#Assignment Writting

[stevehenryblogger]

How Online Architecture Thesis Help Simplifies Academic Challenges

Completing a thesis in architecture is a demanding task that requires creativity, technical knowledge, and extensive research. For many students, balancing these demands with other responsibilities can be overwhelming. Online architecture thesis help offers a convenient and effective solution, enabling students to overcome academic challenges while delivering high-quality work. In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of online thesis assistance and how it simplifies the process for architecture students.

1. Accessibility and Convenience

One of the primary advantages of online architecture thesis help is its accessibility. Students can connect with experts from anywhere, eliminating the need for physical meetings. This convenience allows students to manage their time better, especially when juggling coursework, internships, and personal commitments.

Online platforms are available 24/7, ensuring that students can seek assistance at any time. Whether it’s a last-minute query or ongoing guidance, the flexibility of online services ensures that help is always within reach.

2. Expert Support Tailored to Architecture

Architecture is a specialized field that requires a deep understanding of design principles, technical specifications, and academic standards. Online thesis help connects students with experts who have experience in both academic writing and architecture. These professionals provide tailored support, ensuring that the thesis aligns with the student’s vision and academic requirements.

From topic selection to the final draft, online experts guide students through every step of the process. They help incorporate theoretical concepts, practical applications, and design elements, resulting in a well-rounded and impactful thesis.

3. Time Management and Efficiency

Balancing the demands of an architecture program can be challenging. Online thesis help allows students to delegate time-consuming tasks such as research, writing, and formatting to professionals. This delegation frees up valuable time, enabling students to focus on other priorities like project presentations or exam preparation.

By streamlining the thesis writing process, online services help students meet deadlines without compromising on quality. This efficiency is particularly beneficial for students with tight schedules or overlapping academic commitments.

4. Quality Assurance and Originality

Maintaining high standards of quality is crucial for any thesis. Online architecture thesis help services ensure that every aspect of the thesis meets academic requirements. Professional writers conduct thorough research, use credible sources, and follow proper formatting guidelines to produce a polished document.

Additionally, these services guarantee originality by using advanced plagiarism detection tools. Students can rest assured that their thesis is unique, academically sound, and free of errors.

5. Collaborative Learning Experience

Online thesis help platforms foster a collaborative learning environment. Students can interact with experts, ask questions, and provide feedback throughout the writing process. This collaboration helps students gain a deeper understanding of their thesis topic and enhances their academic knowledge.

The collaborative nature of online services ensures that the final thesis reflects the student’s ideas and insights while benefiting from professional expertise. This approach creates a document that is both personalized and academically rigorous.

6. Cost-Effective Solutions

Contrary to popular belief, online thesis help services are often affordable and designed to fit student budgets. Many platforms offer flexible pricing options based on the scope of work, ensuring that students receive quality assistance without financial strain.

For architecture students, investing in professional thesis help is a cost-effective way to achieve academic success while reducing stress and workload.

Why Choose Writees for Online Architecture Thesis Help?

Writees is a trusted provider of online thesis assistance for architecture students. Here’s what sets us apart:

Experienced Experts: Our team includes professionals with expertise in architecture and academic writing.

Customized Support: We tailor our services to meet individual needs and academic goals.

Plagiarism-Free Content: Advanced tools ensure originality and quality.

Timely Delivery: We prioritize deadlines and deliver work on time.

24/7 Availability: Our platform provides round-the-clock support for students worldwide.

Conclusion

Online architecture thesis help is a game-changer for students facing academic challenges. From accessibility and expert guidance to time efficiency and quality assurance, the benefits are undeniable. Writees is here to simplify your thesis journey, offering reliable and professional support every step of the way. Don’t let the stress of thesis writing hold you back—reach out to Writees today and achieve your academic goals with confidence.

[needlesscontrarian]

Referring to an opposition to divorce as "culturally protestant" might be the most embarrassing thing I've ever read on this site. Bud, there's an entire nation that is Protestant BECAUSE a guy wanted to get divorced. Please be for real right now.

[kkglinka]

I'm looking around at all the immigrants and naturalized citizens who voted republican because they're conservative, because they come from evangelical or catholic backgrounds and... How many of them routinely and unwittingly violate their oath of naturalization.

The biggest offender is blatantly taking advantage of their native citizenship to benefit from govt services not afforded to non residents. Part of naturalization is renouncing that birth citizenship.

For years, while trump was in office last time, my bank's website kept asking if I held dual citizenship. This is absolutely irrelevant to holding an account. That was ICE working through financial institutions to entrap immigrants.

The second biggest offender is participating in groups or organizations considered to be seditious or domestic terrorists by the FBI. Who decides which groups count? Guess! See if you can guess. Fun fact, the silly, goofy society for creative anachronism was investigated as such, years ago, and remains classified as the united states' largest (non hostile) civilian militia.

[sparklehoard]

30, 31, 35

30(already answered)

31) also already answered bur 3 facts are repeatable. 1. When I was a a kid my leg faced too far inward. The elementary school had funds for physical therapy but they over-corrected and then the funds ran out so now my right legs faces too far out in my natural stance and walk. 2. When I was 9 I was 5'9ft tall. Looking at my school photos where they made me stand with the teacher in school photos im almost a whole foot taller than the rest of my classmates. 3. I kind of stole one of those Herb growers that use solar light to grow herbs in the kitchen. My mom had it sitting in it's box for 3 years and I took it and zip tied it to my beds headboard. I've been using it to fight the winter depression and I think it's working quite well.

