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#(and i dont feel any of this intensely enough for explaining it to be WORTH IT)
many-gay-magpies · 4 months
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i am becoming increasingly sure as time goes on that my gender is Not Cis but its like. not enough for me to do anything like god forbid tell my parents. not bc they wouldn't be ACCEPTING but because i don't feel like they'd UNDERSTAND and trying to explain it to them would be too much work when i A) barely even know how to describe it to MYSELF and B) feel comfortable enough being described as a woman/girl/female/whatever. like if im fine enough being called a girl and im comfortable in my body and don't yet feel a need to use pronouns other than she/her then what's the point of trying to explain to my mom that i find the concept of gender pretty much inapplicable to myself/kind of confining and i feel more like an amorphous forest creature than a Girl and i wouldnt mind being perceived more masculine sometimes by society at large and gender questions on forms make me uncomfortable because i'm never totally sure what to answer.
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desire-mona · 5 months
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siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.
(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)
- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.
- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.
- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.
- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.
- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.
- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.
- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!
- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.
- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.
- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.
- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)
- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)
- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.
this is the gender part
never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!
also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.
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bunnihearted · 6 months
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i rlly do wanna die tho. i am broken, i will always be broken. if i'd even have any kind of chance to live somewhat normally w this disorder, i'd need years of extensive therapy. rn even tho im begging for help, they all dismiss me nd say they cant do anything for me. im irrepairably nd fundamentally broken. no aspect in my life is smooth or good. i cant do anything, im completely useless nd worthless. my entire existence is pointless. i dont make an impact on anything or anyone nd if i disappeared rn it wouldnt make a difference. it wouldnt even be noticed. it's just so frustrating bc im so fkn broken. no matter how hard i try to explain myself or try to connect w ppl it never works. im way too broken to be understood. im too much too handle in the way that im not worth it, im not worth any amount of patience or effort. im not worthy enough of salvaging things with. if i do one thing, bam im completely written off. whatever i do, whatever i say i remain unheard. it's been like that my entire life. nobody ever truly sees what i do or why i do it. nd that is more alienating nd isolating than anything. sure i can have shallow conversations but my soul craves deeper things than that. but thats not possible bc i am broken. whenever i think of myself nd my life nd how little i have i feel such intense dread for the profound loneliness that hangs over me everyday that i just wanna die to escape it. even if i did get therapy, how tf could they make me not lonely? how tf could they reverse all the damage thats been done to me to ruin me this way? i am a lost cause. the fight i'd have to keep up for the rest of my life..... is not worth it. i dont want to. bc the one thing i want is the one thing i'll never have bc im too broken for it. and truth be told if i cant have that i dont want anything. nothing even comes close to it and nothing can make up for the lack of it. i dont find anything worth living for. nothing. the only thing that keeps me tethered to this existence i was never meant to come into is the overwhelming guilt of the grief i'll cause my mother. i just cannot bring myself to do that to her. but i want to. i want to...... it doesnt matter what anyone says. no empty positivity platitudes matter to me. i just want someone next to me, holding my hand, listening to me, not judging me, not hating me or getting mad or disappointed with me for being what i am. i'll never have that. because i am too broken!!!!!!! i am broken, that's rlly all i can say. there isnt even rlly any treatment for this disorder lol, it's just all empty promises. i'll never heal this. it's impossible to heal or treat. and it took away the thing i want the most... companionship. no one can ever know me and not want to turn away from me. im doomed to a life being suffocated by the darkness crying hugging my knees rocking back nd forth and dying a slow death all on my own with no one to hold me and thats that on that
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salomeslashes · 1 year
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hiii i saw you mentioned being a librarian into horror and was wondering if you had any recs for gothic or haunted house books? i dont need a lot of action i just want a superbly eerie vibe.
Yes absolutely! I feel like two of my favorite recent haunted house books have a considerable amount of action but I will mention them anyway, just...down at the bottom for you to ignore if you want. Eerie vibes incoming!
The Stradivarius (by Rae Knowles) - A woman moves with her new husband into the house she inherited from her father, who was murdered when she was a child, and spooky things begin to happen right away. Is her house haunted, or is something more sinister going on? And what happened to her father's priceless violin, which hasn't been seen since his death? Vibes everywhere!
Mexican Gothic (by Silvia Moreno-Garcia) - It's been a little bit since I read this one, so the plot is slightly less fresh, but I remember every bit about how it made me feel. The world of this story is so rich and the characters are absolutely fascinating. I highly recommend it for that gothic vibe, especially if you (like me) want to read more stories by and about people of color.
You Should Have Left (by Daniel Kehlmann) - This one is perfect for people who love House of Leaves in theory but not in practice. Short and told in a style that's almost stream-of-consciousness, the narrator of the story is a writer who is staying in a remote cabin with his wife and young daughter...but something is just...off about the house. Hard to explain much more without giving it all away, but it's so creepy and so cool. Also, very short. I read this in an hour.
A Guest in the House (by Emily Carroll) - This one is a graphic novel, which I hope is fine! I loved this one. The art was gorgeous and it was legitimately so haunting. Aching and ambiguously supernatural. I screamed about this one from the rooftops when I read it.
The more intense stuff:
How to Sell a Haunted House (by Grady Hendrix) - Terrifying, but also heartbreaking. I loved this one a lot, and the second I finished it I sent an ebook copy to my brother. Lots of family feels, and some really horrifying puppets. Hendrix consistently kills it as far as horror with heart. I highly recommend it.
Tell Me I'm Worthless (by Alison Rumfitt) - I cannot stress enough how brutal and hard to read this book is (the author included a content warning at the start and I highly recommend heeding it), but it's also (somewhat ironically) deeply worth it, if you ask me. This is a haunted house story, yes, but the ghost in the house is fascism. As a trans person, as a queer person, as a human being, this book wrecked me.
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cydie · 2 months
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////////////////////thinking
ever since last friday, i have been actively battling a very intense pressure in my chest
i wish i could describe it in words
its like the feeling you get just before you cry, coupled with the feeling you get when you get blindsided by something incredibly hurtful like finding out a loved one died or your SO cheated etc
it came on so suddenly? and it started as we were driving back from mum's
trying so hard to remember if something triggered it but as usual i can't seem to access bad memories
the last week has been somewhat of a blur
this feeling really blindsided me. it's the most painful, sinking feeling within my chest and it hurts so bad i feel a ringing in my ears
after tuesday therapy, i sobered up so i could meet matt at the airport
i was okay for a little bit, when i got the apple danish
i can't figure out what this is
but i do notice that matt has the ability to alter it the most
he is able to make my chest hurt less and i think when he hugs me or shows me any kindness/concern i feel safe to cry?
theory 1 is that this is the suppressed hurt that has come from this relationship and its hitting me like a brick - which would explain why matt is able to soothe it the most, bc healing all of the hurts i've suffered would require kindness and validation
but i think its an amalgamation of everything right now
the main thing i think is the feeling unsure about my relationship
bc copping 2 years worth of relationship anxiety must definitely mess with my head
and if there's not enough reassurance to make it right, it would make sense that things would catch up to me
the most overarching overwhelming feeling is the feeling of just not wanting to live
i dont want to die per se, but i genuinely do not want to live this life it sucks
i must genuinely love him so much bc why else would i still be here?
but i also figured that once our lease was over, he'd take the chance to split, because 2 weeks ago he stayed because it was logistically easier and he didn't want to tell me bc he was avoiding it
and i look at everything in the house right now and there's so many memories in everything i have
i'm insanely kicked down right now. i don't have the brain power to handle change. i look at everything i'd have to deal with and i KNOW i do not have it
i am immensely lacking emotional support in my life atm
and i DON'T KNOW where this intense feeling is coming from and how to deal with it
do i need to cry?? do i need to scream cry until i don't feel it anymore???
do i feel chronically lonely in my relationship??
i have never been so emotionally unstable in my life
i'm so scared and worried that i won't be fine tomorrow bc right now i think i've either distracted myself enough or suppressed it enough
or maybe i'm so tired from feeling my body has numbed it out
either way i have enough energy to pretend i'm okay, except i am walking a very fine line
yup thats all the words i have rn i'm explained out
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another-stark-sub · 3 years
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“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine
Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn
- - -
“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”
Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”
You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”
The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”
“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 
You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.
“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”
It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 
Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”
You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”
He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”
“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.
You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 
~ - ~
Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 
You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 
It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 
It was addicting. 
“Sir, I have the calculations.”
“Hit me.”
“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”
Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”
“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”
Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”
Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”
When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”
“You don’t need to, Friday.”
“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”
“Friday,” Tony warned. 
There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?
“Sir?”
“Yes, Fri?”
“Would you like me to play examples for you?”
He blinked. “Examples?”
“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”
It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 
“Play examples.”
Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 
“Are you in love with him?”
Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”
“Of course I am.”
“-stop playback.”
“He’s Tony Sta-”
“Playback stopped.”
Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 
“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”
“Then, why don’t you tell him?”
“... He’s Tony Stark.”
Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”
Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”
Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 
Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 
“Maybe you should ask her.”
There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”
~ - ~
The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”
You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 
“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”
You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”
Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”
You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 
Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 
“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 
Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 
Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”
You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”
A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”
It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”
“Among other reasons?”
Other reasons? 
You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”
Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”
He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 
But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 
You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 
You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 
It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 
But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 
While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.
Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.
Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 
He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 
You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 
His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.
“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 
He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”
Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”
His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”
“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”
“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”
“You literally saved the universe.”
“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”
You glared at him. 
He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”
“Wouldn’t want you to.”
“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”
“And I will learn to help you.”
“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”
“I’d rather have you anyway.”
He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”
He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”
You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Friday recording right now?”
“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”
Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”
“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”
Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”
Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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corpse x reader headcanon where corpse talks about how his s/o has severe abandonment issues and is really clingy and he doesnt mind it despite haters saying otherwise?
Oooh this is gonna be a bit angsty, just a heads up. Still, I hope you enjoy it ~ 💕
Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fear of abandonment, Past relationship trauma
- You'd never had someone like this
- Someone to talk to about anything
- Someone to hold your hand through everything
- Someone to feel for you and you for them
- You never thought you'd find that someone either
- You had given up on the hopes long ago so you reluctance at the beginning of your relationship with Corpse was completely understandable
- You were quick to speak on your concerns, all those little demons that arise in your head whenever you step in a new relationship of any kind, especially romantic
- The way you grew attached to people so quickly and so strongly could easily be used against you one way or another
- And, more often than not, the people you found yourself in a relationship with used it to their advantage, not giving a crap that they were hurting you in the process
- It always seemed to be the same pattern: you met someone, grew attached, became prepared to do anything to avoid losing them (even things you wouldn't typically agree to), they'd use you, they'd leave you and you'd still think it was all your fault
- Getting yourself hurt over and over again didn’t stop you from getting attached to a person just as or even more intensely the next time around
- All you wanted was someone who’d stay
- All you wanted was for people to stop leaving you
- And Corpse was quick to become that someone to you
- Seeing his caring and endearing nature, you immediately started feeling bold, well as bold as you could be after so many falls in your life
- He wasn’t simply sympathetic when you expressed your struggles to him but he also understood them to a new level
- A level close to the one you’ve been on all your life
- That’s why the connection between the two of you was immediately stronger in comparison to any other you may have felt
- Truth be told, there was never really a connection with those people before him, the ones who left you, you just wanted someone by your side and didn’t allow yourself to see your worth to avoid picking the wrong choices
- To you it always seemed like you were the wrong choice
- But still, Corpse chose you, he chose to stay
- Cause he wanted to, cause he loved and cared for you
- That being said, you two have rarely been apart since you got together
- You’ve been joining him on his streams, either just hanging out in the recording room with him or even playing with him and his friends if he manages to convince
- He rarely succeeds though, seeing as how you’re very timid when it comes to his friend group, a shyness you can’t quite explain
- It applies to his stream in general too
- You don’t want to think about how many eyes and ears are observing you when you’re playing 
- And you had every right to be concerned about being so exposed, mostly cause people - jealous people aka haters - used this exposure of yours to look for your flaws and use them to speak negatively of you online
- Luckily, Corpse was quick to catch onto the things being said about you and to say he wasn’t happy about it would be an understatement 
- He refused to let anyone speak ill of you and the comments they were making about you - calling you a clingy, annoying gold-digger - lit a feverous, angry fire in him, rendering him restless until he ultimately faced all those haters behind their screens head-on
- He organized a whole stream to address this issue, delicately explaining the situation, your relationship and your abandonment issues
- He made it clear that what they refer to as ‘clinginess’ to him is the affection he’s always wanted to receive but never thought he would because of how closed-off he is and how little human interaction he gets in his daily life
- “What you call clinginess has turned me into a better person. And who you call an annoying gold digger is the love of my life. So watch yourselves, you can talk shit about me all you want, but one bad word about Y/N is more than enough to set me off. They deserve nothing but the best this world has to offer and they’re most certainly not deserving of all this hate you throw their way because you are unhappy with yourselves”
- Little did he know you were listening to his whole speech, tears brimming your eyes as his words sunk in, repeating in your head over and over again
- It was his promise to never have you hurt, to never break your heart, to never get tired of you
- To never abandon you
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You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome
WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,
I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉
Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.
Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-
Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!
Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.
Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.
Ah... peace and quiet...
...
...why did Lucifer hear crying?
There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.
What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!
“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”
After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.
On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.
Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.
“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”
Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”
“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”
Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.
“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”
Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”
A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”
The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.
Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”
M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”
As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-
“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”
—————
A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.
A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.
“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”
Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.
“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.
“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”
Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.
Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.
“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”
“That’s an alpaca.”
“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”
He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”
The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.
“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”
“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”
——————
“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.
“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.
“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”
Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”
“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”
“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”
M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”
Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”
Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”
The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...
Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”
M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.
...
They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.
Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”
He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.
“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”
M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...
Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”
Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!
“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”
“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”
“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”
“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”
“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”
Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”
He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!
“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.
“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”
As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.
The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.
“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”
“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”
“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”
“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”
Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”
——————
“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”
“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.
L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...
“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.
Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-
L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.
“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”
“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.
Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”
The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!
Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.
“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”
Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”
“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”
“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”
“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”
“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”
Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”
Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”
“Fine by me.”
The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.
Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.
The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.
It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.
Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.
The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.
Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.
“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...
“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.
“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”
Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”
————————
Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...
Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!
I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.
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lemons3ason · 4 years
Text
Shaman King Cheating Headcannons
*Everyone is aged up*
*Dont y’all dare hate on Anna and Jeanne, I fucking ship YohxAnna and RenxJeanne so hard! THEYRE ADORABLE!*
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoh Asakura
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-You knew it was coming eventually, he loved Anna and you but from the start you knew Anna was the only one he would ever truly love.
-Truly it didn’t surprise you when you found them on the couch kissing up a storm.
-Of course it hurt, but you just smiled and walked up to your room to pack your things up in order to leave.
-Yoh rushed into the room to speak with you but when your cold dead eyes stared into his no words could come out of his mouth.
-“Stay healthy and strong Yoh, and don’t break Anna’s heart like you broke mine.”, you whispered staying just out of reach from his touch.
-No matter how much he wanted to speak his voice wouldn’t leave his throat, he looked guilty but you simply hugged him goodbye and whispered, “I fucking hate you, Yoh Asakura.”, before leaving.
-Amidamaru couldn’t even believe what his young master had done but he quietly stood by and watched you leave.
-It was rare to see Yoh cry, but as you walked past the gates of his home he couldn’t help but tremble and sob.
-He was never good at handling people disliking him but never once before did he have someone actually hate and loathe him.
-Yoh knew he wouldn’t get to see you again or apologize for his actions but he truly did love you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horokeu Usui
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-This one hurt a little more then Yoh’s incident, mostly because Pirika was there to witness him cheating on you with some girl from the city.
