside them, and investing themself in how engrossed in trying cookies he was. How much fun Glint was having talking about festivals now that they’d both finally been able to experience a bit. How much more there was to come and-

“Sorry, do you want some?”

The Hunter blinked up at him, “They’re all yours. I don’t want to help myself to your gift.”

“Glint sa-” the little Ghost tapped a point of his shell against Crow’s face and the New Light stuttered, “Thank you, Kestral. Roost.”

A saccharine warmth filled their chest for a moment, Roost’s shell fluttering again at the shared happiness and pride. They wanted to hate it so much. ‘Past Kestral’ screamed internally about grief and pain and weariness. ‘Present Kestral’ was tired of that and kind of liked the soft smile on their companion’s face - just because they knew they’d helped, nothing else of course - and the way his little Light seemed to buzz with the sheer affection at seeing his Guardian content.

“One more thing,” they press the small gift into his hands, “Don’t get too excited.”

The Awoken’s slightly blank stare prompted Glint into another explanation about how ‘the paper’s actually meant to be removed’ and so on, Kestral mesmerised - oh no - watching him deftly undo the bow they’d worked quite hard to form, reel the ribbon into a roll and then carefully unwrap the paper, Glint all the while egging him on to tear it open since ‘gifts are supposed to be exciting’.

It wasn’t an exciting gift but they did what they could.

On the Crow’s lap lay a folded pile of thick wool and fleece, edges neatly stitched into tidy seams. The deep red of the main body of fabric seemed to be the ideal colour based on what he wore but...well, Roost had said it was a good idea. He’d unfolded it with care, running his hands over the plush underside of the item, that same soft smile on his face.

“Aha, a cosy blanket.”

“I’m sorry if it’s not much I-”

“No! No, it’s...nice. Spider doesn’t supply much in the way of luxury, and…” his voice was a kind laugh as he gestured down to his lap where Glint had already made himself a nest in the folds of the blanket, “...I think it’ll be well used.”

Kestral hadn’t intended to spend almost a full day on the Shore chattering with Crow but somewhere along the way, later into the evening, they’d dug out a camping stove, filled a pan with water and made up two hot chocolates by the colourful glow of the string lights. The pair had settled down, opposite ends of the makeshift bench, feet messily thrown somewhere on the ‘seat’ between them, warm cups in hand. And at some point while immersed in talk of other festivals celebrated at the tower, the blanket had made its way from just covering Crow’s knees to being shared across them both.

Underneath the lively Guardians’ conversation the pair of Lights quietly decided that this might become a little more complicated than they’d anticipated.

[turnaboutimagines]

A murder happens and s/o tries to save the victim but fails and gets injured in the process. I want to see how that'll affect Gumshoe, Miles, and Simon when investigating and how they'd treat the prime suspect and culprit (prime suspect doesn't have to be innocent btw). Maybe some light hurt/comfort between them too when the case is over.

For the sake of writing, Reader was injured to the point of being rendered unconscious for the initial day (an investigation day!) and doesn’t come to until late into the first trial day.  For Gumshoe’s and Edgeworth’s, they serve as a decisive witness in terms of testimony on day two after coming straight to the courthouse from the hospital.  Prime suspect is the culprit in each one!  Wanted to keep these consistent.  ^^Hope you enjoy, pal!  Miles and Simon are under the cut!

Dick Gumshoe.

Detective Gumshoe is very protective of his friends and especially so of his romantic partner.

So when a bad guy not only kills somebody, but hurts his partner in the process, too?  It’s personal, pal.

Will not rest until the person who did such a terrible thing is locked up and you’re safe again.

He uses his height and stature to try and intimidate the culprit because he’s convinced of their guilt (all of the evidence points to them, after all!).  Additionally, he’ll be harsher on the subordinate officers on scene, as well, yelling at them and ordering them around as if it was second nature to him.

He’s just very much on edge and uncharacteristically prone to snapping, like a certain K-9 unit.  The junior officers steer clear of him as much as possible when he’s like this, not wanting to get yelled at.

Edgeworth has to scold him and remind him that he needs to keep his act together if they want to get this villain locked up.

This poor man gets absolutely no sleep as he juggles between spending as much time with you in the hospital during your short stay there.

He looks exhausted and worn down whenever he’s at the hospital, just holds onto your hand like it’s his lifeline.