35. Favorite subject was art. I do love art still but looking back I kind of hated text based assignments. Having the teacher tell you yours was the most interesting to read. Having the teach use your essay in an example of a good job. And then getting it back and you got graded a c+ for grammar mistakes. Like I understand for English and language classes but it felt bad that even if you were excelling you couldn't get a decent grade for the little things as a young kid. Art was something I felt didn't hold me back in that way.

[saltedsolenoid]

i am so . Unreasonably tired

[alien-dud3]

I was sad that there was no fan content of my favorite rarepair but then I remembered that I can draw AND write soo...

[sleep02sunshiine]

I hate people, who fuck up a persons text when doing a pass around writting assignment.

Had to do one of those today.

Two girls completely ruined anothers girl's text by writting:

[cringe warning]

"He whispered into my ear <you are coming home with me>"

[expertacademicassignmenthelp]

Leukemia in Children

Introduction

Leukemia in children presents a formidable challenge, demanding meticulous management and treatment. This detailed discussion aims to devolve into various facets of childhood leukemia, encompassing its definition, types, causes, risk factors, symptoms, diagnosis, treatment modalities, potential complications, preventive measures, and strategies for supporting a child living with leukemia.

Understanding Leukemia in Children

1. Definition

Leukemia is a hematological malignancy affecting the blood and bone marrow. Its prominence in childhood stems from the rapid proliferation of abnormal blood cells, disrupting the delicate balance within the body.

2. Types of Blood Cells

Understanding the roles of

Red blood cells (erythrocytes),

2.platelets (thrombocytes), and

3.white blood cells (leukocytes)

Is fundamental. An imbalance in these cells results in a spectrum of symptoms, from anemia to increased infection susceptibility.

3. Types of Leukemia

. Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia (ALL): Predominant in children.

Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML): The second most common type.

Hybrid or Mixed Lineage Leukemia: A rare amalgamation of ALL and AML.

Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (CML): Uncommon in children.

Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (CLL): Extremely rare in pediatric cases.

Juvenile Myelomonocytic Leukemia (JMML): A rare type with unique growth characteristics.

Causes and Risk Factors

1. Causes

The exact etiology of childhood leukemia remains elusive. Genetic mutations in bone marrow cell genes may occur sporadically or, in some instances, be inherited.

2. Risk Factors

Exposure to Radiation.

Particularly high levels.

Inherited Syndromes.

Down syndrome.

Li-Fraumeni syndrome.

Immune System Conditions.

Inherited disorders affecting immune function.

Family History.

Having a sibling with leukemia elevates the risk.

Symptoms of Leukemia in Children

A diverse array of symptoms underscores leukemia’s impact on children, including;

.Pale skin

. Fatigue

.Dizziness

.Headaches

.Shortness of breath

.Frequent infections

.Fever

. Easy bruising

.Bleeding

.Bone or Joint pain, and

.Abdominal swelling.

Diagnosis:

1. Procedures:

.Blood Tests (Complete Blood Count — CBC): Essential for initial assessment.

Bone Marrow Aspiration or Biopsy: Crucial in detecting leukemia cells.

Lab Tests: Precisely determine leukemia type.

Diagnostic Imaging: X-rays, ultrasound,

lymph node biopsy, and

Lumbar puncture offer a comprehensive diagnostic perspective.

2. Classification

Unlike other cancers, leukemia is not staged but rather classified into groups, subtypes, or both based on type and specific characteristics, aiding in targeted treatment approaches.

Treatment Options:

1. Primary Treatments:

Blood Transfusions: Address low blood counts, bleeding, or infections.

Chemotherapy: The mainstay, killing or inhibiting cancer cells.

Radiation Therapy: High-energy X-rays to target and eradicate cancer cells.

Stem Cell Transplant: Involves high-dose chemotherapy followed by stem cell replacement.

Targeted Therapy: Specific medications tailored to combat certain types of leukemia.

Immunotherapy: Enhances the body’s immune system to combat cancer cells.

Complications:

1. Short-term:

Serious Infections: Resulting from compromised immune function.

Severe Bleeding: A consequence of low platelet levels.

Thickened Blood: Accumulation of leukemia cells in the bloodstream.

2. Long-term:

Leukemia Recurrence: A persistent concern.

Development of Other Cancers: A potential consequence of treatment.

Heart and Lung Problems: Arising from the impact of leukemia or its treatment.

Learning Issues and Growth Delays: Impacts on cognitive development and physical growth.

Fertility Problems and Bone Issues: Osteoporosis as a potential long-term complication.

Prevention:

Preventing childhood leukemia remains challenging, with a focus on caution regarding unnecessary exposure to radiation, especially in diagnostic procedures involving pregnant women and children.

Supporting a Child with Leukemia:

1. Ongoing Care:

Regular visits to oncologists and healthcare providers are crucial for monitoring and addressing emerging issues.

2. Balanced Lifestyle:

Managing eating difficulties and encouraging appropriate exercise play a vital role in supporting overall health.

3. Emotional Support:

Seeking counseling or participating in support groups helps both the child and their family navigate the emotional challenges associated with leukemia.

4. Follow-up Appointments:

Attending all scheduled appointments ensures continuous monitoring and timely intervention if complications arise.

When to Contact Healthcare Provider:

Prompt communication with healthcare providers is essential if the child experiences fever, worsening symptoms, new symptoms, or side effects from treatment.