-His eyes contained nothing but shock and regret when he realized you and Pirika had caught him in the act, he tried to explain but to your surprise it was Pirika herself who slapped him.
-With him now on the ground from the impact of her hand she grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the room so you wouldn’t shed any tears in front of him.
-You broke down in the halls as you were dragged away, the tears wouldn’t stop no matter how much you wiped them away. You didn’t understand why he would do it.
-“Piri...Piri why? I don’t get it. Why did he do it?”, you cried brushing your tears away.
-“I’m not sure hun. I-I wish I knew.”
-Horohoro was always loyal to you, you were his snow bunny, so why? Why would he do it after filling your head with the sweet thoughts of marriage and family?
-You left that night, you didn’t bother answering his calls or texts and according to your spirit partner he pleaded desperately with them to contact you for him.
-You decided to go back to your hometown and refused to associate with him even as he continued to seek you out.
-Even when you blocked him he still sent you voicemails and messages through Pirika’s phone but you wouldn’t forgive him. Not after how heartbroken the betrayal left you.
-“(Y/n), I’m sorry please let me see you so I can explain. I can’t lose you like this, snow bunny please come back!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ren Tao
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-You didn’t except him to ever cheat, you loved him and he idolized you like a goddess so when you found him and Jeanne naked in his office it was hard to stomach.
-“Well I see you’re hard at work my love.”, you spoke just loud enough for them to hear you.
-Jeanne quickly covered up but Ren took his time, he had something on his mind and you were ready to hear it. How much worse could it be, your heart was already broken.
-“(Y/n), we need to end this.”, he simply stated his eyes staring deep into your own glossy hues.
-You always hated his cold glare, you took a deep breath and simply nodded your head, “You fell out of love didn’t you?”, you sighed not waiting for an answer, placing his lunch on his desk before you quietly turned on your heels and left.
-Jun noticed you leaving and smiled brightly at you hugging you as you tried to hide your pain. You were always accepting of others...even if you ended up the most hurt by their actions.
-You whispered goodbye but she didn’t understand why until she walked into Ren’s office to see him and Jeanne.
-You disappeared like nothing, nobody could find you or contact you but when they finally could it was years later and it was Jeanne inviting you to the wedding in an attempt to make amends with you.
-In a way their marriage was a sad day because you never did show up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lyserg Diethel
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-He changed, you knew something was going on when you noticed how cruel he had suddenly became towards you.
-It didn’t surprise you one day when you saw him passionately kissing another woman at the front door of your home.
-You tried to stay calm but your inner rage had consumed your train of thought and your body reacted on its own. Before any of you could understand what had just happened his mistress had been pulled down the stairs by her hair and his cheek swelled from the intense impact of your opened hand.
-“(Y-Y/n)?”, he gasped holding his cheek.
-Your groceries were quickly discarded from your hand and replaced by a gun that was brimming with your Furyoku and oversoul, your pointed it right between his eyes and a dead expression etched itself over your face.
-“If you had a mistress you should’ve just told me that you didn’t love me anymore and left.”, you yelled shoving the stupid engagement ring he had given you into his chest as you released your oversoul and entered your home.
-“W-wait I-I-“
-“Get out of my home Lyserg. If you love her then leave with her I’m not stopping you.”, you growled in disgust as he dared to touch your wrist.
-“(Y/n) don’t do this!”, he warned his common sense suddenly returning as guilt flooded his heart.
-You slammed the door on his face and ignored his cries for you, he knew what he had done and you’d be a fool to even consider forgiving him.
-Your patience had run out and it would never return.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hao Asakura
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-Genuinely you know this man doesn’t care that he’s been caught.
-“Stop blubbering like a child (Y/n), can’t you see you’re not wanted here?”, he’ll growl.
-In a fit of rage you quickly spat back, “Fine if you want a whore as your queen then that’s fine by me! I know my worth and it’s not worth staying by your side!”
-Doesn’t think much of your simple words and continues his enjoyment with the stranger he’s picked up until he realizes your words actually meant something.
-He’s the most yandere and possessive of all the boys.
-Even as you’re crying in pure anger and humility he simply brushes you off and tells you that it’s your fault for walking in when you shouldn’t have.
-When you actually somehow succeed in leaving he’s furious, burning not only the wench that he cheated on you with but also the follower that was supposed to stand guard over you.
-Seeks you out mercilessly killing anyone that stands in his way.
-When he finds you again he’s claiming you his bride regardless if you like it or not, thankfully his family helps protect you and they become your sanctuary until Hao eventually realizes that you were never his because you stopped loving him.
-“Should’ve expected that you would leave me just like everyone else.”, he’d growl feeling sorry for himself.
-“No you just pushed me away, that’s your own flaw.”
148 notes · View notes
bibbawrites · 4 years
Text
She - Carrie Wilson x Female Reader (SMUT 18+)
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Request: girl x girl with Carrie having a bad day cause of Julie and needs to let off the anger with giving the reader an/some orgasm(s)?
Word Count: 1770 words
Summary: after being upstaged by julie at the school spirit rally carrie needs a way to work her anger out, and you are more than happy to be of assistance 
Warnings: sex (obviously), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, use of sex toys, swearing, overstimulation, slight dom
A/N: i finally got the motivation to write this and i dont completely hate it which is good haha sorry for any mistakes in editing, i got a bit lazy and just skim read it while cuddling a kitten lol so if theres any mistakes thats why  also no hate to julie or flynn but obviously carrie’s girlfriend wouldn’t like them and neither does carrie so yeah thats why they get shit on   anyways, hope you enjoy!!!
Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​​ @littlemissaddict​​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​​ @headheartbellarke​​​ @lovesanimals​​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​​ @fandomxreaders​​​​ @ifilwtmfc
“I swear Molina does this shit on purpose, just to piss me off.” Carrie ranted as the two of you walked down the hallway after the spirit rally.
“Do you know how hard I worked on that routine? And she just has to go and upstage me with some stupid fucking hologram act? Which came out of nowhere, might I add.” She continued, and you nodded, not wanting to sat the wrong thing and make it worse. 
You stood back and watched as your girlfriend confronted Julie, rolling your eyes at Nick who decided to step in. He never truly knew how to deal with Carrie. He followed as Carrie walked away and you hurried to catch up, grabbing onto your girfriend’s hand as she repeated her rant from earlier. 
The bell rang as Carrie turned to walk away, pulling you along with her. 
“Where are we going? Science is the other way.” You questioned. Carrie shook her head. 
“We’re not going to science.” She replied, pulling you into a janitors closet and shutting the door behind you. 
“Oh.” You said, understanding the situation. 
Carrie pulled you towards her, your lips crashing against hers. She tasted like she always did, like her favourite peach lipgloss and mint. Kissing Carrie was like the perfect duet, her lips were made to intertwine with yours. 
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Carrie shoving you against the wall, her lips moving from yours to trail down your neck, sucking marks into your skin as she went. 
“Carrie.” You mumbled. “Are we really gonna do this here?” 
She took a step back, eyeing you carefully, before pulling out her phone and pressing it to her ear. 
“Dad? I need you to call the school and excuse me and Y/N for the rest of the day.” She spoke and your eyes widened. You could hear the muffled sound of Carrie’s dad talking on the other end. She bit her lip. 
“It’s a girl problem.” She said after a moment. Her dad replied and a smile appeared on your girlfriend’s face. 
“Yes that kind of girl problem. Poor Y/N is feeling horrible, the cramps are just so bad on the first day of her cycle.” Carrie put on a sympathetic voice and after a moment she gave you a thumbs up and said goodbye to her father before hanging up. 
“How good are you at acting?” She questioned. You shrugged. 
“Decent enough, why?” You replied.
“My dad is coming to pick us up and drop us home at my house. You’re having a really bad period and you need to get some rest.” 
You nodded in understanding, and together you made your way outside, waiting for Trevor to arrive, and once he did you made sure to clutch at your stomach and lean on your girlfriend as she helped you into the car. 
“Do you need anything Y/N?” Trevor asked, as he drove the two of you home. “I can get whatever pads or tampons you need, and I can heat up a heat pack or get medication for your cramps.” 
Your heart swelled at the caring gesture. 
“I should be okay with just a lie down.” You replied. “But I’ll let you know if I need anything. Thank you.” 
“Of course. Anything to make you more comfortable.” Trevor responded as he pulled the car into the driveway. 
“I’ll go get you girls some pizza. I know Carrie loves comfort foods on her period.” He offered. You and Carrie exchanged a look, but agreed, and before you knew it you were flopping down onto your girlfriend’s king sized bed. 
“I feel kinda guilty.” You admitted. Carrie sighed. 
“Me too. Why does he have to be such a good dad?” She groaned. 
“Too late now to backtrack.” You said. Carrie nodded, rolling closer to you and pulling you into her arms. 
“Guess we should just make the most of our time together then.”
An hour and several slices of pizza later and Carrie and you had her whole house to yourselves, with her dad leaving for some meeting that would take several hours. 
Carrie had been staring at the wall for the past 15 minutes and you were starting to get worried about your girlfriend. You moved slightly, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at you. 
“Are you okay?” You questioned. 
“Just thinking about Julie again.” She explained, an annoyed look appearing on her face. 
“You need to forget about her babe. She’s not worth your time.” You stated, but Carrie ignored you, staring back at the wall again. 
“I just can’t believe she upstaged me after all the hard work we put into our performance.” She ranted. You took her hand. 
“If it makes you feel better, I thought that Dirty Candy was better by far.” You said, squeezing her hand. 
“You have to say that, you’re my girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes, but the light blush on her cheeks told you that she appreciated the compliment. You fell into silence for a moment, before an idea popped into your head. 
“Carrie.” You said. 
“What?” She replied, without even looking at you. 
“Remember that time that Flynn called me your bitch and I got so pissed off at her and you worked my anger out with some of the hottest sex we’ve ever had?” You asked. That got her attention, and she turned to look at you. 
“Yeah?” Her eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds. 
“Use me.” You stated. She bit her lip. 
“You sure?” She checked. You nodded. 
“Positive. I’m all yours to do whatever you want to me.” You assured her. 
“In that case...” Carrie sat up, her look suddenly very serious. “Take off your clothes. Now.” 
You obeyed, pulling your Dirty Candy t-shirt and your denim shorts quickly, and after a quick glance at Carrie, stripped your underwear and bra off too. 
“Lie down.” Carrie instructed, and you did as she said. You watched as she moved down her bed and spread your legs, her eyes never once leaving yours. 
She lent down and licked a strip up your pussy and you moaned loudly, not holding back since you knew that Trevor was gone. 
Carrie smirked, before moving to eat you out, her tongue swirling against your clit as she inserted a finger into you. 
“Carrie.” You moaned out, and she grazed her teeth along your clit as a response. 
“Holy shit.” You muttered, tangling your fingers through her hair. 
She added a second finger and your head fell back in pleasure. She really wasn’t holding back. You could feel the familiar feeling of your orgasm pooling in your stomach. 
“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.” You breathed out, and she ignored you, curling her fingers inside you to hit your g-spot. You gasped loudly. 
“Carrie, please.” You moaned. 
“Cum for me baby.” She said, her mouth never leaving your clit, and the vibrations sent you tumbling over the edge, cumming with a loud moan of her name. 
She worked you through your orgasm before moving away, and you shut your eyes to take a moment. The bed dipped as Carrie climbed back onto it, and before you could react she was pressing a vibrator to your already sensitive clit. 
“Carrie, what?” You asked, eyes opening quickly. 
“You didn’t think I’d stop at one, did you?” She teased, pressing the vibrator against you again, causing your already sensitive body to twitch. You bit your lip, unable to respond. She grinned at you. 
“How many orgasms have you had in one go before?” She questioned. 
“Three.” You answered. She paused, thinking. 
“You can do more than that.” She decided, and your eyes widened. You opened your mouth to reply but she pressed the vibrator to your clit again, this time turning the level on the vibrator up. You squirmed, not even having time to warn her before your second orgasm hit. 
Smirking, Carrie left the vibrator on your clit, holding your hips down with her spare hand to stop you from trying to move away. The intense vibration so soon after your second orgasm had you cumming again in what felt like no time. 
“Please no more. I can’t take it.” You begged. Carrie shook her head. 
“Yes you can baby, I know you can.” She assured you. 
“I can’t Carrie, please.” You whined. She paused. 
“One more.” She decided. You whimpered as her fingers entered you once again, stretching you slightly, before she slid them out and slid the vibrator into you. 
You cried out, hot tears spilling down your cheeks as Carrie put her mouth back onto your clit, every little movement sending shudders through your overly sensitive body. 
“Come on baby, one more, you can do it.” Carrie coaxed, her tongue swirling against your clit. She angled the vibrator to hit your g-spot and that was enough to bring you to your fourth orgasm. 
“Good girl.” Carrie praised, removing the vibrator from you. Your body was shaking and your face was wet with tears. You knew you looked like a wreck. 
“I think we should have a bath.” Carrie decided, helping you into the bathroom. 
She helped you to sit on the closed toilet, before starting the bath, adding in your favourite Lush bubble bar that she always kept for when you were over, and some soothing bath soak. Once she was done she turned back to you. 
“I’ll be right back, okay?” She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You just nodded, too exhausted to speak. 
Carrie was back in no time, carrying two pairs of soft pyjamas, and some apple juice with ice. She placed them down on the cabinet before turning the water off on the bath and adding in a bath bomb. She lit the candles surrounding the bath before turning her attention to you. 
“Ready to get in?” She questioned. 
“Yeah, I might need some help though.” You replied, your voice shaky. Carrie grinned, walking over to you and wrapping her arm around your waist to help you over to the bath. She helped you climb in before stripping off her clothes and climbing in with you, sitting herself behind you so that you could lean back against her. 
“Feel better now?” You asked in a soft voice. Carrie pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. 
“I do. Thank you, I love you.” She murmured. 
“I love you too. And anytime, I’ll always be here.” You responded, shutting your eyes as you snuggled against your girlfriend. 
And you meant it. 
143 notes · View notes
curious-menace · 4 years
Note
Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.
SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .
i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah
post asswoop riddlers getting loves
Arkham riddler
He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is  bad news.
I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.
when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.
He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.
he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.
he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long. 
Blacklight Riddler
He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough. 
even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.
he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better. 
He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.
He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.
 if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.
BTAS Riddler
he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.
i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care. 
He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.
he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong. 
if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.
He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.
Original Riddler
this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.
actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”
good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.
he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are. 
he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage  him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.
i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient. 
Telltale riddler
this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs
he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.
after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.
i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.
the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.
its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.  
Zero year riddler
INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.
he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has  no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.
he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.
he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just  cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?
one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido? 
he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies. 
nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.
theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”
someone needs to stage an intervention
got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜
135 notes · View notes
cherrybracelets · 4 years
Text
Freefall
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
word count: 15.3k | warnings: smut!!!! alcohol mention, murder mention, rape mention, lots of typical cm violence! 
inspired by: its called freefall by rainbow kitten surprise (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading!)
Anyway, you say you’re too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / And you don’t want no help, oh well / That’s the story to tell
ok i have put my blood sweat and tears in this lamfkndksjfj this has been my wip for almost 3 weeks this is my entry for @veraiconcos​ fic challenge!! her prompt fit so perfectly with this fic so i am so excited to share it with you guys. this is by far my most challenging piece and the one i worked the longest on. i really hope you all love it, feedback is much appreciate. i am tagging some moots to signal boost this, i hope u dont mind 
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Aaron- 
This woman killed my dad. They said you’d be able to help. Please find her. 