After he gets the call that you’ve woken up, he rushes down to the hospital after picking up a bouquet of discounted flowers.  Cries upon seeing you really are all right and scoops you into a hug, careful of your injuries (but not mindful of the bouquet, which he crushes, oops).

Once the conviction is handed down, Gumshoe sweeps you out of the courtroom and back home.

He is very big on comfort cuddles and will probably take the first day afterwards off just to spend it sleeping and cuddling in bed with you.

Will make you weenies and attempt to make any of your other favorite foods (or try to!  they’re always made with love!).

He picks you up from work and is just always escorting you places, wanting to be there for you in case something like that ever happens again.  His worry slowly eases as things stay normal, though, but he’ll keep up with it as long as you need to feel safe.

Probably encourages you to maybe take a self-defense class or at least let him teach you some moves from police training for some peace of mind in the future.

Miles Edgeworth.

Prosecutor Edgeworth remains focused on finding the truth, as always, but with a greater urgency because he needs to get to the bottom to what happened to you.

Is thoroughly convinced that the defendant committed this heinous crime, hurting you in the process, but he does his best to not let his biases color the investigation.

The more evidence he finds, the more convinced he becomes that the police have the correct individual.

And thus, the colder he becomes toward the suspect in question as he engages them in games of logic.  Trying to find holes in their narratives and logic.

Despite looking like he’s keeping it together, those close to him can tell that he’s having a rough time.  The furrow between his brow is deep and he tends to stare off, lost in thought more regularly.  

As much as he hates not being able to be with you in the hospital, he needs this investigation to be overseen with great care.

When he is there the first night, he simply stares at you feeling utterly helpless.

Once the first day of the trial is finished and he checks his phone to see a notice that you’ve woken up, he makes his way to the hospital posthaste.

The sentimentalities come after he makes sure you are absolutely okay and hears what happened from you.  Presses a gentle kiss to your brow as he brushes some hair out of your face, promising you that justice will be served.

He makes it very clear to the defense that there will be no badgering of the witness tolerated, given the fact that you came directly from the hospital to testify.  He’s not happy about it, but a decisive witness is the key to winning this case.

Afterwards, the two of you go home together and he just… holds you.  It takes you a while to realize it, but he’s crying.  It’s a call that’s too close for comfort, another loved one potentially being ripped away from him.  Leaving him behind.  Unbearable.

Dotes on you afterwards, despite his job taking such a high priority in his life he’ll make as much time for you as you request.

Touchier than usual for a time afterwards, it’s reassuring to the both of you.  You may even be able to squeeze out a bit of PDA from him.

Will scold you at any hint of self-sacrificial behavior going forward, not wanting you to risk yourself like that again.

Encourages you to get therapy and recommends you to his therapist, wants to make sure that you heal from the trauma and is there for you every step of the way.

Simon Blackquill.

Simon has suffered too much loss, he takes this crime against you.  Because he could have lost you, too.  And that’s unacceptable.

Really, he takes this whole ordeal very hard personally.  Protecting the ones he loves is one of his most deeply held and important core values.

He feels like he’s deeply failed you (the one he loves) on that front.

Given the suspect’s psychological background and the evidence, he’s quick to figure out that this is, indeed, his culprit.

You think he’s bad in the courtroom?  He’s hell in the interrogation room.  Psychological manipulation and intense, drawn out interrogations to try and break down the suspect or trick him into confessing or slipping up.

He is merciless and all steely edges, there is no ‘good cop’ to save this cretin.  The threats are less empty than usual…

Enjoys making them squirm a bit too much, it’s honestly a way for him to take out his own frustration.

By the time you’ve come to, the case is already closed.  A single day in court is all it took.  He spent the first day in interrogation, but doing so allowed for him to be there for you consistently not long after.

Simon’s by your side, arms crossed over his chest as he stares off into space—lost in thought.  He doesn’t notice you’re awake immediately and you get to see that he’s lost in thought.

He looks like hell.  He’s got bags under his eyes and the stains on his face seem more pronounced than before.

After the nurses and doctors run their tests, he’s quick to hold onto your hand once you’re alone once again.

“Tsk.  Don’t do something so brainless ever again.  I won’t forgive you if you do.”

You both know he would’ve done the same in your situation though.  And you sense there’s some underlying meaning behind his words that isn’t directed at you.

He becomes like a shadow afterwards, a bit too reminiscent of an overbearing mother hen with her chicks.  However, he’s simultaneously emotionally distant.  It’s a strange, contrasting combination and it can be confusing to navigate with him.