Key Points Summary:

Leukemia necessitates a comprehensive approach, involving diagnosis, tailored treatment, and ongoing monitoring.

Varied symptoms demand timely medical attention for an optimal prognosis.

Treatment modalities, including chemotherapy and stem cell transplant, are tailored to the specific leukemia type.

Complications, both short-term and long-term, underscore the importance of ongoing follow-up care.

Prevention is limited, with a focus on minimizing unnecessary radiation exposure.

Comprehensive support, encompassing medical, emotional, and lifestyle aspects, is essential for the child’s well-being.

Next Steps:

1. Follow-up Care:

Continued regular check-ups and imaging tests remain integral to post-treatment monitoring.

2. Communication:

Maintaining open and transparent communication with healthcare providers ensures timely intervention if issues arise.

3. Research:

Inquiring about ongoing clinical trials or new treatments enables families to stay informed about emerging possibilities.

Conclusion:

Childhood leukemia mandates a collaborative effort from medical professionals, caregivers, and support networks to optimize outcomes and enhance the quality of life for affected children. As the landscape of pediatric oncology evolves, the commitment to advancing treatment options and minimizing the impact of complications remains paramount, offering hope for a brighter future for children navigating the complexities of leukemia.

Medical students encounter significant academic challenges during their studies, balancing coursework, clinical rotations, research, and personal commitments. Expert Academic Assignment Help offers tailored assistance to meet their needs, providing study materials, tutoring, assignment help, and exam preparation. Beyond academics, it fosters a supportive environment for mentorship and guidance. In essence, Expert Academic Assignment Help is a valuable resource for medical students, empowering them to excel academically and develop into competent healthcare professionals. Contact us at expertassignment46@gmail.com for professional assistance

[justanotherwrittingblog]

Im writing again

[gyurilla]

next mistake park sungho smau

pairing: sungho x afab!reader

synopsis: sungho a star volleyball player, who is close to being benched for bad grades. and then you! yn. the top student, who he’s resented since high school, is assigned to tutor him. he makes her life chaotic—she makes him fall in love.

genre; smau, uni au, half writ

contains; minji frm newjeans, kazuha frm le serrafim, ningning frm aespa, all the members of BOYNEXTDOOR, hanbin & gyuvin frm zerobaseone, sohee frm riize! (most of the boys frm bnd will be on the team, some are just there for being close to sungho)

taglist: (OPEN! dont be shy!!) @colorfuleclipse @s0shroe @oowir @suaveee12345 @miyawwn @ilysungho @pinkiwinkiminki @hyunjinslongasslegs @8makes1atom @kazukazukiiii @nujeskz @banez @cosmiicstarkss @aangelll0 @fwaagile @haruharua @leehanette @silv3rst0ne @coriihanniee @bishuambi @jvngw0nlvr @alwaysyeppi @lovenha7 @veerooniicaa @prodkwh @sirenla @starrihan @crazykimkeverose @t4esanlvrr @jsyasubak @w3willris3 @uncasings @tiramiffysu @hainim01 @defnotsanni @woonhakntaesansgf @ceilvia @kaixlix

april 27, 2025 -

profile’s 1 | profile’s 2 | profile’s 3

1. warned?? (235)

2. anyone but HER (420)

3. one sided beef

4. good day! (421)

5. i dont careee (563)

6. good grades? (217)

7. vb szn starts NOW! (804)

8. jaehyun (768)

9. i care

ONGOING

work of @gyurilla !

[b0n3s-is-gay]

Might be a bit of a stretch, but could u writ something for Darry x reader where they're new parents, reader just had their son, and they're introducing their new baby boy to yhe gang ❓️

Three's a Family, Five's a home, Seven's a Party

Synopsis: After 9 months, 9 grueling months of school and pregnancy, you finally get to bring home your sweet baby boy. You're tired and overall relieved to have him out of your body, but you're ready to introduce him to his family, blood related and friendship related.

Tags: Fluff, AFAB! Reader, Reader is technically engaged to Darry, set some time after the book, implied that Reader has graduated college and makes good money, a smidge of angst, talks about possibly getting reader pregnant again.

Authors Note: I took the time to write this piece of work, eat it up my faithful followers.

"Fuck Dar..." You groaned softly as you gently picked up your son, feeling sore from the previous day in labor. "My back's still screaming at me, though I do have to say it's nice to see my feet again..."

Darry snorted softly as he rounded the truck and helped get things out. He grabbed the baby bag and hoisted it up like it weighed nothing, which to you, weighed as much as the son. "Don't go getting used to that now, if things are in the cards then I want another." Darry teased as he kissed your temple and picked up the baby carrier from the back seat.

When he saw your soft, knowing glare, he laughed to himself. "I'm just joking Babe." Darry then tapped the car door with his hip once you held your son in your arms, closing the door. "Alright, let's get you inside. You're probably beat..."

"You are correct about that, I am beat..." A sigh escaped your mouth as you followed him into the Curtis House.. It was silent, meaning that everyone was out and you both had a moment to breathe. "This is going to be a shock to them, we didn't even tell them that I went into labor."

Darry simply shrugged as he put the baby in the carrier, leaving to go get the bassinet from his closet so your kid can sleep while you sleep. "In my defense, they never asked why you weren't around the house the past couple of days. They assumed you were just busy with last minute assignments or looking for work after graduation, the rest of the gang also didn't assume anything wrong when I was out of the house. That's probably a sign that I work too much, but I'll take what I can get."