Aaron ran his fingertips over the letter one more time, feeling the depth of the pen, the engravement of each letter into the crisp stationary. He reread the words for a thousandth time, wondering if this time he could discover who actually sent the letter. But unfortunately, just like the past times, there was nothing to indicate who the sender was. The only other thing in the picture was a photograph of a young woman, the person Aaron believed was the murderer. Her face was mostly covered, and he was almost certain the short black bob that sat on her head was a wig. There was nothing about the photo that would help identify her, but on the back of the photo was a date- May 7th 2020, and a city, Sante Fe, NM.
He continued to stare at it, hoping some new information would pop out at him this time. But there was nothing, and he knew if he wanted to find whoever was responsible for this crime, he would need to involve the team. Whoever sent this clearly only wanted Aaron involved, even addressing him personally as Aaron and not Agent Hotchner.. Who could this person be? And who sent him Aaron’s way? 
“You’re here early,” JJ hesitated, walking through the doors of the BAU to begin her day.
“Yeah… I’ve got kind of a… thing?” Aaron stammered over his words, trying to decide how he should go about this. 
“What’s going on, Hotch?” 
“Come take a look at this. It was on my desk yesterday.” Hotch waved JJ over to him, holding the letter tightly in hands. He handed it to her hesitantly, still not feeling comfortable sharing with the rest of the team. It could be a prank, a practical joke, somebody just trying to waste his time. But how did it find it’s way onto his desk? Who would be messing with him like this? 
“Was there an envelope?” JJ asked, staring at the words on the paper. 
“Yes, addressed to me, but no return address. It seems like it was hand delivered.” 
“The handwriting looks like a teenagers, how would he have made it all the way from New Mexico?”
“Maybe somebody else delivered it?”
Aaron and JJ’s attention was quickly taken away when Spencer and Derek walked through the doors, their loud voices cracking through the quiet air of the BAU. They were arguing about something pointless, as they usually did. Aaron felt his head throbbing as the day started to begin, unsure of how much longer he’d be able to make it without some strong coffee. 
“JJ, keep this between us for now. I’ll bring it to Garcia, see if she can find anything worth investigating. I don’t want to bring it to the team unless I’m sure we have a case.” 
“Understood.” JJ smiled kindly at him, a look he was all too familiar with. Ever since Haley died, it felt like everyone was constantly walking on eggshells around him. Everyone felt bad, and they did whatever he asked without complaint. From a boss standpoint, it was nice, not having to argue your decisions to your team. But, they were more than his team. They were his friends, and he felt he lost them the same day he lost Haley. 
Aaron greeted Spencer and Derek quickly, not wanting to get pulled into whatever discussion they were having. He was holding onto the letter tightly, afraid of losing it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just had a feeling about it. Like he had stumbled onto something huge, and whatever Garcia could find out would lead them to something unbelievable. 
“Hey, Garcia. Any chance I could have you work on something… private, for now?” Aaron stood in the doorway of her office, all of the bright screens making him wince. His headache was only getting worse as the day went on. 
“Of course, sir. Is everything okay?” She looked worried, for sure hoping that whatever secret task she was performing for him had nothing to do with Haley. Although he knew she would never say anything, he could tell she was worried about him. 
“I need you to check deaths in Santa Fe, NM from May 5th - May 9th. Specifically look for men with teenage sons.”
“Just homicides?” 
“No, any deaths. And see if you find anything suspicious.”
“Alright…” Penelope said, furrowing her brows in confusion. “It might take a bit. Santa Fe’s a big city.”
“Just get back to me when you can, Garcia.” Aaron smiled slightly at the technical analyst, before leaving quietly. His head was begging him for caffeine, or Advil, or a drink, even though it was barely 9 in the morning. 
He walked quietly back to his office, not talking to any of his team, closing the door behind him as he got inside. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, most likely caused by the cigarette he snuck this morning on an empty stomach. He paced uncomfortably, dry swallowing an Advil he found in the back of his desk drawer. He knew it would take Garcia a while
to get his information, but he was feeling exceptionally frustrated and impatient. He started to walk towards the door, feeling the need to to pester his analyst to work quicker, but as he opened it, JJ stood pleasantly in the door. 
“We got a case, boss,” she smiled, waving an envelope in the air. 
“Alright, let’s get to the conference room.” Aaron closed the door to office, following his Agent into the annex. He felt sick as he took his seat, not ready for whatever horror was about to be presented. Some days he felt like giving up, like throwing in the towel. He has given this job everything he had, and what did he get in return? 
+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-+:-+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+
Aaron and the team left an hour later for their newest destination, solving the case within 3 days. They were headed back to DC on the jet when he got a call from Garcia. It was rare she would call him personally if they were not working a case, so he knew it must’ve been about the letter. He waited a moment before answering, anxious about what her news could be. What if she found nothing, and this was the end of the line? 
“Hello, sir. I wanted to call as soon as I could.” She sounded nervous, a tone of confusion in her voice. 
“What’s going on, Garcia?” 
“Well, it’s about the letter. I found something… interesting.” 
“Do you think we could have a case?”
“It’s a high possibility, sir.” 
“Alright. Can you patch into the computer and share with the team. I’d like to bring them in on this as well.”
“Sounds good, see you in a moment.”
Aaron hung the phone up, walking back to the main part of the jet and back to the rest of the team. They were spread out, all enjoying the calming feeling of a solved case. Spencer and JJ were sleeping, Emily and Derek both with headphones in and Rossi reading a book. He hated to bother them, hated to disturb their peace they all deserved. But that was the job- there was no peace. They all had to endure constant chaos so that innocent people didn’t have to. 
Aaron turned on the lights of the jet, alarming his team and causing several groans of frustration. 
“What’s going on, Hotch?” Emily asked in desperation, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light. 
“I’m sorry to bother everyone, but I think we might have a new case.” Aaron looked around the room, slowly watching the faces of his friends change from their relaxed state to the intensity of a profiler. 
“Is this about… the thing from a few days ago?” JJ asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up if it wasn’t the case. 
“The letter, yes.” 
“Hello, my sleepy friends. I am sorry to bother you, but I have stumbled across something interesting that I believe requires your attention. Uh, Hotch… would you like to…” she trailed off, looking around for her superior to explain how they ended up here. 
“I received a letter a few days ago… someone asking us to look into the death of their father. It was anonymous, there was a picture along with it but it still wasn’t enough to do much on my own. So, I handed over what I had to Garcia and…” Aaron trailed off, realizing now he hadn’t even asked Penelope what she got before bringing the rest of the team in. 
“I guess that’s where I come in. So, as per our humble leader, I searched for deaths of men on the given dates with teenage sons, and as I expected, that list was quite large.” 
“Why teenage sons?” Derek asked, still trying to fill in the gaps of information. 
“The letter was clearly written by a young boy, no older than 16 was my guess,” JJ added, explaining her conclusion to the team. 
“Garcia, were you able to narrow down the list?” Aaron asked, desperately wanting to know what she found. 
“Well, I got rid of anyone whose death was expected. People who were sick or in the hospital, with underlying medical conditions, et cetera et cetera. Once we narrowed it down to deaths that were true accidents, I had a list of three.” 
“How do we know this isn’t just a prank?” Rossi asked. It was a fair question, a question he frequently asked himself as well. 
“Ah, well, if it was a prank I wouldn’t have found out what I did…” 
“That looks like the face of someone who’s about to tell me I’m not going home tonight,” Derek laughed, turning to Emily, who rolled her eyes. 
“Unfortunately it does seem like there’s a case here. One of the men that I flagged as ‘Could Be A Murder Victim’ has a… bad past.” One thing that Aaron always admired about Penelope is how she always managed to speak with such lightness, no matter how heavy the content of her words. “42-year old Derek Hood was killed on May 7th, ruled as an accidental drug overdose. There was some chatter that it may have been suicide, but there was no note and the family insisted he wouldn’t have killed himself.” 
“So what makes you think it was murder?” Spencer asked.
“Alright, get this. Our man Jason was on trial two years ago for the rape of three different 16 year old girls. It was declared a mistrial, unfortunately, after all three of the girls refused to testify at his trial.”
“Is it possible he threatened them? This could be a revenge killing, if that was the case,” Emily added. 
“Ah, I thought that too, my friend. But all three of the girls are now in college and far, far away from Sante Fe. So, that was kind of a dead end.”
“What about the parents?” Aaron questioned. 
“We think alike, sir. All three of their families still reside in Santa Fe, and three weeks before Jason’s death, all three couples withdrew $15,000 cash from their banks. One family stated it was for a pool, the other for a car, and the last family stated it was for bathroom renovations.” 
“Were any of those projects completed, Garcia?” 
“To the best of my knowledge, no.” 
“So this is what I think it is, then,” Rossi asked, looking up towards Aaron for confirmation. 
“It’s most likely a hitman, yes.” Aaron looked around at his team, a feeling of worry drowning him. Hitmen were exceptionally dangerous, and so were the routes to get to them. It was an extremely well protected underground business, and the chances of catching one successfully, with no one hurt, were very slim. 
“Wait, but our unsub is a woman. The photo very clearly showed a female, and even in the letter, the boy addresses her as ‘This woman.’” 
“Could we see the picture, Garcia?” Aaron asked, staring at the monitor as he awaited the photo. 
“Maybe they’re dressing as a woman to distract any possible witnesses?” Rossi added. The photo then popped up on the monitor, the same hidden person that was ingrained in Aaron’s brain. He couldn’t forget her, her shielded face, cheap wig, perfect body… 
“That is definitely a woman, guys. You can’t fake that body…” Derek laughed, causing a wave of eye rolls and a slight shove of disgust from Emily. 
“A female hitman… that is exceptionally rare.” 
“Maybe she’s killing for justice? I mean, Jason was a piece of shit. And he somehow got away with his crimes, maybe this is punishment,” Derek added, always the first to try to come up with some sort of explanation. 
“Why would she charge the parents almost fifty grand, though? That clearly makes it about money,” Emily rebutted. 
“Garcia, is there any way we can find out who they gave that money too?” Aaron asked, hoping for a quick and easy answer, but he knew nothing was easy at this job. 
“Since they took it out in cash, there’s no way to trace it, sir.” 
“We’ll need to talk to the parents.” 
“They won’t say anything, you know how that goes,” JJ said. 
“We’ll target one of them, whichever is the most unstable. Promise them immunity. That usually works in situations like this.” Aaron looked at the team, noticing how tired they were. He knew how bad they needed to go home, sleep in their own beds, wash their hair with something other than hotel shampoo. But this was big, he could feel it. And they probably did, as well. It was their life, they were all aware of how crazy this career path could be. But, just because he knew that, it didn't make it any easier on Aaron when he had to push them to their limit.  “We need to turn the plane around to Santa Fe. If this person is local, it’s best that we’re on the scene.” 
“Can we at least stop home so I can get some new clothes?” JJ groaned, looking at the team in desperation for support. 
“Fine. Can we be back in the air in two hours?” 
“We can make that work,” Spencer agreed. 
“Alright. Thanks, guys.” 
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Santa Fe was hot. The kind of hot that made it impossible to breathe, and your clothes felt like they had melted into your skin. Aaron could feel his skin on fire, burning hotter and hotter as he stood under the desert sun. Emily stood next to him, glistening in a thin layer of sweat. The two of them stared closely at a house across the street, taking in every detail. 
“You ready?” Emily asked, her voice cracking through the quiet air like a whip. 
“Uh… yeah,” Aaron stuttered, his brain feeling off. He had a feeling whoever this person was, she wasn’t in Sante Fe. This was a big operation that they had stumbled upon, and he had a bad feeling about the way it would end up. 
Aaron followed Emily to the door, feeling exceptionally guilty as they entered the front yard of a family whose lives had been destroyed- and all they were there to do was destroy them further. He knew they only did what they did to avenge their daughter- and he understood. Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve done the same thing with Foyet.
“Are you alright, Hotch? I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t seem like yourself,” Emily questioned, stopping in her tracks before they made their presence  known to the family. 
“Just have a bad feeling about this one, I guess,” he responded, rubbing his head with his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s get this over with…” 
“Aye aye, sir.” 
The two of them walked to the front door of the small house, knocking slightly quietly on the white painted wood of the door. An older man opened the door, immediately tensing up as he saw the two of them. They looked like Agents- or at the very least, local detectives, and the man was pretty quick to understand why they were there. 
“Are you Bradley Mathis?” Emily asked, standing a few inches in front of Aaron, clearly trying to take the lead on this. It was probably for the best, since his head was not on right today. In all honesty, his head hadn’t been on right since Foyet. 
“Who are you?” Bradley asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest and backing away from the door. 
“Mr. Mathis, I want to assure you that if you cooperate with us, there will be no trouble. We understand you did everything to protect your daughter, and we aren’t looking for trouble. We just want to find the person who did this for you.” As Aaron spoke, he realized how scary this must be for him. His daughter was brutally attacked, they found the man that hurt her, and then he threatened her into silence so he could walk free. If it had happened to Aaron’s kid, he would’ve killed the son of a bitch with his own bare hands. 
“You promise me nothing will happen to me?” He asked defensively, his eyes darting nervously across the room.
“I never met her, okay. I swear,” he responded in relief, as if he’d been waiting for the moment he could finally tell somebody. It was exhausting caring around those kinds of secrets. “I got her info from a friend. You go to the website, submit your claim, and she’ll send an assistant out to decide if she’ll take you on as a client. If she decides to help you, you’ll give half the money up front, and half upon proof of… death,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke the words.
“That’s pretty standard practice for what she is…” Emily added. 
“How did you find her website?” Aaron asked, wanting to leave this man in peace as quickly as possible. 
“There’s some… tricks to finding her. Give me one second,” he said, turning around quickly and darting to another room. Emily reached for her gun defensively, but Aaron put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. 
“He won’t run.” 
“How do you know? He has every reason to dart.” 
“I just know. He’ll be back. Trust me.” Aaron looked to his Agent, kindly suggesting but also ordering her to relax. She nodded, crossing her arms as the pair waited for Bradley. As Aaron suspected, he came back a few minutes later with a beat up piece of paper. 
“Someone I know from the support group gave me this. It’s how to contact her.” He handed them a brochure that was in pretty bad shape, but still legible enough to understand where to go. From the outside, it looked like a brochure for a dental surgery. But there were certain words highlighted, most likely by whoever gave Bradley this in the first place. It mapped out clear instructions on how to contact this mystery vigilante. 
“That’s all I know. I swear.” 
“I believe you,” Aaron responded, noticining the calmness flooding over Bradley’s face as Aaron spoke. “You can never tell anybody this, do you understand?” 
Bradley nodded, his mouth glued shut as the reality of the situation finally weighed on him. He noticed the guns holstered to Emily and Aaron’s hips, and quickly shut the door, no goodbye’s needed. 
“If she’s sending people to meet potential clients before she meets them, she isn’t local,” Emily put together, shaking her head in shock as the pair walked back to their car. 
“No, she’s not. Which means we need to get back on the plane ASAP. Send this over to Garcia, I’ll call the team and tell them to meet us back at the jet.” 
“Sounds good.” 
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“Hello, angels. Are you ready for all the answers to your prayers?” Garcia’s voice popped through the stiff air of the jet, breaking through the harsh waters like a ray of sunshine. 
“Were you able to find her, Garcia?” 
“Of course, sir. Our girl is fancy. You need five grand upfront just to meet with her. Her website looks like it was designed for a five star hotel. She is legit.” 
“Can we actually find her, Penelope?” Aaron had raised his voice slightly, frustration starting to set in. He just wanted this to be over, he wanted to bring her in and end this. 
“Yes, yes. Sorry. Our girl goes by the name Ananke.” 
“That’s not very intimidating,” Derek laughed, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair. 
“Well, kind of. Ananke is a greek goddess, specifically known as one of the most powerful deity’s to control fate and circumstance. It’s pretty fitting, giving what she does.” 