If you weren’t learning swordplay with him before, you are now!  He passes on his iaijutsu technique onto you.

Tries to find the humor and encourages you in his own snarky way.  It’s familiar and comforting in its own and he lives for seeing more of your smile.

Takes a few days off work to spend time with you, has his arms wrapped around you as much as he can and treats you to as much comfort food takeout as you want.  It’s the least he can do...

Athena conducts a couple of therapy sessions with the two of you.  She’s the only person he trusts enough with you and his own feelings.  It really helps clear up that emotional distance element.

[girl-in-the-tower]

SWITCHY EMOJI I CAN'T SEEM TO FIND FOR AGATHA, VITA, DIANA, THEO AND KORE. PLEASE.

OK, SO LET ME YELL ABOUT THE WITCH AND THE BEAST AU THAT LIVES RENT FREE IN MY HEAD.

Thank you for the ask!! ❤

Vita is basically Phanora Kristoffel, lol.

Joking, kinda. Basically to take things in order, I imagine Diana, Agatha and Vita as one team, and Theo and Kore as their own team within the Order of Magical Resonance which is a group by magic, for magic and of magic. They deal with all sort of odds jobs that involve the misuse of magic, except that they are by no means a legal organization. Their members are without a doubt all rather odd, but they get the job done at least.

TW: dark themes under the cut

Vita Dies

A powerful necromancer, who also happens to be a witch. She’s of an old family that specializes in this craft. A beautiful but deadly woman who practices the art legally and ethically wherever it is permitted. Because witches in TW&TB live longer than normal humans nobody is sure for how long she has been alive. She deeply enjoys being cryptic and teasing towards mortals and mages alike, though for the most part seems to be aligned with the interests of the Order.

Her connection with the Order is shrouded in mystery, though many speculate it has to do with another young mage who joined with her at the time. The boy looks ghoulish and sinister, and seems to be suffering from the effects of a Witch Curse being placed on him. Vita denies being the witch in question. However she does seem to be responsible for the young Undead that follows the ghoulish boy around. It seems that the two were brothers once, but upon his death the older brother asked Vita to revive his by using necromancy. Since the law permits first-grade relatives to make such decisions she agreed to it, because she was impressed by his insistence even after she informed him of the consequences. 

She runs her Undead on auto so they have full consciousness and can make their own decisions. She makes sure to maintain them regularly so their bodies don’t decay or their souls lose their humanity. They are practically indistinguishable from regular humans, which is due thanks to her status as a witch imbuing her with more magic than a regular mage would possess. 

Her mage makes her extremely strong, but she prefers to leave the fighting to her servants. Still if need be, the cursed runes will appear on her body like in the case of any witch and she will not hold back at all. A witch’s power is fearsome after all so she usually uses it only if her servants find themselves overwhelmed.

She also has ties to another young mage whose fiancee she revived after the woman was killed due to a magical beast going haywire. The two have a very tense relationship and rarely come into contact, the only connection between them being the young woman who acts as Vita’s Undead servant.

In this AU she would most likely go by her full name instead, so everybody would call her Iovita.

She is currently in a relationship with the young ghoulish boy who asked to revive his younger brother, and who also happens to be her apprentice. Because a witch’s kiss can temporarily dispel the curse, her lover switches between his human form and his cursed form. She says she prefers his cursed form, because it is more “bewitching”. 

She is usually called in for missions involving necromancy or strong magical opponents. 

She avoids contact with the Paladin Corps since they are the natural enemies of witches.

This is what she would wear in this AU:

Agatha Voisin

A young woman who asked to be the witch Iovita’s apprentice. She is a normal mage in most aspects with a penchant for dangerous alchemical potions and poisons. Very little is known about her life prior to meeting her Mistress but according to her, she’s an orphan whose family was murdered by a witch, so she sought to apprentice under one in order to learn how to kill them. 

She’s rather quiet and contemplative, and her demeanour towards others is very much influenced by Iovita’s own attitude. Though, while she tried being mysterious and confident she comes off as more awkward and aggressive. She especially does not like her fellow apprentice and the witch’s lover, though seems to be get on well with her Undead. 

While, she does not seem to have any talent at necromancy she is quite good at corpse maintenance, being able to stitch together most parts and organs with relative ease. She finds this sort of job fulfilling since she can see to he duties in peace.