A chuckle escaped your throat as you settled on the couch, watching Darry set up the bassinet as you held the little baby against your chest. "True true... Seeing as how you were by my side from the moment I went into labor until I was discharged, I'm assuming you either got a week off or you're using all your paid sick days on being here for us..." Darry looked at you and shrugged, a fond smile crossing his lips as the sight before him.

"I used most of my stock piled sick days, I had to put them to use sooner or later and what a better way to use them then to be there for my future spouse as they bring my child into the world." He hummed, stepping back when the bassinet was set up. It was the same one that he and his brothers had slept in when they were babies, it held an entire generation and was going to hold another. "Here, pass the little thing, he deserves some sleep too."

Darry watched as you sat up and gently passed the little bundle of joy to him, his son's blue-green eyes that mirrored his own staring back at him the innocence that lacked in this world. He shifted the bundle in his arms and just looked back down at the innocent bundle of joy. His moment, much to his disappointment, was cut short by the sounds of the gang outside.

"Damnit Pone, maybe don't try and bite the curb. You're so close to graduatin', we don't need your head getting knocked off." Sodapop said from outside, his voice and multiple footsteps getting closer. Darry sighed and stood up, gently shaking you and handing you the kid. He then picked you up like you both weighed nothing, which to him you didn't, and sat you both down on his lap.

The moment the door opened, Sodapop and Ponyboy stepped into the living room, they saw the scene unfolding before them. You, tired and partially asleep against Darry, Darry, who was holding onto you, and this little squirming bundle in your arms. The boys looked at each other for a minute, looking back towards the scene with mirrored expressions of shock.

"Hold the hell up, when did you give birth?" Ponyboy asked, approaching the small little family unit sitting in one arm chair. His green eyes drifted over the baby, now squirming and wide awake, reaching up to grab at anything available.

Darry shrugged as his eyes locked on his brother's. "A few days ago, she just got discharged." He answered as he reached out a finger and gently stroked the brown hair already growing from the infant's head.

"Okay, stupid question on my part." Pony replied as he looked at the little baby resting on your chest before asking another question. "Can I... Hold him?"

Darry looked up at Pony and then looked to you for permission, when he got the go ahead, he gently shifted you in his grasp and picked up the little tyke. "C'mere Pone, hold his head like this..." He instructed as he showed Ponyboy how to hold the newborn.

Ponyboy looked at the bundle in his arms, stars practically forming in his eyes. "Woah..." He whispered as he sat down on the couch and stared back at the baby looking up at him. Sodapop soon joined him, sitting down next to him and looking at the bundled up babe.

"He looks just like you Dar. That's gotta sting, she carried him for 9 months and he comes out lookin' like you..." Sodapop joked as he poked your son's cheek. Darry snorted softly as he watched his brother's adore his son just as much as you both did.

"She complained the first minute but she loves him, loves both of us." He joked as he rubbed your back, watching as you deflated and observed his brothers play with their nephew. "We decided on the name Victor, like Grandpa Victor from Mom's side."

"The one that actually took the time to check up on us after the funeral?" Ponyboy asked as he looked up from little baby Victor. Darry nodded as he rubbed your hip. "The very same." Darry confirmed as he leaned back with you.

Soda opened his mouth to speak or make another joke but was interrupted by Two Bit and Steve walking inside the Curtis Home. "That's fucking stupid and you know it!" Steve exclaimed as he pushed a noticeably tipsy Two Bit.

Acting on instinct, you slowly turned around, obviously tired, and glared at the loud boys. That was when the boys read the room, their eyes landing on the baby held in Ponyboy's arms. Two Bit sat down his bottle of beer and straightened himself out, already switching to his 'Home-Mode' that he used when interacting with his sister.

"Well damn, when did she pop?" Two Bit asked as he approached the younger two Curtis Brothers and the new addition to the Curtis Family. "What's the gender? I bet Steve 5 bucks that it was a girl."

Darry sighed and shook his head before going to answer only for you to pipe up. "I gave birth a few days ago Mathews. Also you owe Steve 5 dollars. It's a boy and we named him Victor." Your eyes were lidded but you still had that tired smile on your lips, the same smile that Victor got to see for the first time and the same smile that made Darry fall in love with you.

"Damnit..." Two Bit groaned as Steve smiled and punched him, not in a way that'd hurt him but in a way that was joking. Like how Soda would punch Darry after a joke or a bad take. "I'll pay you back. For now though, let me see my honorary nephew!"

Steve rolled his eyes and stood next to Two Bit, examining baby Victor. "Honorary Uncle Steve and Uncle Keith, doesn't sound as bad as I thought." Steve commented to Two Bit as he reached out and scratched the newborn's scalp.

"Uncle Keith? No, I'm gonna be Uncle Two, the FUN uncle thank you very much." Two Bit shot back as he sat down on the floor in front of Ponyboy, Sodapop, and little Victor. Sodapop cleared his throat and stared at him like he personally insulted him. "Right, I'll be the second fun Uncle. Pepsi over here is the first."

As you and Darry watched the boys talk and fawn over the little baby, you cuddled close to him. "Y'know, I like to think Johnny and Dally would've made great uncles for little Vic. I know Dally didn't like kids, but I think he'd make an exception."

Darry nodded his head as he watched, gently rubbing your side and massaging your hip. "Likewise. Dally may have been a hard ass, but he would've been great with a little bit of guidance from Pony and Johnny." He whispered against your skin, just watching as a smile graced his lips.