“The only way to meet her is to submit an appointment request, which is easier said than done. She has a legit system, requires a birth certificate, social security number, and a license or passport.”
“And five G’s,” JJ added. 
“Can we create fake documents and submit them? Maybe have someone undercover go meet her.” 
“I’ll do it. This has been my case from the beginning, I’d like to end it as well,” Aaron said, assuring his team he would finish this. 
“I can get everything made up and submitted before you land.” 
“Is there any way to figure out where she’s located?” 
“Unfortunately not at the moment. I am still digging though, it’s possible I missed something.” 
“Thanks, Garcia. We’ll see you soon.” 
The team made some more small talk after that, realizing there wasn’t much they could do unless they had a location. Aaron’s head was beginning to throb again, absolute exhaustion overcoming him as he sat down and let himself relax for the first time in days. He missed Jack, he missed the comfort of his own bed, the smell of his cheap laundry detergent. He realized he was digging his nails into his palms, his flesh barely intact as he released his tension. 
The rest of his team had broken up into their own conversations, ignoring the crumbling mess that was Aaron Hotchner. He walked to the bathroom quietly, snooping through the cabinets and finding a small bottle of vodka. He downed it quickly, letting the liquor burn the back of his throat and take his mind off of everything else. Even if it was for a moment, the distraction was welcomed, and almost necessary for him to keep going. 
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It was two full days- almost forty eight hours exactly- when they finally heard back from Ananke. She had agreed to meet with ‘Zachary Wilson’ who was looking for revenge against the drunk driver that killed his wife. And to the whole team’s surprise, it appeared that she was located in DC. Ananke herself said she would meet him, stating that she was ‘in the area’. 
The address she gave them appeared to be a popular nightclub in college town, one that Aaron had unfortunately been dragged to on multiple occasions. The team agreed that Aaron should meet her alone, the team standing outside to come in if necessary. She wanted to meet him on a Friday night, which meant the place would be flooded with innocent civilians. It was safest if they stayed out of it, at first. 
By the time Friday rolled around, Aaron had barely eaten in days. He was staying alive on coffee, tylenol, and mini bottles of vodka he could keep in his pockets. Oh, and the occasional cigarette was a necessity as well. He had waited anxiously for what felt like weeks to meet her. This case had been weighing on him since the moment he received that letter, and he wanted it to be over. He wanted the anxiety and the chaos to be over. But, once they solved this one, there would just be another after, and the cycle of chaos and anxiety begins all over again. 
“I hope you know you can't dress like that,” JJ said, teasing Aaron with a light shove as she walked past him. 
“Why?” 
“It’s… a business suit, Hotch. And you're going to a nightclub. It screams Fed.” 
Aaron looked down at himself, realizing JJ was right. His vibes screamed ‘Cop’, and that was exactly what he did not want. 
“Don’t worry, sir. I have something you can borrow from my go bag,” Derek suggested. 
“Hotch in Derek’s clothes? That’s something I’ll pay good money to see,” Emily laughed, JJ giggling alongside her as Derek rolled his eyes and threw clothes at the two of them. 
“You think these will work?” Derek asked the girls, not bothering with Aaron’s opinion. 
“Oh, it’s perfect. Hotch will love these,” they laughed, neatly folding the clothes and handing them to Aaron. He walked away in silence, heading towards his office so he could change. The clothes weren’t a perfect fit, but they were better than his suit. The shirt was way too tight, with a v-neck that was way too deep. His arms felt like they would rip right through the cheap cotton, and his ass felt like it was going to bust straight out of the denim. 
He began to walk out of the office quietly, hoping that the rest of the team wouldn’t be waiting for his fashion show. But as he figured, they were standing by patiently for him to show off in Derek’s way too tight clothes. As soon as he opened the door, a riot of laughs and cat calls surrounded him. He felt himself blushing, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time. 
“Damn, Hotch. Where have you been hiding those arms?” Derek laughed, his voice echoing through Aarons head. 
“I think we need to start casual Friday,” Spencer added, staring in awe at his boss. 
“Alright, enough guys. This is a serious case, and I need everyone to be on their best behavior.” 
“I’m not sure I can act right with you walking around like that,” Rossi joked, causing the rest of the team to burst out with laughter. Aaron just rolled his eyes, secretly appreciating the light that they all brought to his life. 
“Alright, you guys ready to go?” 
“All set. Let’s go catch a killer, sir.” 
The ride to the club was a bit of a hike, a little over thirty minutes by the time they parked. They were split in two cars, seperated to cover both entrances. The plan was for him to go in and assess the situation, hoping he can get her out without harming any bystanders. If he needed backup, he had an alarm he could trigger that would alert the rest of the team to come in. It was a simple plan, one they had executed a thousand times in the past. But despite that, he felt extremely anxious. 
“Are you ready, Aaron?” Rossi asked, raising his eyebrows in concern. 
“Yeah, let’s get this over with. Stay alert, guys.” Aaron walked out of the car and to the entrance of the club, staring directly at the large bouncer standing in front of the door. He was given very specific instructions on what to see when he approached the man, ones that would deliver him directly to Ananke and avoid having to deal with the actual club. 
“You on the list?” The bouncer asked as Aaron approached, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard. 
“I’m here to see… A,” he whispered, looking around frantically to see if anyone else heard. 
“You got your ID and confirmation number?” He asked, setting his clipboard down and staring intensely at Aaron. 
“Uh, yeah. It’s 73491. And here’s my drivers license,” he responded, handing him the forged Virginia license of one Zachary Wilson. 
“Zachary Wilson…” the man whispered, making Aaron sick to his stomach as he awaited the man to deny him and send him away, ruining his chances of finding her forever. “You’re gonna go in this door, right here,” he said, pointing towards a hidden and seemingly locked door to his right. “Take the stairs all the way up, knock on the door twice. She’ll be right with you.” 
“Thank you,” he responded, relieved as he began to walk past the guard and towards his end goal. 
“Oh, and Zachary,” the man added, causing Aaron to turn around in confusion. 
“Remember: lei è dalla nostra parte,” he said, a smile creeping on his face as he spoke. Aaron recognized the language as Italian, but he couldn’t translate what he was saying. The bouncer turned around before Aaron had the chance to ask what he meant, but he figured it would just be better to move on and go directly to her. 
He slowly opened the door, unsure of what he would find on the other side. To his surprise, it was only an exceptionally narrow staircase in a small hallway, leading directly to another gray door. The sound of fluorescent lights buzzed in the air, making Aaron dizzy as he walked up the steep steps. He remembered what the man said- knock twice. He also remembered the phrase in Italian, lei è dalla nostra parte. And when he finally got to the door, he began to unravel the words in his head. He knocked twice, replaying the words over and over. And when he finally heard the door click open, he understood what the man had meant. She is on our side. 
“Zachary?” A man asked, opening the door slightly, only enough to peak out at him. 
“Yes. I’m here to see-” 
“Ananke. Of course,” he interrupted, swinging the door open and revealing an exceptionally beautiful and ornate room. Aaron walked in slowly, in a daze, his eyes not sure where to look as every piece of the room exceptionally thought out. There was a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the light reflecting rainbows from the crystals. 
“She will be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat somewhere. Can I get you anything to drink?” 
Aaron felt like he was at a hotel, the service impeccable as he sat down on the incredibly comfortable and probably very expensive couch. Most hit men he had met with did not present themselves like this. Whoever she was, she had a lot of money. In that moment, he wondered how many lives she had taken- how many people finally got what they deserved. And for a brief and frightening moment, he wondered if she was doing things right? 
His thoughts were interrupted when she walked out. Not only did he lose his train of thought, but his breath was literally ripped from his chest. She was no longer covering her face, or wearing a wig. She had finally revealed herself to him, and he was in awe. She was absolutely stunning- beautiful to a level that made his head spin and his heart cramp up. He stood up instinctively, feeling the need to stand and greet her face to face. As she walked closer, he felt his throat getting tighter and tighter. 
“Hello,” she spoke, her words floating through the air like a flower in the spring wind. “I’m Ananke.” 
“Mhmm, he,” he stuttered, sticking his hand out to shake hers. “I’m…” he choked, unable to get his words out. 
“Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, right?” She smiled, and Aaron instinctively reached for his gun. 
“Put your weapon away, Aaron. I’m no threat to you,” she instructed, and he complied. For some reason, he believed her. She had no intention of hurting him or anyone else in this building. He didn’t need his weapon. 
“How do you know who I am?” 
“The FBI has a list of Social Security numbers they regularly use for fake documents. It’s… a hard list to get your hands on. I’m lucky I have friends in high places.” 
“So you knew who I was from the minute I submitted my application?” He was shocked, a sick feeling washing over him. Who was she? How was she consistently one step ahead of them? 
“I’m sorry to break your sense of superiority, agent. It hurts when someone is smarter than you, doesn't it?” She tilted her head at him, a devilish grin pasted across her face. He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be angry, but all he could focus on was the fire burning inside of him and the hunger building itself, the craving overcoming her. Her skirt revealed a little too much of her thigh and her shirt was a little too low cut and the thought of her flesh on his rippled its way through his body. 
“Well, we found you and I’m going to arrest you, so it doesn’t seem like you came out on top here,” he responded, avoiding eye contact as he tried to get his impure thoughts out of his head. 
“Agent Hotchner, something you will quickly learn is that I only come on top.” She winked at him, pursuing her lips slightly and smiling. She held her wrists out to him, walking towards him until she was only inches away. “Are you going to arrest me, Agent?” 
Aaron reached for the cuffs in his back pocket, pulling them out slowly and staring directly at her. She didn't take his eyes off of him, standing tall as he began to cuff her. Her hands were soft, almost comical as they brushed against his rough and untouched skin. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. He just closed the cuffs on her, her large eyes staring up at him like a doe. He felt dizzy again, the intoxicating smell of her perfume, the subtle hints of berries and vanilla surrounding him in a whirlwind. 
He slowly grabbed his phone from his pocket, trying to dial Rossi’s number, feeling drunk as he pressed the button. What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? Why would she willingly let herself get arrested so easily? That was the problem. This was exceptionally easy. Nothing was ever this easy. 
“Hey, Rossi. I got her. We’re coming down now.” 
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Aaron wasn’t surprised that she remained silent the entire car ride back to Quantico. What he was surprised by is that she didn’t appear nervous or angry. She sat calmly, staring out the window, her body relaxed and her lips forming the slightest smile. It made him angry- he didn’t understand her nonchalance. 
They tried to talk to her, ask her for her real name, about her crimes- but she would just look at them, tilting her head and smiling before bringing her gaze back outside. When they finally arrived back at the Bureau, she turned towards Aaron and Rossi, slowly speaking her first words in over thirty minutes. 
“Am I allowed a phone call?” She asked, staring directly at Aaron, as if it was only the two of them in the car. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world. 
“Who exactly would you like to call?” Rossi smirked, rolling his eyes, trying to get Aaron to look at him. But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. He was drawn to her like a sailor at sea, listening to the sweet song of the siren. He understood, now, why the sailors always swam to their death. It was because it was so damn beautiful. 
“I’d like to speak with the Director,” she insisted, her eyes finally releasing Aaron from his hypnosis as she looked in disgust at Rossi. He could sense the shift in her tone as she looked at the agent- she had built up a terrifying exterior that she had on display for most people. But when she looked at Aaron, the wall somehow didn’t exist. Why would she show her true self to a stranger? What was it about him that she was drawn too? Could she sense his pain? Did she know that he understood why she did what she did? That he, too, had felt the rush of ending evil with his own two hands? 
“The Director? Of the FBI?” Rossi asked, shocked at her absurd request. “What exactly would you like to speak to him about?” 
“I just think he’d be interested to know I’m here,” she spoke, calmly, sitting back in the seat of the car and looking out the window again. 
“This girl is nuts…” Rossi whispered to Aaron before getting out of the car and grabbing ‘Ananke’ from the back seat. Aaron followed closely behind, his eyes locked on Rossi’s tight grip around her flesh. He could see the marks his agent was leaving behind, his fingertips dug into her arm. It made him sick. The thought of anyone harming her made him sick. But she was the bad guy- he was supposed to hate her, to send her away and avenge all of the lives she took. Why did he want to save her so bad? Grab her from Rossi, hop in the car and take her away from all of this. It didn’t make sense, the way he felt. And Aaron hated it- he hated feeling out of control of his own thoughts- his own desires. 
As they brought her into the BAU, the rest of the team following behind, he immediately noticed something was off when he walked through the doors. The rest of the team must have noticed as well, because they all kind of stopped in their tracks as they walked in. 
Derek noticed her first, pacing back and forth in Aaron’s office. 
“Strauss,” he groaned, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. 
“What is she doing here?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and tensing up. 
“I’m not sure. I’ll go find out. Rossi, can you bring her into the interrogation room? Spencer, try and get something out of her,” Aaron instructed his team, watching them seperate and do their assigned tasks as he walked up to his office. When he got closer, he noticed the Director was also there as well. He got a sick feeling in his stomach, remembering his immediate thoughts when he first arrested Ananke. It’s never this easy. 
He opened his office door with shaking hands, immediately slapped in the face with tension clinging to the air. The Director stood up as he entered, and Strauss stopped pacing. 
“Aaron,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously around the room. 
“Erin,” he smirked, not sure why his brain was choosing this moment to crack jokes. 
“It’s good to see you, Agent Hotchner. It’s been a while,” the Director said. 
“Chris. It’s good to see you as well. Can I ask what you’re doing in my office?” 
The two of them looked nervously at each other, as if deciding who had to tell him the unspoken secret. The first thought in his brain was that Foyet was back. He killed him, though. He remembered the life draining out of him. He couldn’t be back. He felt his body get hot, his breathing picking up as he remembered Foyet’s face… 
“Aaron… unfortunately, we’re going to need you to let (Y/N) go.” 
“Who?” He asked bluntly, confused at the name he was sure he had never heard before. Although his brain was still spinning, he was feeling calmer knowing whatever this was, it wasn’t about Foyet. 
“Ananke. You need to release her,” Strauss clarified, her voice equally annoyed and apologetic. 
“I’m sorry… I’m confused.” Aaron was realizing now how much easier it was to hate Ananke - or (Y/N) - when she wasn't right in front of him. He couldn’t see her, she couldn’t lure him in. Her spell had broken. “I know for a fact she killed at least one person. I’m not releasing her.” 
“Aaron, this goes beyond you. She is no longer a person of interest.” Chris had raised his voice, clearly frustrated at whatever was happening. 
“You can’t just take away my unsub and not tell me why. Do you think my team will be okay with that? Do you think I’ll be okay with that?” Aaron was angry, the thought of them taking her away with no reason making him crazy. 
“Agent Hotchner, there are some secrets within the Bureau that even you don’t know about.” 
“I don’t accept that.” 
Chris and Strauss looked defeated, both accepting that they won’t win this battle. Chris shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, contemplating his words. 
“What is going on, Strauss?” Aaron begged, the room beginning to spin again, his body craving the sweet release of nicotine and the bitter taste of vodka. 
“Your unsubs real name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is a government protected assassin.” 
“What?” Aaron’s head was spinning, the room around him dancing in circles as the words floated through his mind. That couldn’t be real. There was no way the place he worked, that he believed upheld justice, would do something so… unjust. So immoral. They had to be lying. “It’s not possible. We met the man that paid her to kill someone. She was paid by a civilian to kill a civilian.” 
“She sometimes takes on… side projects,” Chris muttered, clearly knowing his words would upset Aaron. 
“And you allow that?” He yelled, his body fuming with anger as he paced around his office. It didn't make sense. Everything he had ever believed in was crumbling right before his eyes- all because of her. 