She did not plan on getting attached to Iovita in the slightest, but since the witch has always looked after her as her own, she couldn’t help but become soft. She claimed that she took Agatha in because her logic of seeking out a witch master in order to kill another witch amused her greatly, so she agreed to teach the young girl whatever she can learn. That happened when Agatha was barely 14 years old so ever since then she’s considered Iovita her family.

Her magic is quite strong, though she’s terrible at close quarters combat preferring to cast spells from a distance. She usually likes it when they are given jobs that require sleath since she’s good at that.

The witch she’s hunting is a powerful one, who is said to kidnap people and cook them in her cauldron before eating them bones and all. She claims that she witness her family being devoured, before the witch released her saying that “there still needs for time to pass before the meat is tender enough.” Agatha thinks this means that the witch expects her to return and that’s when she’ll finish her off. 

Before meeting Iovita she lived together with another mage who was able to commune with the spirits of the dead. She still calls on him since he’s a very crafty man with many connections who can procure her all sort of objects.

This is what she would wear in this AU:

Diana Arrow

A young Undead under the control of Iovita. She used to be a common mage who was involved in the care and conservation of magical beasts, before one of them went haywire and killed her. Though she was able to receive some care at the hospital her wounds were too severe and she died of blood loss and complications, but not before making a deal with a witch who agreed to bring her back as an Undead. The reason behind her choice, despite knowing that souls resurrected cannot be reborn, is that she wanted to see her fiance one last time and apologize to him. 

She’s a quiet woman and loyal to her witch, carrying out her orders to the letter without a single complaint. Because she’s put on auto she was able to retain her consciousness and original personality, so her connection to her lover was not severed. Like most witch’s Undead she is very capable and skilled and takes care of the physical stuff her Mistress cannot be asked to do. 

Her weapon of choice is a pair of magically infused brass knuckles that have been gifted to her by her Mistress. She’s become rather proficient at handling them due to training sessions with her Mistress’ other Undead servant. 

Her fiance, a fellow mage like her, was horrified to see her brought back from the dead at the cost of her soul entering the Void. It took a long while for them to patch things up again, and it mostly worked because he was also glad to see her return back to him, though he never wants to admit to this since it would mean putting his own selfishness above her soul.

When she’s not away on missions at her witch’s request she looks after magical beasts or spends time with her fiance. He’s a shrewd man who is trying to convince her to abandon Iovita since he believes nothing good can come from associating with her. He’s currently in the possession of a grimoire that offers him witch-like powers in exchange for killing the person dearest to him, so Diana sacrifices herself every time so he can pay the price. Because being a witch’s Undead makes her impervious to death, she resurrects almost immediately every time, though it doesn’t make it easier on him. 

Since she’s a good fighter, she’s able to depose of most enemies before Iovita has to interfere. With beasts she tries to knock them out instead of killing them since she cares deeply for their well-being. 

She hides the fact that she’s an Undead from most people, since few places consider it a legal practice. Though her lover has once proposed that they be Undead together, she rejected the idea. She wants him to be reincarnated and live a peacefully life even if that means they’ll never be able to meet again.

This is what she would wear in this AU:

Theo Yule

A seasoned mage and a long time member of the Order. He joined them in his youth after he ran away from home due to a falling out with his family. He is not a very social man, preferring to keep to his own tasks and matters. It makes him somewhat at odds with the rest of the Order, but since his work has always been exemplary, few find it possible to complain.

He mostly does solo work, handling cases that involve the mishandling of magical artifacts like grimoires and such. As an expert in the field his advice is always sought before people proceed with their investigation. He owns several of them as well, and carries a suitcase around with him when on jobs that contain most of the tools he requires.

He’s very much like a stereotypical noir cop with his alcohol abuse and smoking habit and rudeness, treating others very contemptuously whenever he speaks to them. He seems to have a very particular dislike for rich people and those well off. 

Because of his quite nature and tall stature he intimidates a lot of people. 

In this version he would only go by Theo, forgoing his last name entirely.

He’s been tasked by the Order to look after a young girl with an unusual situation which requires constant monitorization. He was against the idea at first but with time he grew somewhat fond of her. They have become something of a family and though she assists him on his cases he always makes sure to shield her from actual danger and gore. He would prefer it if she lived a normal life, far away from this chaos but given he peculiar condition he knows it’s impossible.