"Pony's gonna be the responsible uncle!" Two Bit declared loudly, startling Victor and making him cry. A sigh escaped your lips as you got up to soothe the baby only for Steve to gently take the bundle and start consoling him. Oddly enough, it worked.

Steve smiled and whispered soft words of assurance to him, he was surprisingly good with kids... Huh, maybe this little found family could be the village needed to raise this kid with you and Darry.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, I want to congratulate for gaining such big audience on this blog. Also wanted to say thank you for all your hard work. You are one of the blogs that made me come to this fandom in 2020-2021.And thanks for all emotions that you're precious writtings gave me.

As for headcanons, can you please write another "How it to be friends with... " but with Leona, Sebek, Jamil, Ortho and Deuce? The first one was cute and funny

Have a nice day and stay hydrated 💐💐

Thank you for your support!!

It’s been so long, I forgot I had written friend headcanons in the past 😅 (They’re here if you’re interested! Featuring Idia, Riddle, Ruggie, Floyd, and Kalim~)

Curiouser and Curiouser...

You do many of the typical things that friendly schoolmates do together: walking to class, collaborating on assignments, eating lunch in the cafeteria, studying, etc. You even get into trouble together, though Deuce attempts to be the "honors student" that keeps you two out of it. (He just ends up getting dragged into the situation with you anyway.)

He’s pretty low on pocket money, but if he notices that you don’t have much to eat yourself or you’ve forgotten or skipped over a meal, Deuce offers whatever he has on him. A protein bar, a juice box, whatever! You can always share, right?

The first to throw a punch in your honor! … Okay, maybe that’s not something to be so proud of, but he’ll still do it if someone’s really rude to you. Deuce will at least try to get them to apologize. If they put hands on you though, all bets are off.

Eager to help! Is your phone busted? Hand it to Deuce, he’ll try tinkering with it until it’s operational again. The snack you paid for isn’t falling out of the vending machine? He’ll kick the crap out of it until your chosen snack falls out (along with about 10 other items).

His mom knows all about you because Deuce is constantly telling her about his cool new buddy. Sometimes you’ll walk in on him on the phone and he’ll put his mom on speaker so you can say hi to her. She often thanks you for “looking out” for Deuce while she’s not there—he needs more people like you to support him!

Being friends with Leona grants you a number of "privileges" (which is what he calls them). These so-called "privileges" include: entry to Savanaclaw and/or the Botanical Gardens (without risking the threat of being wailed on to get out), slightly more patience when you call out to him in public, and the random chance for him to chuck his credit card at you and command you to run an errand for him. ("While you're at it, buy yourself something nice for the trouble," he adds.) How... kind (?) of him, right?

He's the kind of friend you have to practically harass to convince him to get out and do something with you. Leona would rather snooze or hang out indoors reading or playing chess or logic games. Sometimes you have no choice but to bend to his whims because otherwise you're not seeing him at all. It's his way or the highway!

If he's in the mood, he'll play a little rough. Leona's not exactly super affectionate (like, he's not going to hug you), but he'll occasionally ruffle your hair or get you in a headlook and noogie you. It's his way of greeting you or saying, "job well done".

A lot of your conversations with Leona are essentially extended exchanging of quips. He’s still every bit as sarcastic and snarky as he is with his enemies, perhaps even moreso with you. It’s not done out of animosity, but rather because Leona wants to keep you on your toes. After all, he let you into his pack—so you can keep up with him, can’t you?

In spite of how lackadaisical he may appear, Leona's the first person you know you can go to if you ever need help. A school assignment, physical training, life advice, whatever. He has this way of saying what you need to hear (even if it isn’t pleasant; he's a realist, not an optimist, and he's not going to sugarcoat it for you) and kicks your ass into high gear.

Definitely the “mom friend”, though out of habit and not because he wants to or actively tries to be. The kind of guy to fuss over whether you’re eating enough or sleeping at an appropriate time.

He often looks frazzled when you greet him in the halls or hang out after classes (which he so rarely does anyway because he’s usually for his hands full and with some Kalim-related task). Jamil vents to you later about what he has to put up with. You’ve never heard him use such colorful language and creative phrases outside of these vents. (He makes you swear to secrecy.)

On hangouts, Jamil comes overprepared. Even if it’s not raining, he brings an umbrella. Even if it’s not sunny, he brings sunscreen and bug spray. In fact, Jamil always shows up with this massive bag of what he calls “essentials”. First aid kit, water bottles, hand sanitizer, hand cream, portable battery, snacks, lip balm, sewing kit, travel toiletries, pens, spare eating utensils, a flashlight, a multitool, sunglasses, a notebook, a mirror, tissues—

His homemade lunches look so good; you tend to stare with quiet longing until Jamil sighs and asks if you would care for some. He acts like it’s a slight inconvenience to him (to salvage his pride and to come off as humble), but really he’s fishing for an excuse to share his food and get a compliment from you. In exchange for feeding you, you feed his ego.

Jamil insists he doesn’t need you to come to his basketball games, he can play just fine without you there. Well, that doesn’t stop you from showing up with a homemade poster to wave around and shouting his name. He acts embarrassed about it and scolds you afterwards, but he’s secretly pleased to have your support.

Ortho's the friend you feel the instinctive need to protect (on account of his small, boyish stature)--but don't be fooled! It's him who's jumping to shoot a laser beam at people who pick on you and you having to hold him back from firing.

He's cute and he knows it. Whenever he wants to get his way (like, say he wants to pick what you do today), he'll put his acting chops to use and pretend to get all sad or claim that you're bullying some innocent little kid to win the disagreement.