“With the things she has done for us, Aaron, there is a little bit of lenience. Besides, Jason was a bad person, anyways.” 
“That doesn’t make it okay. We have a justice system in place for a reason.” He felt sick, the realization that a system he protected for so long was seeping with corruption. 
“Did Foyet get his chance for trial? Or did the justice system not count for him?” Strauss looked at him sternly, frustration written on her face. Aaron realized she was right. He took justice into his own hands with Foyet, and he didn’t regret it. How was she doing anything different? For a moment, nothing made sense to Aaron. His entire belief system had shattered right in front of him. He was speechless, his brain splashing around trying to find the right words to express his disbelief. But he was coming up empty, drawing blanks. There was truly nothing he could say that could capture how he felt. He just thought of her, the sweet smell of berries that lingered in her hair, the softness of her skin, the enticing aura that surrounded her when she looked at him. 
“What am I supposed to tell my team?” He thought out loud. 
“We’ll handle it. Let’s go out and talk to them now,” Chris instructed, walking out of the office and down towards the annex. Rossi noticed the three of them and quickly walked up to Chris, greeting him. 
“Could you gather your team for me?” The director asked, Aaron still unsure of how he would explain this to them. Rossi grabbed everyone pretty quickly, dragging Spencer from the interrogation room, which Aaron could only imagine was going very poorly. 
“Hello everyone, I’m sorry to bother you all, but the unsub you brought in today is a person of interest in several international crimes. She’s been on our watch list for a while, now, and we’re going to have to hand her over to interpol.” The Directors words were quick and precise, leaving no room for anyone to second guess him. Even Aaron was convinced they weren’t going to release her the minute they were alone. 
“What has she done?” JJ questioned, intrigued at the mystery international criminal they brought in. 
“It’s classified, Agent. And if you don’t mind, we’d like to get out of here rather quickly. If someone could grab her, please,” he ordered, causing Spencer to quickly walk to the room she was in and bring her back out to them. 
She was smirking widely as she walked out, clearly knowing her freedom was inevitable. He had so many questions for her, so much he needed to know, but he had to keep his mouth shut. She was slipping right through his fingers, and he had only just begun to know her. 
“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I know how much you enjoyed seeing me in handcuffs,” she whispered to him as she passed by, winking seductively before being taken away by the Director and Strauss. 
Aaron felt miserable as she walked away, the three of them heading into the elevator and away from him forever. She now felt only like a ghost, a distant memory fading away as more time went by without her. The team moved on from the loss in a matter of minutes, but Aaron stood there, frozen in place, waiting desperately for her to come back. 
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Five days. He was able to wait five days before he went to see her. He tried so desperately to forget about her- it seemed everyone else had. But she seeped into his dreams, tossing and turning as he tried to sleep, her voice, her face, her body, calling to him. He needed to see her again, just to ask her why. He wouldn’t sleep ever again if he didn’t. 
So, five days after she walked away, he waited until Jack was asleep, explained to Jessica that he had some paperwork to take care of, and headed to see her. His brain continuously tried to tell him it was a bad idea. He should turn around, go home, and forget her. But he knew it was easier said than done. This was the only way. 
When he got to the club, he noticed the same bouncer from before was sitting outside the door. Aaron felt a bit relieved, hoping the man would recognize him and he could lie his way up to (Y/N)’ door. 
“Hey, man,” he said casually, trying to sound as calm and not suspicious as possible. 
“Can I help you?” The man grunted, clearly not amused by Aaron’s attempt to be friendly. 
“I’m here to see A. We met a few days ago, I need to drop my money off,” he whispered, praying to whatever God was listening that this guy would believe his story. 
“A isn’t supposed to be meeting anyone tonight,” he groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Aaron could tell it was a long shot, but he had to do whatever he could to see her. 
“Call her. She’ll tell you,” he stuttered, looking anxiously at the large man standing between him and (Y/N). It was possible he could take him down if he had to, Aaron thought. It would be a hell of a fight, but he’d brought down bigger men. He shifted instinctively, trying to casually feel his hip and make sure he was still armed. 
The man pulled out a small phone that appeared to be very old- most likely a burner they used to communicate. He dialed a number quickly and stared at Aaron, as if hoping his boss would give him the go ahead to kick Aaron’s ass. 
“Hey, it’s me. Some guy is here to see you. Said you talked earlier today. Can you check the cams,” he asked, trying to speak quietly, but Aaron was still able to hear every word. He waited patiently for her response, trying to keep his face calm. 
“Alright, thanks A.” He hung the call up and placed the phone in his pocket, taking as long as possible to give Aaron his answer. It felt like hours, excruciating pain as he waited for his fate. 
“You’re clear to go.”
Aaron was almost positive she would send him away. If she had cameras, she knew it was him. Why would she allow him to come up? Did she want to see him, too? 
He knew if he stood there any longer contemplating the situation, he would look suspicious. So despite all of his common sense warning him that something was wrong, he walked through the secret door and up the narrow staircase, knocking twice at her door and awaiting to enter her world. 
He was greeted by the same man from earlier, who was smiling brightly as he opened the door and let him in. He offered him another drink, which Aaron politely declined, finding a seat on one of the couches and unable to sit still as he waited for her. 
She left him waiting for quite a while. Although it felt like hours of agony for Aaron, his watch assured him he had only been waiting around twenty minutes by the time she finally greeted him. She was wearing a short red dress, golden heels wrapped around her feet as she floated towards him, smiling devilishly as she poured herself a drink. 
“It’s nice to see you again, Agent,” she teased, taking a sip of her liquor of choice and taking a seat across from him. 
“I needed to talk to you.” 
“About what?” She tilted her head, soft lips creating a pout of confusion as she stared at him. 
“You knew I was going to arrest you the minute you got my application to meet… if you knew you couldn’t get in trouble, why would you let all of that happen? You could’ve called the Director the minute you knew who I was. Why didn’t you?” Aaron needed to know why she went through the trouble of setting up a meeting with him, allowing herself to be arrested and brought to the Bureau. It didn’t make sense, allowing herself to take such a big risk.
“It seemed… fun. Sometimes my life can be quite boring.” She smiled at him, her flirtatious grin that she seemed to save just for Aaron. 
“Wasting my time, my team's time… that's fun to you?” Aaron was getting angry again, his body fuming as he looked at her. 
“Well, maybe a part of me wanted to meet you. I mean, we’re not so different, Aaron.” 
“Hah,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at her. “You think you and I have anything in common?” 
“Oh, are you not the same SSA Aaron Hotchner who killed George Foyet with his own hands?” 
“How the hell do you know that?” Aaron had stood up at this point, his anger and frustration causing his body to become restless. 
“It’s on your record, Agent. It’s not too hard to find…” She took another sip of her drink, finishing the last of the cups content and standing up to face him. For a moment, they were inches apart, the air between them stock full of tension, anger and attraction swimming around the two. But as he prayed he could control his compulsion to touch her, she walked away, over to another corner of the room, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. 
The smell of smoke intoxicated him, making his knees shake as he craved the burn of nicotine in his throat. She floated back towards him, taking her place back on the couch and burning quickly through her cigarette. 
“You seem so angry, Aaron.” 
“Because you’re killing people, and somehow the people I look up to to maintain law and order don’t care.” 
“Have you ever thought that you’re more angry at yourself than at me? I mean, a part of you gets it, right? You understand what I do, why I do it… and that makes you sick, doesn’t it?” 
“I would never justify what you do.” 
“Mm,” she hummed, standing up and walking towards him again. She placed a soft hand on his face, Aaron realizing her touch was the first he’d felt since Haley died. The feel of his flesh being caressed by someone, being held by someone- it made him melt. 
“Maybe it’s not that, though. Maybe you really do hate me, hate what I do. But a part of you can’t stop thinking about touching me, feeling me… fucking me.” She moved her hand down his body, trailing her fingers down his chest and stopping at the base of his groin. He felt chills down his body, blood rushing to his cock at the slightest touch. 
“That’s not- it’s not that,” he stuttered, trying to back away, knowing how dangerous it would be for him to get roped into something like this. 
“Right, of course,” she whispered, taking her hand away from him and turning around, walking away. He watched her body as she floated across the room, his eyes glued to her ass that was begging to be touched by him. 
“(Y/N)...” Aaron whispered, calling for her, unable to stand the feeling of her being away from him. She turned towards him, walking back slowly, taking her time and letting him simmer in anticipation as she made her way back to the center of the room. When she made her way back to him, he grabbed her chin with his hand, tilting her face up towards him, her lips inches from his. 
“I would never want somebody like you. You are a bad person, no matter what you try to say to me.” 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Agent,” she smirked, her lips almost brushing against his as she formed them into a smile. 
At that moment, it felt like any self control Aaron had flew directly out the window. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her body into his and kissing her. It was a kiss that was draped in desperation, anger, lust. His tongue made no attempt to be gentle, selfishly exploring her small mouth and he picked her up and sat her on a table. He tore his shirt off, his desire to be touched, to touch her, overcoming any restraint he had before. 
He picked her up, her small frame easy for his trained body to carry swifty to the couch. He threw her down on her back, her body writhing under his, moaning his name so loud that he was sure the club goers downstairs could hear. He wrapped his hands around her neck, gripping gently, listening to her gasp for air as he slid up her dress to reveal nothing underneath. 
“You’re just begging for me, aren’t you,” he teased, pulling his hard cock out from his boxers and teasing her entrance with his tip. She nodded slowly at him, unable to speak as he still had his hand gripped around her throat. He was aching to hear her voice again, so he released his hand, getting turned on at the mark he left on her. 
He slipped into her slowly, no time to waste on foreplay. He knew he needed her now, that their time was limited and it was only a matter of time before his common sense kicked in and he got out of there. But for the moment, he was sloppily pounding into her, not caring who saw or heard, desperately needing to be as close to her as possible. 
He came quickly, the euphoria of feeling another woman for the first time in months too much for him to control. She came too, though. He could tell she wasn’t faking- he could feel it. After they finished, he quickly put his clothes back on, (Y/N) continuing to lay breathlessly on the couch. He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something- ask him to stay, kiss him goodbye. But she just pulled herself up and walked towards the other side of the room, grabbing and lighting another cigarette.
“You should go.” (Y/N) instructed, not even bothering to look up at the man who just came inside her moments ago. 
“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know. They’ll kill you.” Aaron’s mouth was dry, watching the trail of smoke that followed her as she floated around the room, refusing to give him even a second of her time. 
“What do I have to live for?” She asked, finally dragging her tired eyes to his and smiling, one of the first real, and saddest, smiles he had seen from her. 
Aaron tried to think of something else to say, racking his brain for the correct words to say. But he continuously came up empty, and he realized he was starting to look more and more suspicious the longer he stood there. He decided to walk away, ignore the part of him that refused to tear away from her. 
He walked soberly down the stairs, out onto the street and to his car. As he sat in his drivers seat and started the engine, feeling his face get hot, the rare feeling of wet eyes as he began to cry. And then he started to laugh. An uncontrollable cackle that spilled out of him like a waterfall. It was comical, to look back over the past few months and relive all of the bullshit he had been through. He didn’t even recognize the person in the mirror anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because the person he used to be was the same person that let Haley die. 
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Aaron tried to pretend he didn’t spend every day over the next week thinking about her. The way her soft skin felt when he touched her, the way her lips tasted like bubblegum and her hair smelled like cherries. When he imagined her in his head, everything felt so distant, like he was barely holding on to a dream of her. He could feel her memory slipping away every second, and he couldn’t let that happen. 
He had to see her again, and soon. He wondered if she was thinking about him as well, if she remembered the mint chapstick he was wearing, or the Dolce cologne he was wearing. It made him sick, thinking that she forgot him. (Y/N) had slowly become everything to him, what if he was just a passing thought for her? 
The team had landed back in DC an hour ago, solving a case in Miami that was one of the easier ones they had had this year. Aaron was grateful for the slight break, his brain not completely in the right headspace. 
He rushed to finish up the closing paperwork, scribbling his words sloppily and without much care for grammar. He knew as soon as Strauss read his, she would call him and question his mental state. But he didn’t care. He just needed to get the hell out of here tonight, and if that meant sitting through another of Strauss’s evaluations, it was worth it. 
As he was signing the last of the documents, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He grabbed it with caution, not sure who would be calling him this late at night. The call was coming from an unknown number, and Aaron immediately worried something had happened to Jack. He was away at his grandparents this week, planning on staying a few more days. He answered the phone nervously, preparing for whatever horror was to come. 
“Hello, Agent,” a female voice said, a voice he instantly recognized as (Y/N)’s. Her voice flowed smoothly like silk even over the phone. It was truly hard to believe how she had managed to perfect every aspect of herself. 
“Why- how are you calling me?” He looked around cautiously, making sure no one could secretly hear any part of the phone call. 
“I’m flying to Paris this weekend, a little well deserved vacation. I was calling to see if you’d like to join me.” 
“I… Paris? I can’t just fly to Paris.” Aaron chuckled into the phone, the idea of someone just getting up and deciding to fly halfway across the world with no plan truly comical to him. 
“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d called the Fun Police. I thought this was Aaron Hotchner,” she teased. He could feel her smiling through the phone, a warmth that somehow seemed to wrap him even though he could only see her in his thoughts. 
“I can have fun…” he argued, biting his lip awkwardly, not wanting to seem inferior to her. 
“When was the last time you did something for yourself, Agent? Have you ever just… been spontaneous?” 
“(Y/N), you don’t understand-” 
“Call me A on the phone. It’s safer,” she instructed, her voice losing its soft luster as her professional side kicked in. 
“A… my job, my life… it doesn't leave room for spontaneity.” 
“No, Agent. That’s your choice. I’ll be at the jet runway at Dulles in two hours. Think about it. I’ll wait for you.” She hung the phone up, not giving him room to protest. He set the phone down on his desk, instantly missing her even more than he did before. Jack was going to be with his grandparents for three more days, and he did have some saved up vacation time. But what would he tell the team? What would he tell Strauss? 
His phone vibrated again, this time only a single buzz to indicate a text message. He flipped his phone over and saw a new message from an Unknown number. 
Life doesn’t have to be so complicated, Agent. It is much too short to spend this much time suffering. Learn to enjoy your days. 
A
He reread the message a thousand times, knowing the words would still reign true no matter how much he tried to convince himself she was in the wrong. He had spent his whole life serving others, and he was okay with it, until now. Maybe if he had lived without complication, and enjoyed his days, his life would be completely different… 
He ran home and quickly packed a bag, letting Strauss and Rossi know he needed some ‘alone time’ for a few days. They didn’t question it- one nice thing about having a recent trauma, he thought. He took an Uber to the airport, praying that (Y/N) kept her promise and waited for him. 
When he finally arrived on the runway, he noticed her immediately. It was as if even being near her set an alarm off inside of him, like every part of his brain was awake, feeling her energy from a hundred feet away. 
He thanked the Uber driver and ran to her, bag in hand. As he got to her, he noticed her face. She wasn’t surprised or shocked in the slightest- she knew he’d come. She somehow knew every move he would make. Was he that predictable… or was it something special between them?
“I have to be home in three days,” he said, breathlessly, overjoyed at the sight of his girl. 
“We can do a lot in three days,” she responded, smiling wickedly. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and embracing him. It was such a nice feeling to be held, comforted. He felt like he could stay there in her arms for years. But she broke the hug pretty quickly, motioning for one of her men to take care of the bags and began walking towards the jet. 
As he followed her up the stairs and into their own private world, he started to remember everything he was leaving behind. The realization of just how impulsive this was dawned on him as he looked back at the city behind him. He felt dizzy, leaning on the railing for support as he shakily walked up. 
“You alright?” (Y/N) asked, placing a hand on his arm to steady him. 