His attachment to the girl has started to make the Order wonder if it came down to it he’d abandon his beliefs and ideals to stand by her side, but even Theo isn’t sure of the truth behind this notion. Though deep down he feels like he would.

This is what he would wear in this AU:

Kore Hightower

A young girl of indeterminate origins who also happens to be a vessel for a witch. Kore can’t remember anything about her life before she was transformed into a human host for and by the creature. According to several sources she might have been part of magical ritual which involved human sacrifice along with the rest of the family, though it is unknown just to what end. She’s been a host for around a year or two it had been estimated, during which she was known as the “Strangling Witch” for the way she would choose to kill her victims. 

She was freed from that control by the Order who unable to extract the essence of the creature from her, decided to keep her under surveillance and make use of her abilities instead. Though the creature has been sealed inside, she still can access some modicum of its power making her a formidable foe to non-witches.

She’s a novice in magic and it does not come easily to her so her guardian decided to teach her some basic spells and self-defense techniques in case of emergencies. She assists him on his cases partly because she wants to feel useful, partly because she wants to atone for her actions while under possession.

Though she can’t remember the period she was under the creature’s control she still feels imense guilt for her actions. Every year she goes to the cemetery where the victims are buried to pay her respects and ask for forgiveness. Because nobody but the Order knows who was behind the killings, people have no idea who she really is and merely see her as a pious girl. She avoids talking with the locals there out of guilt.

During her time as the Strangling Witch she killed around 38 people, though the number is thought to be likely much higher.

Her honest and kind nature makes her get along quite easily with others, though she has trouble getting close to them, since she feels like she doesn’t deserve to be happy or loved after all that she’s done. She’s recently befriended a young and kindhearted man whose rich family hired her guardian to take care of some business relating to magic. The two became fast friends and even perhaps more, but Kore is hesitant to explore that possibility since she doesn’t know if the creature can or cannot take control of her again. The two do keep in contact through phone though and even go on dates together occasionally but have yet to define just what exactly sort of relationship they have.  

She gets along really well with the Undead under the employ of a fellow Order member, though she seems unaware of their true nature. 

This is what she would wear in this AU:

[a-libra-writes]

SFW Alphabet - Tyrion Lannister

bro ive done nothing but be tired, binge peaky blinders and write whatdayisit

this was a request!! if you havent read the books by now plz consider it bc this man is a treasure

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tyrion loves giving you all sorts of affection, letting you and others know how much he adores you. When you’re sitting side by side he’ll touch your hand and often kiss it, glad when you lean in for a proper kiss. In the privacy of your chambers, he’s always comforted when you two snuggle up and chat, read a book or just silently enjoy each other’s company. It’s the sort of peace he never thought he’d enjoy. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Once someone earns his trust and better, admiration, Tyrion proves himself to be a loyal and capable friend. He appreciates someone with wit and empathy, and once Tyrion is close enough with someone to trust them with his thoughts, he’ll find himself leaning on that friendship for his sanity many times over. He’ll get more sentimental about it the longer it goes on, seeing as he often feels alone in his thoughts.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Tyrion adores your hugs and closeness, especially when you initiate it. Any sort of cuddling is good - wrapped up in your arms, leaning against you, you resting on him, or both of you sitting up and relaxing against a small mountain of pillows. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He always secretly thought of a family, one of his own that accepted him, but it seemed so far away. Now that your relationship with him is a reality, he can’t believe how lucky he is and thanks whatever gods were responsible for allowing this happiness. He’d absolutely want a family with you, in time, and would protect you fiercely. 