You play a lot of video games and board games together but you can never quite win most of the time. Ortho's advanced learning algorithms allow him to learn your playstyles and adapt on the fly, leading to him cinching victory after victory. He takes it easy on you once in a while though, just because it wouldn't be fun to go entirely unbeaten! More recently, you've been really into this racing game called Sugar Rush--and Ortho likes to play dirty and targets you with all the traps he can get his hands on.

You have movie nights too! Sometimes it's mainstream productions but sometimes Ortho shows you sneak peeks of the Film Research Club's latest projects (where he stars). He doesn't eat or drink, so you can monopolize all the snacks and chill as Ortho gets the film rolling... from himself! He has a built-in projector which makes it possible to watch movies on any wall.

Being besties with a supercomputer has its perks. Ortho can fact check you on the spot and provide any and all information you might be looking for in the blink of an eye.

Sebek is one of those friends who speaks callously even to his own friends. He does this with Silver, and he does this with you as well. Every nice thing he says is phrased like an insult (not necessarily aimed at you; it’s usually condescending others when comparing them to you), and it takes some time getting used to his… unique way of communicating.

Big golden retriever energy. He gets so excited when he sees you and practically charges over to give a greeting in the mornings. Same goes for him catching you in the halls--he'll shout from the other end and wave excitedly.

He's in the habit of making book recommendations to you, even if you're not a reader. Each book is selected with the utmost consideration for your interests and reading level; Sebek has oftentimes already gone to the trouble of reading these books and now is waiting on you to give them a shot so the two of you and talk over it and share your thoughts.

He strives for self-improvement and encourages you to do the very same. Sometimes he invites you to join him and Silver for a workout, but if that's too much for you then he can recommend some simple weight-lifting, stretches, or a brief jog.

If you're feeling down, he'll give you a thunderous pep talk that'll get you right back up on your feet! It's like being hit with a jolt of lightning--you're revitalized and ready to tackle the world again.

[v3nusxsky]

Ohh 12 and 26 with our queen Larissa 🥵

Behind closed doors 18+

*authors note~ so many wips haunting me and a new obsession with Agatha and rio plus school is murdering my brain. We interrupt Mars writting university assignments to bring the original queen that inspired me to start writing back to your screens. Hold tight for the Christmas event coming soon*

Trigger Warnings~ praise kink, choking (r), breeding kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, shifted cock, dom Larissa, sub r, begging, possessive Larissa, sorta marking (r),

Prompt~ see ask-^^*

Combined with this from the lovely @dingdongthetail

So reader is a omega who everyone assumes is an alpha because she is fiery and outspoken (thinking more masc presenting), Larissa is an alpha everyone assumes is a beta because she's kind and handles everything with her trademark grace, they have a secret relationship, they know about each other obvs, so when they get alone alpha Larissa comes out and subby omega reader just melts and does whatever her mate tells her. Breeding, mommy, pet names, praise, choking. Thoughts?

Perception is a funny thing. Subjective. And that was something you had learned very early on in life. Working in Nevermore as an empath is always interesting, you get your fair share of teen angst, puppy love, stress, frustration and your personal favourite curiosity. Feeling the students around you often gives you a great insight into how your lesson will go. Perhaps that’s why your classes are known to be the better behaved ones, you tailor your lessons to their moods. Despite your desire to be an open and honest person, all of Nevermore believe you to be a confident, outspoken at times and charming alpha. All expect one. Your masculine leaning appearance only adds fuel to their preconceived idea of you. People’s opinions of you never really bothered you, learning it’s best to allow them to think what they want. As long as you’re true to yourself then that’s all that matters to you. Your status is not something you deem to be important public knowledge.

As the principal of Nevermore, it was unsurprising that people naturally assumed Larissa Weems was nothing but a beta. Her calm fair nature combined with the uniqueness of her striking appearance only supported the idea. Truthfully, being a private woman, this never bothered Larissa Weems, she quite liked the idea of the public version of her and the real her, hidden behind closed doors. People often say it’s exhausting, pretending to be someone you are not. Larissa would have to disagree with that statement.

Dating Larissa Weems was nothing short of heavenly. Sure her being your boss could be seen as problematic but for both of you it was no issue. The connection you shared with the shifter was like no other you’d ever had the pleasure to experience. She was the first one to ask you rather than guess based on her perception. You were the first one who showed true and unconditional love. You knew first hand how others opinions could affect others so it was only natural you would want to ensure Larissa felt nothing but warmth and love.

The first time your suppressants ran out was only a month into your relationship. Exam season in Nevermore was always stressful but it didn’t help that your pharmacy had no refill for your prescription. It didn’t particularly bother you that people would find out the truth, you were more scared for her reaction. Of course she immediately noticed the change in your scent. Naturally she didn’t want to say anything and potentially cause upset but soon enough it became physically impossible to hide. Your heat hit hard and if you’d been able to concentrate on anything other than the slick between your plush thighs you would’ve noticed that poor Larissa was sent spiralling hard and fast into an unexpected rut.

Desire. Need. Lust. All you felt in the moment. It made thinking with a clear mind difficult for you both. However, just like you suspected, the newfound knowledge changed nothing. Well. That’s a lie. But you like to argue it changed for the better for you both. A safe haven where you could both be what you were made to be. Larissa loving taking the caring dominant role over you, protecting you from any possible threat. You adore being hers, pleasing her, cooking for her. Anything that woman needs your there and ready to do whatever it takes. Not to say she’s not the same for you, you love how her frame towers over your body as she holds you to her chest. The feeling of safety and comfort was all you ever desired. A true Alpha to your omega. True bond. Bound together by fate. Yet nothing changed around Nevermore. The days flowed as they usually did but behind closed doors, it was all different.