“This is crazy, (Y/N). I just can’t believe I’m doing this.” 
They continued to walk into the jet, her hand intertwined in his as they sat down and the door closed behind them. A man came out from behind the curtain, who Aaron immediately recognized as the same man who greeted him both times he met her. 
“Aaron, this is my… well, assistant, I guess. Jay, this is my new friend, Aaron.” She waved to Jay slightly, instructing him to come closer. 
“It’s good to meet you sir. Can I get the two of you anything to drink?” Jay was a short boy, couldn't have been more than 25. He clearly worshipped the ground she walked on, which seemed to be par for the course with men she knew. 
“Oh, hmm,” she thought, closing her eyes for a moment as she racked her brain for a decision. “Whiskey sour. What would you like?” She turned towards Aaron, the subtle tilt of her head reminding him of how pretty her neck looked with his hands around it. 
“I’ll do a Scotch, neat,” he ordered, something so enticing about ordering a drink on a private jet to Paris. 
“I’ll grab those for you now. Matt is ready to take off, A, are you all set?” Jay turned back towards his boss, his eyes widening like a puppy as he waited for her words. 
“I’m ready to go Jay, thank you,” she smiled, looking at him quickly before bringing her attention back to Aaron. Jay took her disinterest as a sign to leave and make their drinks, so he shuffled away quickly after she looked away. 
He came back with their drinks a moment later, leaving quickly after and closing himself in the cockpit. The jet began to take off shortly after, and Aaron took a long sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm any nerves he had left. He started at (Y/N) dreamily, as she shuffled through her phone and a pile on various paperwork on her lap. 
“Sorry, Agent, just finishing up some work,” she whispered, her eyes still staring down. 
“Mmm, it’s okay,” he responded, just happy to be in the same place as her again. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure,” she smiled, setting her work aside and bringing her attention to Aaron. 
“Why did you kick me out the other night? After…” His voice trailed off, shifting awkwardly in his seat. 
“I figured it be best for you. I didn’t want to wrap you up with my life… with me. But in all honesty, I can’t stop thinking about you. I called you tonight, and told myself if you didn’t show, I’d move on. But… you’re here.” 
“I’m here,” he whispered back, his eyes tracing down her body, craving her once again. 
“I feel like we have something special, Agent,” she whispered seductively, climbing out of her seat and walking towards him. 
“I missed you… I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” he moaned as she bent towards him, her lips kissing down his neck and playing with the collar of his shirt. She unbuttoned the top buttons, kissing his chest and moving her hand to his inner thigh. She trailed her fingers up his thigh, teasing his cock with the slightest touch. His hips bucked uncontrollably, blood flowing down to him as his desire took over his body. 
She got down on her knees, toying with his belt buckle. She was clearly trying to make him wait, the suffering and craving all a part of her game. But he was impatient, so he ripped his belt off himself, undoing his pants and pulling his erect penis out. 
(Y/N) licked her lips in anticipation, wanting to pleasure him as much as he wanted to be pleasured. She played with his tip slowly, toying her tongue around him as he moved underneath her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, slowly pushing her mouth down around him. He wanted her to take all of him, to feel the back of her throat as he shoved his length in her mouth. She moaned quietly as she took him, bobbing her head up and down quickly and sloppily. 
Aaron couldn’t remember the last time he got a blow job- let alone the last time someone enjoyed giving him one. (Y/N) was toying with him, clearly enjoying the pleasure she was able to give him just with her tongue. She looked up at him as he was about to cum, winking as she dragged her tongue up his shaft. The eye contact sent him over the edge, causing him to release himself in her mouth. She swallowed his cum happily, kissing him on the cheek and sitting back down on her chair. 
He wanted to go to her, give her what she needed now. But he was exhausted, the exhilaration of her taking away all of his energy. He took another hefty sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He buckled his pants back up and readjusted himself in the seat. 
“Don’t hate me, handsome, but I do have to get some work done. Feel free to sleep on the couch, or watch a movie. I’ll let you know when we get there.” She blew him a kiss, teasing him with a wink before losing herself in her work. He wondered what part of her job she could possibly be doing from the seat of a plane. There was truly so much he didn’t know about her, which made it so much more exciting. 
He finished his drink, watching her work in awe as the plane soared over the Atlantic. He felt himself drifting off and didn’t try to stop it, wanting to be fully rested so he could make the most of his time with her. 
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Paris was unarguably Aaron’s favorite place on Earth. Whenever he told people that, they always kind of chuckled. It was kind of a feminine city, at least that’s what everyone told him. But god, he loved it here. The food, the architecture, the people… but most importantly, it was her. 
She had made every second of his life magical. When they landed, she brought him to a small bakery near the Louvre, where they sipped wine and ate the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. It was only 10 AM when they got there, but nobody seemed to pay them any attention as they drunkenly strolled down the Parisian streets, giggling and kissing and living. 
When they finally sobered up, they made their way to a gorgeous hotel, where (Y/N) got the nicest suite available. They ordered a few bottles of champagne, popping them open as soon as they got inside and helping themselves to many glasses. They drank out on the balcony, overlooking the whole city as they downed more alcohol. 
The suite came equipped with a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, which (Y/N) was begging him to take advantage of. She stripped down in front of him, lighting candles and drawing a tub of steaming water. She took a bottle of champagne into the bathroom and soaked herself in the tub, lavender scented bubbles surrounding her. Aaron couldn’t resist the temptation of her body, so he quickly followed after her, stripping down and slipping in the bubbles with her. 
She sat on his lap, he kissed down the back of her neck and nibbled on her flesh. She moved her butt into him, the softness of her flesh pushing into his cock. 
“I told you, sometimes it’s fun to be adventurous.” 
“I never doubted that. I just think this is all… crazy…” 
“Are you not enjoying yourself?” She giggled, pushing bubbles towards him and splashing around the water. 
“Oh do not play games with me,” he laughed, splashing water towards her. She squealed when the water hit her face, scrunching her nose as she wiped the bubbles from her cheeks. 
“Let’s go,” she smirked, standing up and carefully stepping out of the bath. Her skin was glistening from the water, bubbles dripping down her flesh. He stared in awe at her, obsessed with every curve, every inch of her more perfect than the last. She walked slowly out of the bathroom, her butt wiggling with every step. She was clearly calling for him, begging for him to follow her wherever she went. And he would. He did.
He ran after her carefully, finding her naked body wrapped in the fluffy comforter of the bed. She smiled when she saw him, sitting up and wrapping her hands around his neck. She brought his face towards her, kissing him slowly, allowing their lips to enjoy every second they had with each other. 
Aaron’s hands were gripped on her hips, his naked body grinding into hers. He hadn’t known this feeling for a long time- the feeling of complete and total calm. For the first time in an absurd amount of time, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t thinking of every terrible thing that was happening around him. He was only thinking about her- the way her lips felt on his, the way her body moved… his whole life had so suddenly become wrapped up in her. 
But, the trouble was, nothing good in his life stayed. And it was only a matter of time before the universe took her away, too. 
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The rest of their time in Paris went by in a daze. Most of their time they were either drinking or fucking, taking breaks to walk aimlessly around the Louvre and stroll down the Seine. He was heartbroken when he had to go back, but he did miss his son, and was sure the team was falling apart without him. When they landed back in DC, (Y/N) had a car ready to take Aaron home. 
He had a good hour before Jack would be back, so he used his time to take a long shower and brew a strong pot of coffee. It was almost 7 at night, but his body was still messed up from the change in time zones, and he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep that night. He was already missing her, checking his phone every five minutes to see if she would whisk him away on another adventure. 
But, as he quickly learned, she was the type of person to disappear for a while. Aaron didn’t hear from her for seven full days after Paris. Seven full agonizing days of wondering where she was, who she was with, and most importantly- what she was doing. 
Being away from her made it easier for him to realize the reality of their situation. She was a killer; and yeah, maybe she only killed ‘bad’ people, but did that really make it any better? At least, that was the question he was asking himself. Surprisingly, as more time went on, the harder time he had convincing himself she was a villain. Maybe it was because he was falling in love with her, maybe it was because he understood the anger of watching guilty people walk away from things completely unscathed. 
They didn’t speak about work once during their time together, although it was clear Aaron had a lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she could be doing for Strauss and the Director. Who was she killing that they couldn’t get to the normal way? He wanted to know her life, understand the secrets she spent her existence protecting- but it wasn't for him. And maybe that was for the best. The mystery of it all made it… hotter. 
So when he finally heard from her, seven full days later, he felt like a kid on Christmas. He recognized the ‘unknown’ number as it popped up on the screen, stepping into his office so he could speak with her privately. 
“Hi, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke, her voice singing to him. He loved the way she called him Agent. He loved everything about her. 
“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?” 
“Oh, working. You know.” He could tell she didn’t want to speak any more about work, so he changed the subject. 
“Are you back in DC?” 
“For a bit.”
“Can I see you? Let’s get dinner somewhere. Anywhere.” 
“I… we probably shouldn’t be out together like that… if we saw anyone we knew… your team…” She spoke her words carefully, not sure how to tell him that their relationship wasn’t exactly approved of. Aaron had never really thought about it, but the reality made him sick. Would he never be able to love her publicly? Hold her hand at the park, take her to eat at his favorite restaurant, introduce her to his friends? 
But the adrenaline, the euphoria of being with her- it was worth any negatives. He would eat in the dark with her, hide her in his house, runaway with her… 
“Come over to my place, then. We’ll order pizza, watch a movie.” 
“Hah,” she giggled, her laugh airy and full of light just as he remembered. Hearing it made him smile. “I can’t remember the last time I ordered pizza and watched movies with a boy…” 
“Well, given the circumstances, I have to get creative A.” 
“What about Jack?” 
“Oh,” Aaron responded, forgetting for a moment that she had yet to meet his son. He didn’t think twice about it, wanting his son to know the woman that was bringing him so much joy. But was it safe? And did she want to know him? 
“I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.” 
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Of course.” 
“What is happening between us? Are we just messing around… Is there feelings?” He hated to ask her such a loaded question over the phone, but he needed to know the answer- he had to know if she was just as head over heels as she was. 
“Agent, no man I’ve ever ‘messed around’ with has this number.” 
Aaron chuckled, the nervousness in his chest subsiding. 
“Come over tonight, please,” he begged, craving the way her lips felt on his. 
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Agent.” 
“I’ll see you tonight, A.” 
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Aaron didn’t expect just how wonderful (Y/N) would be with Jack. He had never really seen a maternal side to her before, but she was incredible. Jack took a liking to her as well, even falling asleep between the both of them as they watched Finding Nemo. After they were sure he was asleep, Aaron carried his son to his room and put him to bed, (Y/N) following close behind, in awe of the way Aaron cared for his son. 
“You want a glass of wine?” Aaron whispered to her, the two of them hand in hand as they walked back to the living room. 
“Please!” 
He poured the two of them overly generous glasses of Riesling, snuggling up on the couch next to her and kissing her on the forehead. They tried to find a movie for a bit, scrolling through endless channels before giving up. 
“Can you stay the night?” 
“I wish, but I have to catch an early flight tomorrow,” she frowned, her pout showcasing her perfect lips that he couldn’t get out of his head. 
“Where are you going?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Her face turned pale and emotionless as she thought of a response, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. 
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she responded. 
“I’m sorry.” He felt uncomfortable, not sure exactly what to say to her. They had never had an awkward silence before, and it made him sick as he waited in the quiet for her to respond. 
“I probably should get going,” she finally said, setting her almost empty glass of wine down on the coffee table. 
“Oh, c’mon, we just got some time alone…” he pleaded, but he could tell by the look on her face he had already lost her. 
“I’m sorry, love. I just have a lot to prepare for this case.” 
“I understand. Will I see you soon?” 
“I’ll do my best, Agent.” 
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California was a popular hot spot for serial killers. It seemed like Aaron and the team were there every other week. This time, San Francisco was the lucky city. He had already been there for two days, stuck on an incredibly weird case, when he got the call. 
“Good morning, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke. 
“A… it’s good to hear from you.” He was relieved at the sound of her voice, the dark energy of this specific case seeping into him, choking any optimism out of him. 
“How are things?” 
“I’m working on a tough case, to be honest. It’s taking a lot out of me.” 
“Would it be better if I was there?” 
“How is that possible?” 
“I was… in the area. Set some time aside to stop by.” 
“I’m going to be really busy…” he frowned, realizing now how difficult it would be to actually see her. 
“Oh, Agent, I sure hope you can make time to see me,” she teased, giggling through the phone, her laugh wrapping him in warmth and shielding him from the darkness of reality for a moment. 
“Well, I have to sleep at some point,” he responded, laughing himself. 
“Call me when you get back to your hotel. I’ll be waiting.” 
Aaron hung the phone up quickly, peeking around the corner of the SFPD office they were currently set up in. Luckily, everyone was too busy to listen in on his personal conversations. He wondered what his team would think if they knew what was going on behind closed doors. Would they still stand around and trust the system they were working so hard to uphold? Because Aaron could barely stomach it. 
“Hey, we’ve got a problem,” Derek said, coming around the corner lookingfor his superior. 
“What’s going on?” 
“C’mon into the conference room. Garcia will explain everything.”
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He didn’t make it back to his hotel for another 12 hours. It was nearing 11 PM by the time he finally closed the door and could be done for the day. Although with his job, he was never really off the clock. 
He called (Y/N), pushing aside any exhaustion he had for a moment with her. She was there within twenty minutes, sneaking through the door, giggling and kissing quietly, trying to be secretive. It was risky, extremely risky for them to be together with his team just on the other side of a thin hotel wall. But he couldn’t help himself. A part of him wanted to get caught, be exposed, so they could stop sneaking around. He wanted to love her in front of everyone. 
He forgot about the case briefly as he lost himself in her flesh, kissing her soft skin and making love to her - twice. When the exhaustion finally overcame him, he crawled into her arms and let the horrors of his job overcome him. 
“It’s a bad one, this case,” he divulged, knowing he shouldn’t be telling her the details, but needed a release. He needed to scream, and she was the only one around to hear. 
“What’s going on?” 
“Some CEO’s kid has been going all around the country killing teenage girls. Eevrytime the police get close to him, he just runs. Five different cities, and he’s escaped them all. Thirty six bodies that we can find. Probably more. And he’s going to get away, here, too. Garcia found out he sold his house a few days ago and bought one in Miami.” 
“Well if you know it’s him, why aren’t you arresting him?” (Y/N) had a confused look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips forming a slight pout as she waited for him to respond. 
“We don’t have enough physical evidence. He fits the profile perfectly, and we are able to trace bodies to him in every city he’s lived in. But that’s not good enough for the courts. He’s just going to keep getting away…” Aaron felt his heart pounding, the face of Foyet flashing over and over in his head. 
“Sometimes… the system doesn’t help everybody.” She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes darting nervously around the room. 
“That’s why people like you exist, right? To serve justice to those who escape it.” 
“That’s one way of looking at it.” 
Aaron looked at her, her cheeks flushed and her breathing sporadic. They were thinking the same thing, it was only a guessing game on who would break the silence first. He didn’t think it would be here, she was too nervous. 
“(Y/N)...” he whispered, placing a hand on hers. 
“What are you asking me to do, Agent?” She finally looked up at him, her face flat and emotionless, a side of her she had never shown him before. It was her work face, her business face. 
“I want you to do your job, A.” 
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” 
“It’s the only way to stop him.” 
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” She got up out of the bed and started putting her clothes back on, slowly redressing herself as she prepared to go back to work. She grabbed one of the three phones she carried, hastily dialing a number and putting the old cell to her ear. 
“Hey, it’s me. I need the car here ASAP, and the bag... Yeah, it’s a change of plans. … I’ll tell you in the car.” She hung the call up and put the phone back in her bag, refusing the look at Aaron the entire time she was preparing herself. 