Considering cooking and cleaning has always been done for him, Tyrion isn’t experienced in either. Truthfully, he’s a bit messy, especially at his desk area, which has always been a small disaster zone. Sometimes you tidy up, only to come back the next evening and notice there’s a new stack of books and a slew of papers everywhere. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would be avoidant of it, not wanting to accept the fact the relationship was coming to an end. Eventually Tyrion knew he’d have to do it, and he’d speak to you privately, making sure you both had dinner and wine first. He’d break it to you gently and matter of factly, explaining how he came to this conclusion - if he figured you’d be happier this way, or you had just become someone he couldn’t understand anymore, he feel he would have no choice.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Even if he likes to play at being a free-wheeling man, he’s always wanted to have a comfortable, happy domestic life. Tyrion figured that was a pipe dream for years. While he may have fallen for you, unless there was some official arrangement, he’d have reservations asking for marriage. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Tyrion has always been gentle and considerate with you, as you’re incredibly important to him. Even when he feels you may not be approaching something the right way, he’d discuss it with you logically or calmly explain his side of things. Physically he doesn’t treat you like you're fragile, nor would he ever imagine physically harming you. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He always appreciates your hugs and holds you tight whenever you want one. If you want to be held, he’ll do so, stroking your back and asking what’s on your mind. Honestly, Tyrion appreciates any sort of physical affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He thinks it first before considering saying it, especially since he doesn’t want to scare you away. Tyrion would consider your actions and words carefully, wanting to be sure that you felt it as well. He’d prefer it if you said it first, but after a while he can’t help himself and it just slips out in a fumbling mess. He’d have to sigh, start over and give you a proper heartfelt confession. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Tyrion’s jealousy often manifests in sullenness and over-analyzing whoever is making eyes at you, or worse, thinking they can flirt without him being aware. If he’s truly bothered, he’ll mosey his way over to you and give them an insult hidden in a joke, hoping you’ll laugh at it. He absolutely trusts you, it’s other men that make him nervous. He’s seen and known the rest of them, so.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He has all sorts of kisses ready for you. Sweet ones for waking up in the morning, more passionate ones for the evening, quick ones during the day so you know he appreciates you always. Since your hand is the easiest to reach, especially when you’re both in public, he often kisses your fingers. When you’re sitting or lounging together, he’ll prefer your neck and lips. Note that if you’re sensitive or ticklish anywhere, he will find it and use it against you with a devilish grin.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Tyrion’s comfort level with children depends on their age. He’s always worried he’ll drop a baby or they’ll somehow be fearful of him, so he tends to avoid the much younger ones - unless it was his own, of course. Children tend to be unruly and speak whatever pops into their head, uncouth or not, so he gets along best with older ones. He’s a doting uncle to his good niece and nephew, after all, and he’s admittedly weak to more shy, out-of-place kids. As a father, he’d be just as kind-hearted, but he’d love to have a witty child to teach and have clever little talks with. Teenagers are too sullen for his taste, but he’s patient with them and seems to know just how to speak with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

If he’s hungover or turning in after a late night - it’s usually both of those things - he’ll have found his way mostly under the covers, usually resting on your chest or your shoulder. He’ll grumble when you move away to get ready, but he’d fall asleep again quickly, especially after feeling your calming touch. He’s more of a late morning to early afternoon riser, but if there’s important business, he’ll pull himself up with even more grumbling and complaints. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Tyrion is naturally a night owl, and once the sun is down, he suddenly feels far more awake. He’ll spend his evenings with a cup of wine, his desk full of papers and books and preferably you sitting with him in the room. Even if you two are just enjoying the silence in your own ways, it’s immensely reassuring to have your presence with him. If work is truly taxing him, he’d ask for your opinion on several decisions, wanting to know if he was doing the right thing. Eventually you’d have to set his quill down and stubbornly keep asking him to come to bed. Even when you’re curled up under the covers, he might still keep talking about whatever treaty he was working on - in that case, shutting him up with a kiss deep always works.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As much as Tyrion presents himself as elusive and full of secrets to strangers and enemies, he’s desperate to connect with someone emotionally. He tried to be his charismatic and standoffish self with you, evading all sorts of questions, but as your friendship - and his feelings - deepened, it was too difficult to keep up the charade. Once Tyrion felt safe with you, once he trusted you, he was a goner. He couldn’t help but tell you things that troubled him, especially memories from the past. It wouldn’t spill out at once, but you’d start to tell when he was in a morose mood and needed to talk. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You know that for all the patience he has to present in court, Tyrion hates the injustice he often has to watch or play a hand in. His family especially tries on him, and you’re there to support him as best as you can. When it comes to you, Tyrion struggles to actually get upset. It’s not that you do anything to anger him regularly; he just thinks the absolute world of you, and he downplays any negative traits you might have. If he were truly upset about something, he may not even tell you about it. He’d just be exasperated for a day then move on. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Tyrion knows all sorts of your favorite things, like perfume, preferred flowers, what you like to eat and drink, the kind of jewelry you wear depending on the occasion, dress color and materials … all things he’s bought to make you happy both when you were courting and married. He’s excellent at picking out material gifts, even if it’s “simpler” things like books and embroidery thread, even instruments. Nothing is too good for you. 