Wednesday had well and truly pushed every one of Larissa’s buttons. The principal being left pacing her office as she waits for you to join her for the evening. It amazes you how well Wednesday can rile your lover up. Although it shouldn’t be surprising because her not he is the same. Most assume you become overwhelmed with jealousy and that’s why you don’t like Mortica Addams. If only they knew what a riled up Larissa Weems meant behind closed doors. No. You hate the emotional scars morticia left in her wake. Long deep jagged cuts all over Larissa’s fragile heart.

“Rissa?” You muttered quietly, drawing the woman from her frustrated thoughts. When did you come in? Immediately, your scent washed over her tight frame, muscles began to loosen subconsciously. A direct response. You however could only whimper as her emotional state crashed into your small frame. “What can I do my love?” Within a few strides she was towering over you, a smirk plastered on her ruby lips as she growled, “I wanna make you feel so good you forget your own name. I need to fuck you darling.”

You couldn’t even draw a breath before she was slamming your body back against her heavy mahogany door. Helpless. “Mommy needs her good girl” she practically purred as she nipped and licked over the column of your throat, your pulse thumping under her warm muscle. Really it’s unfair, how can you do anything but surrender to her pure dominance. Tiny moans escaping you as your brain grappled to form a response. To consent to what would soothe you both. “Please” you gasped, hands pawing at her dress that was snug to her hips. How could she not give you everything when you flash those needy doe eyes her way and use such pretty manners?

Her toned thigh made contact with your pulsing clit with a practiced ease, her hands being the only thing keeping you upright as you worked yourself pathetically quickly to an orgasm. The scent of your alpha mixed with the pleasure she was happily providing you created the open road to bliss. Larissa prides herself on just how little she can do before you’re hurtling off the edge. How she could quite literally command you to fuck your pretty pussy for her, putting on a show as all she does is watch. The first orgasm never takes too long for her pull from you. You can’t help but whine when she moves her now slick coated thigh from your heat. “Hush my love, you know mommy will take care your needy cunt. I’d never leave my pretty girl all needy would I?”

Somewhere in the blissful haze the pair of you moved to your bedroom next door and the clothing was stripped from you both, her goddess like figure on full display for your eager eyes to devour. “Mommy” you whimpered, every letter dripped with need. “I haven’t ruined my pretty girls brain already have I? Mommy wants more sweet girl you understand that don’t you?” Her condescending tone added an edge you didn’t know you needed, instinctively your legs fell open, exposing your puffy red soaked slit. “Hmm pretty girl, that was too easy, perhaps you need to be reminded who’s in control here. Can’t have MY girl spreading her legs for anybody now can I?”

Larissa couldn’t help but drive straight in, to get a taste of you like a starving woman. You simply taste delicious. Like nothing she’d ever tasted before. Your arousal coating her tongue was one of her favourite things in the world. The rich taste, the way she could flick your bundle of nerves with the tip of her tongue and you’d respond with such a pretty mewl of pleasure, your core flooding with more for her to feast on. Your hand immediately found its home in her silver strands of hair, gripping and tugging on them as your hips bucked toward her sinful mouth. God the way her nose would bump into your clit as she plunged her tongue into your soaked little hole as her both of you moaning like wild animals. A perfectly timed dance, as old as fate itself.

Larissa prides herself on being an attentive alpha. You are on your third climax of the night before she even realises she’s now painfully hard. Her appendage standing tall and proud. Ready for action. The tip angry, red and leaking. The sight of you gasping for air as you come back down to earth, pupils blown wide with a messy pussy drive her wild. Yet she’s not done yet. You breasts need to be marked. Every inch. Hers. That’s what you are and she’ll mark you as many times as it takes for every one to know. Her slender fingers toying with your perky nipples as she remarks her claim on your neck. It’s enough stimulation alongside the physical sensation being bestowed on your breasts that sends you hurling over the edge again. Tears brimming in your eyes at the pure force of the orgasm rippling through your body. Chest heaving as the shifter leans back to take you in. “Pretty baby, such a messy girl for mommy. I know my girl needs more. Beg for it darling. Tell mommy what you want.” It takes a few attempts before you manage to breathlessly stumble out “I - I want y-you to come I-inside me this time. Please. I want to make you feel good”

Trying to sit up on shaky limbs is a trial and a half, but nothing would stop you from pleasing her. Your lover treats you so well, it’s only fair to repay her. “Please” you pleaded peering up at her through your eyelashes. A simple plea but simply too cute to resist. “Go ahead sweetheart, show mommy how much you want her cock in that sweet little pussy of yours.” Instinctively you bent to take the member between your plump lips, cheeks hollowing around her as you swirled your tongue around the leaking tip. A little pleased moan left you to vibrate along her shaft. “Oh good girl. That’s my girl. Such a good cock sucker for mommy”she praised. Yet it was short lived. Larissa would say she has good stamina, but you’d got her so desperate she could burst from just your mouth. And you both wanted her to be inside of your warmth when she burst. “Off” was all she offered before tugging you off by her grip in your hair, “my sweet girls such a good girl for my dick, but I want to be inside your sweet cunt when I burst. Fuck my babies into you until you’re begging mommy to stop. You want my knot right darling? My cock buried snuggly into your cervix as I fill you to the brim?”