“You’re doing this now?” He laughed, getting up and trying to stop her from leaving. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, her body struggling to get away. She felt tense, tired. Her body was no longer surrounded by it’s usual warm glow. She was cold, and dark. She wasn’t her.
“Agent, if this is what you want, I need to handle it my way. Please let me go.” 
“Will you… can I see you after?” 
“I need to leave the city immediately after it’s done. And it’s best we don't talk for a bit. I can call you when I think things are safe.” 
“How long is a bit? I mean, I don’t want to give you up.” 
“You can’t have both, Aaron. Either I’m (Y/N) or I’m Ananke. Do you want more girls to die? Or do you want a girlfriend?” She was yelling, her voice a loud and intense version of itself that he was unfamiliar with. It made him dizzy. He sat down clumsily on the bed and put his face in his hands. 
“Kill him,” he mumbled. She was quiet for a few seconds, and so was he. And awkward silence. Something they had never had. He felt like she was staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“I’ll call you when I can, Agent. It’s been wonderful working with you.” 
Aaron swore as she walked out the door he could hear her cry. Maybe he was making it up to make himself feel better. There was no way she could walk away that easily and not … hurt. He hurt, so terribly bad. How long was a bit? A few weeks, months? Would he ever see her again? 
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Aaron awoke to a loud banging on his door and his phone buzzing like crazy. The ringer was on, but not loud enough to awaken him from his alcohol assisted slumber. He shouldn’t be drinking on the job, he knew that rule better than anyone. But he had to shut his mind up. 
He opened the door to a rattled Derek Morgan, his forehead sweating and hands shaking. 
“You are not going to believe this,” Derek said, chuckling slightly. 
“What’s going on, Morgan?” Aaron knew what he was going to say, but he had to pretend to be surprised. Would Derek know? He was by far the best profiler on the team. How long could Aaron keep up a lie before Derek figured something out? 
“Our unsub died last night. Car accident. He hit a railing and his car just… exploded.” Derek held his tablet out to Hotch, showing him various photos from the scene. His car was completely crushed and torched. You could see his body, but there was absolutely no way to tell what was happening at the time of the accident. The damage of the car was far too elaborate to find any remnants of explosives- if that’s what she used. But whatever she did, it was brilliant. There was no way anyone would think twice about this. She was brilliant. 
He could feel himself smiling, being impressed with her work- but he remembered Derek was still standing there, unknowing of the secrets Aaron held. 
“Well, I guess we can finally get the hell out of San Francisco,” Aaron laughed. 
“You think this is the end? He just dies in a freak accident and it's over? Are we that lucky, Hotch?” Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed in the classic way his face always looked when he was suspicious. 
“He’s not around to hurt anyone else, and that’s the end of it. Our jobs are done here. I want wheels up in an hour.” 
Derek just nodded in agreement with his supervisor, realizing it wasn’t worth the argument. Aaron was right, the bad guy was gone and that was good enough for him. 
Aaron closed the door to his hotel, grabbing his phone and dialing her number. He had assumed she’d already disconnected the line, severing their connection for the time. But it rang, and somebody answered. 
“A…?” he whispered, waiting for her voice. 
“You shouldn’t be calling this number,” a man responded, a voice he recognized as Jays. 
“I know, I know, but please. Please just tell her something for me.” Jay was silent for a moment, deciding what to do. 
“... What?” He asked, quietly. 
“Please just tell her I said thank you. For everything.” 
And then the phone disconnected. The call was over. She was gone. For who knows how long? 
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One week later, SSA Aaron Hotchner was sitting in his office when Erin Strauss walked through his door. She didn’t knock, which made him jump. She walked right in and sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath. A disappointed sigh. 
“Hello, Erin.” 
“Agent Hotcher.” She looked at him angrily, her lips pursed and eyes tight as she thought of her words. 
“What can I do for you?” 
“In all honesty, Aaron… did you think we wouldn’t find out? You are a federal agent. Your passport is flagged any time you enter a foreign country. You were in Paris at the same time as her. And then San Francisco? She was there on assignment and your uncatchable unsub just happens to turn up dead?” 
“Am I fired?” He asked, his only thought on what they were doing to her. 
“Aaron… what are you doing? You are losing yourself! If this is about Haley…”  
“Just tell me something. What are you going to do to her?” He bit his lip nervously, Erin avoiding his eye contact.
“Right now she’s being relocated, on a six month assignment. We’ll see what happens after that.” 
“Where?” 
“You know I can’t tell you that!” 
Aaron sat for a moment, completely unsure of what to say next. Maybe Erin was right, he had lost himself. He would’ve never imagined himself in this situation. 
“What do I do now?” 
“You move on. And you do your job, the right way. I’ll cut you some slack this time, Aaron. But if this happens again… there will be consequences. Do you understand?” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
Erin walked out of his office quietly, closing the door as she left. He waited a moment, a long moment, before pulling out his phone. He had to at least try to talk to her. Even if the number didn’t work. He had to try. 
But it rang. And this time he knew it was her who answered. 
“Agent.” She answered sharply. 
“Where are you?” 
“I’m still in DC, as of now.” 
“If I asked you to stay, would you?” 
“You know it doesn’t work like that. Either I go, or they send me to prison. I’m sorry, Aaron. But this… was destined to fail from the beginning.” 
“No, (Y/N). I don’t accept that. I love you.” 
“You can’t. I’m sorry, Agent. This is goodbye.” 
233 notes · View notes
shoezuki · 4 years
Text
This is a post on the cheating accusations around dream mostly surrounding his response video.
If you don’t want to see this or any of these posts then blacklist the tag #discourse
SO I’ve been doing a lot of digging into what dream has said in his response to Geosquare’s original video and report, which was compiled and conducted by the Minecraft Java mods on speedrun.com. 
I won’t talk about that original report in detail, but basically: the mods came to the conclusion that Dream had a 1 in 7.5 trillion chance of getting the pearl bartering rates and the blaze drop odds that he did within the 6 streams he did. As in, someone would need that luck to replicate what dream got. Therefore, he cheated. 
I’m going to put this into a sort of ‘point form’ in according to topic, attempting to put it in chronological order.
Dream’s Initial Tweets
Ok so first like. these are bad. these tweets are what he said (on twitter, excluding in the speedrunning discord) directly after the video was Uploaded to Geo’s channel. 
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worth noting he did apologize later, although i wanted to talk about these two instances so i felt the need to include it. 
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there’s a lot of interesting wording in the apology tweet itself too. I personally find that when he apologizes he tends to still be very subtextually angry in them with the tone, but more specifically. where he says ‘although i have reason to be upset’, that’s kinda weak and really unneeded. Alongside the ‘intense criticism’, it reads as him trying to say he’s still in the right. kind of like “im sorry i was rude even though I had reason to be rude’. Its an apology sure but he’s not saying sorry for how he really reacted; its justified to him.
Dream’s Response Video
Dream posted a response on his side channel DreamXD on the 22nd, along with the report he had a supposed astrophysicist conduct. I’m going to talk about the report separately from the video for reasons I’ll explain. 
Frankly, the video doesn’t really summarize or explain the report in a meaningful way. At most, it takes some points from it but tends to twist the numbers around, misunderstand the probability and math, and also what the report itself concludes. 
Essentially, dream’s video insists that the numbers found by the mods are wrong and therefore he didn’t cheat at all, yet the report concludes that the numbers found by the mods weren’t entirely accurate, however they’re still extremely unlikely. This is also all under the assumption that the report is entirely correct (ill say how its not next)
His first point is that only his 1.16 run (that was at 5th place two months ago, would have now been 16th) was deemed cheated. This is true; the mods have said that he isnt banned outright and theres no reason to question the legitimacy of his 1.15 runs. 
He also concludes that Geo’s statement that Dream didn’t cooperate with them, and that he deleted 1.16 mod folders, was false. This one is a little more complicated. It could more be chalked up to a miscommunication, although it’s relevant. Geosquare posted screenshots of the specific conversation they had:
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Essentially it wasn’t entirely clear, i can understand how geo and the mods interpreted it in such a way. Altho April added in a quote retweet thread that dream didn’t supply the folder she asked for, so he didn’t supply everything they asked for like he states in the video
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Essentially: yeah, misleading and weird on both ends. I dont think this is really anything quantifiable, although dream talked about this in the video heavily. 
Out of this though, Geo DID correct himself in the description of the mods’ video. Dream shows this in his own response, but it crops out some of what geo says. here’s from dream’s video
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that Update 2 is where he corrects himself. literally why the fuck would you crop it like this and put it in the video i mean this looks so weird and genuinely doesnt provide anything. Here’s what geo actually said
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Dream specifically cut it before the line where geo mentions how he said he deleted his specific 1.16 speedrun profile. This one is just so dumb to me. I’d say ‘why not include that’ but either i feel its a) so there’s no potential for people to say what he had actually said could be interpreted otherwise easily or b) doesnt want people to know he got so upset he deleted files (ego wise yknow). Again, I dont think this is definitive of anything but god. it feels scummy lmao
The Video: Incorrect Representation of His Own Report
Dream straight up doesnt present the report’s numbers properly. In fact it makes the entirety of his visuals forfeit, i.e. the gold block analogy that goes on for like 20 minutes. 
The mods said his luck was 1/7.5 trillion. Dream’s report says its 1/10 million (with the addition of 5 other streams) or 1/100 million (only the 6 streams).
I’ll only consider the 1/10 mil odds, since its all dream really brings up. but Basically; there’s not much difference between 1/10 million and 1/7.5 trillion. 
Dream says that the difference is 7.5 trillion minus 10 million, aka 7.4999 trillion. This is what his entire visual with the gold blocks is based on. This is absolutely incorrect, i cant stress that enough. 
You can’t find the difference of fractions by subtracting only the denominators. Like. this is elementary school math. it just doesnt work. 
It’d actually be calculated as: (1/10 000 000) - (1/7 500 000 000 000) = (74999/7 500 000 000 000)
If the mods are wrong, they’re only wrong by 749999/7.5 trillion. that’s literally only  0.000000099999866666667. 
Dream no doubt saw the numbers, considered 10 million vs. 7.5 trillion, and used these big numbers to hold his own point. PROBABILITY DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT. I really think he was just taking advantage of the seemingly big numbers here and wrote it out in a way that favoured him. The gold block analogy in the video played throughout the entire video practically, jokes were made on it, and he made a point of it being ‘so big the game crashed’. 
It’s just plain wrong. even so a difference in the odds doesnt prove shit. He’s downplaying his own odds that he found too. 1/10 million isnt a small number. Even though the legitimacy of that calculation is in question, it is still significant enough to proclaim he cheated. 
Some quick points before I move onto the report; these aren’t as significant in my eyes but it adds to the picture
there’s been criticism of his joking manor throughout the entire video, very specifically the Bill Nye joke. Considering he doesnt actually have a name to provide for his astrophysicist, this joke doesnt feel right
the mod he had a voice clip from (willz) even believes that he cheated and has agreed with the mod team the whole time. 
Dream never has a name for the mod who is apparently on his side (more understandable), the minecraft developer he quoted, or the astrophysicist (most damning)
Dream states that fabric is used by most speedrunners which is true, but fabric and fabric API are different; dream also had the latter installed. my knowledge of how theyre different is limited, all i really know is the API is what can enable editing of the code while fabric is more a modloader. im not entirely sure on this
Dream has said at the end of the video that all funds will go to the mod team so they can make a client that will regulate cheaters. this has been noted as feeling manipulative or like a ‘bribe’, but it definitely puts the mods in a bad position. 
either they accept it and look like they ‘gave in’ to dream and therefore acknowledge him in the right
they deny it and look selfish/taking dream’s kindness for granted
geo said they would insist it goes to a charity instead
Dream constantly disregards the mods as young, inexperienced, ‘just volunteers’ etcetcetc, despite the fact that theyre analysis has been discussed by people with confirmed PhDs without much criticism
Dream’s Report
The report itself is extremely interesting, in that it’s very questionable, but even so it doesn’t come to the conclusion that dream didn’t cheat. The tone between the video and the report is drastically different. 
This is from the “3. What are the goals of this document?” section:
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It essentially says this isnt intended, from the very beginning, to completely exonerate dream of cheating. Also note that the author says the mods’ report was mostly correct. 
This is at the end of “9 Conclussions”:
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It does notably say cheating isnt the only explanation, but it doesnt actually go as far to say that it’s not possible that he cheated. 
But this can be argued to not matter if we consider the validity of the report as a whole
Dream’s Report: Criticisms
Possibly the first and most known debunking of the report is by u/mfb on reddit, although there’s been much more such as this programmer criticizing the code provided at the end of the report (partially due to how the author of it stated that piglins barter 4-7 pearls, which is incorrect: it’s 4-8), Andrew Gelman, an actual statistician professor from harvard, commented on the original mods’ report as ‘impressive’ while Dream’s report is being regarded as something funny in the comments, and even analysis of dream’s behaviours and his argument by a law student
But what u/mfb posted is what i’ll focus on. Some background into the user; he’s a particle physicist, is moderator in subreddits like r/cosmology and r/astrophysics, he’s regarded as a reliable source on r/askscience and r/askreddit. Basically, multiple other people have vouched for him and before all this he had many posts in these fields. 
that’s already better than the unnamed astrophysicist. 
The post is better speaking for itself but here is a few exerpts from it;
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Essentially, the report’s methods are debunked by u/mfb-, alongside that a moderator of r/statistics regarded the report as ‘nonsensical in its application of statistics’ and linked to u/mfb-’s comment. 
i’m going to end this here. Partially because severe backpain or whatever,.
but I want to say at this point its practically definitive that dream cheated, that he lied to us, and that he continues to do so. Much more could be said on his video such as his tone, intentions, the overt emphasis on the ‘biases’ of the mods. 
I havent even mentioned that the ‘astrophysicist’ themself may be a scam; they are sourced from a website that is extremely sketchy, has no names attached to it, and was created less than a year ago (with practically no traffic on it until maybe a month ago). 
But i hope this is coherent. I have interest in this so if theres questions im always open. 
60 notes · View notes
jinnyu · 4 years
Note
Number 51 with Bede and a male/enby reader? :O! I rarely find anyone who's willing to write for non female coded readers so im really glad I found your blog!
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Used artwork credit here
A/N: i got the name of the prompt wrong but we dont speak of that— ANYWHO, im glad i could get the chance to write this for you then, anon! Yeah i rarely came across blogs that are gender neutral about their imagines too :/ hopefully you'll enjoy this though!
(7,915 Word Count!)
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Bede wasn't quite the type to show his concern over others, even when he got close to you and developed feelings for you. He's not used to express his emotions other than being cocky and looking down upon others. But this time, it was different.
You promised him that you'll help him out for the day at his gym, considering its the time where numerous of challengers comes barging in the stadium, asking for the badge that'll get them to the next gym leader. Bede didn't mind them, he never did. It was just that some of them were starting to get to his nerves; challengers bringing their toxitricity to the stadium and using sound based moves, blaring right in his ears— oh for Arceus's sake, let the battle end already, the poor boy's ears are becoming somewhat sensitive if they kept doing that repeatedly.
That being said, he waited and waited for you to come, but eventually, you never did. He pondered over what happened to that awfully irritating (yet lovable) rival of his as he walked out of his gym, telling his assistants to close it for the day and inform the challengers to screw off. He got better things to do than to listen to those damned pokemon singing and spatting poison out of their mouth, hurting his little fairy friends.
"Oh whats with you today" The white haired boy murmured under his breath, looking at his rotom phone and deciding to call you. Sure he has thought of the many possibilities of you being busy due to your new Champion of Galar title, but never even once you bailed him like this— or so he thought.