In general Tyrion has a good memory, so he’d also know things you’ve told him in confidence. They were important enough to you to tell him, so naturally he’d remember. He may even remember things you don’t recall talking about. After a while you stopped being so surprised when Tyrion would bring up a detail or person you mentioned months or years ago.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Even to this day, he can’t get the sweet memory of your confession out of his head. Even when it was happening, he was so sure he was dreaming, or it was some terrible misunderstanding. He remembers a lot about that day, because he’s replayed it in his head so much. The way your eyes sparkled and your cheeks blushed, how the sun made your hair glow and the way your dress gently moved in the breeze. When he’s having an especially dark day, recalling such a fond memory does wonders for his soul. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tyrion takes absolutely no chances with you. He’d want to replace your guards with men loyal to him. Even guards from your House would be vetted and personally spoken to. He’d want no less than four with you, which you felt was a little excessive, but he’d lower it to two at your request … with about five you weren’t aware of, hiding behind shadows and corners. This was especially true in King’s Landing. Tyrion wouldn’t back down on providing you numerous loyal and strong men; he wasn’t about to let his wife waltz around vipers without adequate protection.

He wouldn’t expect the same protection from you, since he had his own men, but he didn’t account for the way you protected him with words. You’d stand up for his honor and defend him against all manner of people, against charges great and small. Tyrion couldn’t believe someone would go such lengths to protect him, and it made him feel even more blessed to have you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He takes special note of any important dates and anniversaries, setting aside time for a date and having it nicely planned out. If business couldn’t wait, he’d make sure there was some way to make it up to you, guaranteed. Tyrion wants you to feel appreciated and loved always, and he’d gladly tell all of King’s Landing to fuck off for your sake … if only that didn’t end in terrible consequences.

As stated before, he’s excellent with gifts and that extends to his everyday actions. He never fails to give you hello and goodbye kisses, hold your hand, compliment a new style you try, and so forth. He isn’t flattering or settled into a boring routine, it’s all genuine. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You were already aware of the rumors surrounding Tyrion’s machinations, but now you were seeing the cogs turn in real time. More often than not, Tyrion didn’t tell you of his plans. He didn’t want you involved, and you noticed he’d assume the worst of situations: The amount of times he worried that something would end in your gory death was too much. You knew that his fears weren’t totally unfounded, but you still wished he would let you in on some of the schemes so you could have a better idea of what was happening, or more importantly, so you could help.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

As much as he plays aloof about his condition, he isn’t blind or an idiot. He dresses in fine clothes and jewelry and keeps himself well-groomed to  maintain that perfect, presentable Lannister facade, as much as his father and sister feel like he’s just a joke in silk. You often spot him fussing with doublets or looking irritably at his scar in a mirror, and his soothes him greatly when you help smooth out his hair and clothes. He’d have trouble accepting any genuine compliments you gave him, so sometimes just being caring was enough. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

As if Tysha wasn’t bad enough, Tyrion would truly suffer if something happened to you. He may not even recover completely, going into a deep, angry and seemingly endless depression. He’s very aware this will happen if you die from sickness or the gods forbid, from one of his enemies, so it’s just another reason he’s so protective. Even when you two have to be apart because of travel, he’ll count on your letters and the ones he sends to you to keep him going. Even if it would be dangerous to you, he’d selfishly wish you were by his side. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Tyrion likes it when you two wear something that’s maybe not very fancy, but it has some special meaning to you. Examples would be the first dress he ever bought you, with embroidery of your House in your favorite color, or a pretty and simple jade ring from Yi Ti just because you liked reading about it so much. He’d have a little sculpture on his desk from some joke between you two, or even a little charm you wove for fun, very sentimental things like that. Things he could look at or touch and remember the smiles you had over it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s had enough baseless cruelty and pettiness from his family that he just can’t tolerate it in other people. Those using their status to abuse people below them are also just as despicable, and he has little patience for a partner who would rest on their family’s status and wealth and do little to improve themselves. Lack of wit and cruelty are probably the biggest turn-offs, though.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Even if he falls asleep peacefully, resting against you, somehow he ends up under the covers or halfway across the bed or in a position that looks very uncomfortable to you - and if his groaning and stretching when he wakes up is anything to go by, it probably is. You’re certain Tyrion can’t sleep still to save his life. It also humors you how he struggles to sleep on anything but a very fine bed and silk sheets, but you don’t tease him about that … much.