A heavy string of huffing was heard on the other side of the phone, which makes Bede rise his eyebrow and question about what in Galar are you doing at the moment. His mouth stayed shut while waiting for you to ramble out your explanation, well, an explanation he deserves to know.
Why you ask? Because beneath that smug exterior of his, he's deeply concerned when it comes to you. Tell him a fake information that you've been defeated by some random kid and he'll immediately abandon his gym, looking all pissed and irritated as he stomp his way out of the place. Oh what he wouldn't do just to see your smile.
Though, would he admit that? No, even in the name of Arceus, he wont.
Then, finally you answered with voice indicating that you're slightly tired, "Oh, uh, B-Bede!!" You exclaimed, trying to sound as alright as you could. He could hear you dusting your clothes as you speak, Cinderace in the background chirping with other pokemon playing around the area. Oh boy, you have a lot of explaining to do.
The white haired boy tapped his foot against the ground , waiting for you to finish your sentence. He also asked his Galarian Rapidash to track your scent down, and lead him to you, in the most quickest way possible. You're probably having trouble with your pokemon again, or getting surrounded by your fans, one of the two.
Still, its most likely you're experiencing the first scenario, looking at how you're more active in the wild area rather than in cities. "Enough said, im going where you are right now," Bede said in a stern tone, making your eyes widen a tad bit. You didn't even get the chance to explain to him! You only greeted him and yet he's going to visit where you are right now? Holy Suicune, you're a mess.
"Stay there, dont move"
A sigh slipped past your lips as Bede hung up. Better get going and make yourself somewhat decent then. You were chasing a Galarian Zapdos, one of the legendary bird trio and it didn't go well. The lightning avian clearly lived up to its name by having a lightning speed under it's wings, which made you tumble down your bike a few times while trying to get close to the said legendary pokemon.
It's worth it though, now Zapdos is right infront of you with a soothe bell tied loosely around it's neck, lowering it's head down waiting for you to give it affection. Its cute really, and you wondered if Bede will like this newly captured pokemon of yours. On the other hand, he might not like the scratches you got from falling off your bike, and tripping over baby pokemons— no worries, no pokemon were harmed during this process of capturing Zapdos.
Of course it hurts when you tried to patch your wounds up, some of it were caused by the legendary electric bird itself as you were trying your best not to harm the said pokemon in the process of capturing it. Zapdos did express concern over you when it saw you slightly in a pinch trying to capture it though, and it tried to make you feel better by occassional nuzzling against you, sparking electricity in your hair.
Its never a dull moment in the wild area, Really.
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Half an hour passed and your said knight in shining armo— i mean Bede- Bede finally arrived with his Galarian Rapidash.
His eyes widened the moment he saw you visibly being a mess, not minding about the legendary pokemon thats taking a seat beside you as an act of cheering you up. He looks irritated, annoyed and slightly pissed when he saw you not taking care of yourself properly— you never did, you're careless, the wounds will heal anyways and your pokemon will help it heal, thats why you didn't mind it much.
The fairy type gym leader immediately makes his way to you as his Rapidash follows close behind him, incase he needed assistance.
"You...What happened?"
Bede lifted your left arm up as you faced him while he was examining your wounds. You stayed quiet until he looks up at you again, Violet eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.
You didn't answer his question and you simply gestured at the legendary bird pokemon beside you, no other explanation can be better that that anyways, and you're not in the mood to waste your energy by talking too much.
Bede blinked a few times as he finally recognized that you have captured a Galarian Zapdos, the Galarian Zapdos that's said to rule over thunderstorms and making a nest between the electrifying clouds right before a storm starts. Basically the Zeus of Galar, if you will. He was quite amused to say the least, though he didn't expect less from the Champion, but risking your life just to capture a legendary? Yup, thats his rival alright, you and and that reckless stubborn head of yours, not to mention you're often oblivious to Bede's acts of care and affection, resulting in the white haired boy blushing intensely.
A sigh slipped past Bede's lips as he rubbed a potion over your wound, followed by a hiss of pain from your side. You wanted to yank your hand off his hold, "Bede, its alright, i can take care of myself" you muttered as you watched the male infront of you carefully spreading the healing liquid over your wounds, trying his best not to hurt you by doing so.
His Violet eyes looked up at you, then looked back down on your wound, not caring about your complaints.
"Let me take care of you," He said as he was preventing the subtle blush from slowly dusting his milky white cheeks; his fingers that were gently massaging that one specific area on your arm stopped before he checked for your other arm- which, you obliged and gave him your other arm to inspect without any hesitation.
What surprised you the most is that he muttered out those six specific words. The words that you thought would never leave past his lips whatsoever, and yet here you are sitting on a giant rock with him treating your wounds from before as he insisted on taking care of you.
Why does he care so much?
"Bede i said—" before you could continue his sentence, his grip on your arm suddenly tightened by a bit, afraid of you yanking your arm off.
"I want to take care of you." the tone he was using was so sweet, so kind and sincere as if its not Bede who said that; it was slightly shaky too, probably caused by him gradually becoming even more flustered by his honest feelings. This only made you smile warmly, seeing how well Bede is taking care of you— you just remembered that you two are supposed to be in the Fairy Type gym by now, helping the said gym leader with handling the oncoming bundles of challengers.
You, being the oblivious Champion that you are, laughed softly and nudged your cheek against his in an affectionately way while saying a light-hearted thank you along the way. You let the boy take care of you and your wounds as Zapdos stayed quiet by your side, observing the two of you and your actions. You're completely calm and amazed by Bede's knowledge when it comes to potions and healing stuff. Maybe you should learn a few things from him after this then.
Bede on the other hand was a complete mess. Oh how the tables have turned. Your little action of nuzzling against his cheek made him turn beet red; various shades of red covering his cheeks and spreading towards his ears. He avoided any eye contact with you, he knew better than to say anything and embarrass himself even more on the spot, so he stayed quiet, and let you do your silly little affectionate actions. He enjoyed it anyways— not that he'd admit it.
"D-dont do that so sudden next time."
He managed to croak out, voice slightly different from before caused by the amount of blood rushing to his face and ears, not to mention his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Arceus- this feeling is so sickeningly lovely, he hated it, and yet he also loved it. You replied with a soft 'Mhm' before he continues to treat your wounds.
Oh its never a dull moment with you.
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fairycosmos · 4 years
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grief makes me think such bitter thoughts. i think she (mine, not yours of course) had it so easy. got in bed, injected herself, peacefully went without even knowing. now im here debating what will leave the least gruesome corpse bc i dont want to traumatize nobody. now im feeling trapped bc another death im going to throw on my loved ones?it seems so bc life is imposssible. but how easy she fucking had it. i dont even want to see her again after im gone. i hate her for trapping me in this hell
i know what you mean. i'm the same. at least, i'm at a total loss as to how she just went to sleep and never woke up. and now i'm in this hell version of reality without her, now i'm going to have to deal with a whole lifetime without her. bc of one messed up choice she made. it doesn't even feel like something that should be possible. i feel cheated and indignant like a little kid. honestly, grief makes you think and feel all sorts of things. you don't have to justify or explain any of them to anyone. the process of managing it is not a linear, fast or simple one. these emotions come and go in new ways, in cycles, in memories, in avalanches. and the only thing we can do is sit with them. it's fucking awful. personally, i am just trying to accept being completely and utterly and irreparably ruined. i'm trying to understand that there is no way out, and that i have a right to be fucking angry. you have a right to be angry. every time i talk out loud to my sister i end lecturing her like a pissed off teacher, or just apologising over and over. it doesn't help, but i've got nothing left to lose by trying these things - screaming at her, drawing her, breaking completely. wrote her a letter for the first time today too. none of this means i'm coming to terms, in fact every day i feel worse in a different manner. don't know if its the same for you.
it's hard with drugs because you cant help going over it all in your head. it's not fully an illness, not fully an accident. you can't help just wanting to shake the person and make them truly listen to you. you cant help feeling completely incredulous. i also see it the same way, as if i'm trapped. i am trapped. i kept saying i wasn't going to kill myself after she died because like you, i didn't want to throw another death at my family. i still don't. they would buckle under the weight of this pain x 2, and i wouldn't blame them. i understand that, so i'm trying to stick around because now that i've experienced this i cant imagine causing it. i don't want to stay, but i have to for the moment. no long term commitments. just knowing i have to deal with tomorrow. and that's all it takes, the awareness of having no option but to wake up in the short term, to minimize the potential grief of your death. you discard the option because it isn't one, no matter how desperate you are. if that makes you even angrier, that's understandable. i hope you can keep trying, too. just in general. try to go on. try not to think about the far future, what you're going to do, how you're going to cope. truth is you probably won't know until you're in the situation. i know this is the last thing you want to hear and i also feel entirely misunderstood when people say it to me, but please don't act drastically. if you feel like you're at risk of harming yourself, please let your family know, or a professional/hotline. for your sake, and the sake of your loved ones. talking about it is like cleansing a wound. awful, necessary, you know. while people may not fully understand, they do to an extent and it can help a little to accept that you're not alone in your grief. even just to say it all out loud, and to break down and be witnessed in your break down, can temporarily alleviate the weight. i know we're going to carry this forever, and it's never really going to get better. but people do keep telling me the things that trigger that intense feeling of total devastation/rage lessen with time. people keep telling me you learn to keep the person around, that you learn to continue on your relationship with them despite their death. even if it'll never be the same ever again. idk how true any of it is, i just know it's worth it for you to get through today, just to see for yourself. it's normal to be angry, dude. they left us here in the most impossible, unbearable, imaginable situation without any form of escape. no one would blame you for being bitter for the rest of your life, and it's okay if you are. it'll grow and change as you grow and change, even if in some form it always remains. it's also okay if the feeling eventually dissolves into something else. ultimately there's no wrong way to do this. every moment that you continue forward is, in and of itself, more than good enough . sending so much love your way. i'm so sorry for your loss 😔 💕
https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines
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claire-willz · 4 years
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I want you to know the number you did on me. I want you to know how badly you fucked me up. I can lie through my teeth and say how over you i am, and how i'm doing good now and I'm in a better mental state and whatever the fuck. I mean I think i am? I'm not 15 and self harming and shit anymore, I don't do the same shit I did back then. I don't know if I'm in a better mental state, or if I've literally just grown up. You fucking broke me. You broke my spirit, you broke my soul.You were so fucking mean to me, I still, 8 years later have your voice in my head mocking everything I do, including writing this bullshit. You fucking ruined me. My life and who I am would have been so different if I had never met you. I mean fuck, i was so desperate to get over you I started sleeping around with anyone who would give me the time of day, which eventually lead me to be a prositute because i thought 'i do it anyway but for free, why not get paid for it?'. In this whatever post I plan to be as vunerable as i can be, and in that, I feel like I'm worth fuck all because I was a prostitute. Because of you. 8 years later and saying your name feels like I'm spitting fire, my stomach turns and i get this rush of emotions, love, hate, heartbreak, guilt.. 6 years ago, I tried to take my own life. I remember thinking how when it worked you would say 'well she was actually strong enough to do it, never thought she would'. But It didnt so.. 5 years ago, I had the biggest depression breakdown to date which cost me not one but two hospital admissions in the space of 24 hours, and I remeber worrying that you would find out because I wanted you to know I had changed even though we hadn't spoken in 2 and a half years. I was depressed, the pressure that you still put over me to be everything i never was that you wanted collapsed me i suppose. Mix that with me trying to be a better person for you and never feeling like it was enough because you fucking hate me and honestly, i see myself the way you do, or did, been too long now, maybe after 8 years you changed your mind? just in case you came back, just in case. I don't remember the sound of your voice, I barely remember what you look like. I don't remember your likes and dislikes, I don't remember your traits and hobbies, But i remember how you made me feel. And I know, because ive been telling myself for years that i need to forgive you, and I think i have, But if i really had, I wouldn't be writing this, so i don't know. Everything I did to the drugs I smoked, the alochol I drank, the people I considered friends and the men i slept with was all to get over you, and in return... I got cripping anxiety as a result from all of it. My psychologists says that to me, you represented everything i wanted at the time even if it wasn't who you were. You represented the love i wanted from my dad, you represented a happy life, you represented acceptance and approval, stability, just everything I didn't have and never did have that subconsiously I always wanted.. and yes, you did put me into therapy, not soley you, but you did. You're right, I am crazy, and i blame you for it, you made me crazy then got mad when I was. But what i wanna know, is how the FUCK do i fix this mess you made, they say time heals all wounds but i disagree, a shitload of water has run under the bridge, every single cell in my body has changed, but the time hasn't healed the wounds its caused a huge infection, the water running under the bridge has stopped running and turned into a lake, the cells in my body still crave you and still yearn for your smell and the sound of your voice saying 'stress less baby'. If i could still remember, it would ring in my ears, but its hard too when your voice is basically forgotten in my memory. I don't know how to get over you, I've tried literally everything. Hypnotism, medication, drugs, alochol, sex (and alot of it), I've tried dating other guys,I've written you letters and burnt them,Ive talked about you in depth to that many fucking people its embarrasing, yet I'm still here. Saturday night and i'm still missing the absolute shit out of you and I'm still hurt over you, stalking any only tumblr profile that has even the hint of your existence then feeling my stomach turn when i remember how it felt when you did the things you did to me. Its like its october 2012 all over again, it feels the exact fucking same and I don't know why. I hate it, I wish it could stop but I really am convinced that I never will. I won't get over you, the damange you did won't heal. I hate you, I hate you so much it literally lets my skin aflame, but I would do absolutely anything to have you back in my life. I don't think I'll get this happy ever after I've been dreaming of, I don't think I'll find someone and get married. I wish you never existed, because this isnt normal. The feelings and everything i go through daily still isn't normal. And i wish it wasn't like this. 24/7 you're torturing me. And i mean youre happy now, you have a wife and a kid, you moved on so long ago I'd be suprised if you ever remembered me. You won't ever read this, and i hope you don't. Maybe this is just another lame attempt to get over you, it won't work, but helps the pain for a little while. Being completly vunerable and honest in a 'letter' isn't something ive done yet. The rest that i wrote were all bullshit on how i forgive you and how i dont love you anymore and how i am doing so much better than you ever thought possible and blah blah blah. All lies, they feel real at the time and maybe they are, but when its moments like these that are so fucking raw the truth just comes out and i'm here, thinking of you and hating everything thats happened. I see my life and three sections, before you, during you, and after you. Before you life was easy, during you.. life was amazing and intense and extreme, after you is pain and denial. Its embarrasment and sadness. Evens bandaids fall off, even stitches get infected. Open wounds sometimes stay open. And its your fault. Maybe if you did come back life would get easier for me, maybe i wouldn't hear your voice, maybe I would go crazy on you again. I know i did awful things to you, but were they that awful? I did them because i was hurt, but you did worse too, and you never owned up to it, and yet youre still the victim in my eyes, even though you moved on and you don't feel the way i feel. I am the victim here, not you and fuck you for thinking that, fuck me for thinking that, I'm just as bad for viewing you that way, I could probably choose not too, but its so embedded into my subconsious i don't see any other way to view you. Because i hate you like you were the bad guy, and love you like you were the victim. It would have been easier if you died, not gonna lie about that. If you had died, my life would be easier. I don't mean that as 'i wish you were dead', but i mean that if you hadnt of left my by choice, it would probbaly be easier to deal with. I know ive changed as a person, i made alot of mistakes and i grew up and grew from them which is something every single person has done and yet i feel your judgement in the harshest way for every single one of them. I carry the guilt for the things that i did as if i did them to you, the one i cared/care about most. I don't know how well this explains everything within me ranting about shit and whatever, but i tried.
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