If you thought she was all talk, that thought died as she sunk her cock in. Slowly. Inch by inch. She wanted you to feel every stretch, every vein, every twitch. “Look at how well you take me pretty girl” she moaned taking in the sight she was pleading you to look at. Her hand settled around your throat, lightly pressing you into the mattress and drawing to her full height. “Pretty thing with my hand like a necklace” her murmured thought was cut off by a loud pitch moan filling the room. Any final restraint broke like a damn. Primal needs filling the older woman as she drew out to just the tip before slamming back into you. Blissfully unaware of the world outside the door is what you were. Her hand wrapped round your throat, her constant pounding of your tight little hole, the sinful grunts coming from her as she kept her almost animalistic pace. Striving to hit the spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head as you coat her thick cock with your slick. Incoherent whimpers babbling out of your mouth among the slight choking sounds she was pulling from you only aid in green lighting Larissa to climax.

“Mommy” you whined, haphazardly reaching to paw at her bare chest, “so full. So good.” The praise giving her the drive to pound you just a little harder causing you both to tumble over the edge together. Long spurts of white hot sticky seed raced to your womb as you milked Larissa for all she had, inner walls gripping her knot so tight that she couldn’t help but spill more into your awaiting core. “Fuck darling” she panted as her arms gave out, her head finding its way to where her mark on you lay. It would be a while before Larissa could even considering pulling out of you. Even then she knew you’d beg to be like this for a little longer. To stay full and connected. And who would she be to deny her precious omega of anything? There would come a time she would slip from your now gaping hole and shush your cries of displeasure before setting to work on caring for you. Cleaning you up with a warm rag, bath filled with lavender salts running as she grabs you a drink before lifting you effortlessly in her arms to the tub. Soaking together in the post orgasmic bliss before drying off and drifting off to slumber wrapped in her strong arms.

Word count~ 2202

[illustrious-ia]

MY SUFFERING HAS COME TO AN END

~ finals. . . i'm going to dissipate. . .

[winterscaptain]

proofs of holy writ.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: the people have spoken and by a wide margin, we're stepping out of the mean it/berry hill era and into season 8, the replicator!! this is the companion to trifles light as air, the episode fic for brothers hotchner. feel free to give that one a glance if you need a refresher!

friendly fandom reminder that its not cringey to comment/reblog/tell the author and your friends you loved it!!

summary: “trifles light as air / are to the jealous confirmations strong / as proofs of holy writ.” - william shakespeare, othello act iii, scene iii. june 10th-june 19th, 2013

words: 11.6k warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of alcoholism, mark hamill being scary as fuck, let me know if i missed something!

masterlist | the ajf masterlist is under construction | ajf faq | join the taglist | what do you want to see next?

You’ve just picked a movie to not-watch on the hotel TV when Aaron gets a call. It’s Penelope. 

Your heart sinks. 

As Aaron picks up the phone, you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes against the wretched information that’s probably on its way to your proverbial desk. 

“Garcia, what -... The system is closed now, yes?... This isn’t your fault. Not at all…Have you called the rest of the team?... No?”

This is not good. 

“Okay I’ll take care of -... Yes, thank you.” 

He hangs up. 

“The Replicator is in New York. He hacked into Garcia’s system and has photos of us from this case.” 

A bolt of panic runs through you. “But we have Jack…” 

He shakes his head, already holding his phone to his ear again. “Hey, Beth. I’m so sorry it’s so late. I have a favor to ask.” 

You can’t help it. You push through the double doors to the living area of your suite. Jack is accounted for, sleeping soundly on the pullout couch. You kneel and let your shaking hand fall onto his head. 

Safe. 

+++

Jack (and his brand-new security detail) land at Beth’s apartment without much fuss. He’s still practically asleep, and it’s your only option right now. Aaron’s down with the car and the agents, doling out assignments and keeping the engine warm. 

“Thank you, Beth.” You turn the light off in her office, where Jack is set up. “I’m so sorry for the imposition.” 

“No! No, not at all,” she says. “I get it - bad guys ruining your vacation and whatever.” She pauses and takes a breath. “I’ve got him.” 

“His aunt will be here first thing in the morning to pick him up.” You text her a photo of Jessica, just in case. “Thank you again. Sorry about the random guys in your house.” You shoot a rueful smile at one of the US Marshals - Keith, you think, and he nods at you. 

“Not a problem,” Beth says. “You guys be safe out there, okay?” 

+++

The car ride to the federal building is quiet, save for the sound of Aaron’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Your mind is running in circles, screaming at you to call Beth one more time, to turn the car around and check. Jack is fine. He’s safe. You know that. But knowing and believing are two different things.

You exhale through your nose, forcing your grip to relax on your knee as Spencer and Dave slide into the backseat. It’s a bit of a blur - your mind is going a thousand different directions, not to mention fighting the urge to take everyone you’ve ever loved and throw them in a bunker. 

Dave hangs up the phone. “Strauss isn’t answering.” 

“Keep trying,” Aaron tells him. “Reid, any luck with Blake?” 

“Not yet.”

“There are more pictures of you taken outside of Beth's apartment,” Dave says, waving around a new missive from Penelope. “I get it if you want to stay with Jack until we find him.”

Aaron shakes his head. “I've got agents surrounding Beth's building and stationed in the apartment. She and Jack are safer without us since we're the targets.” 

You take the tablet from Dave. Yes, there are ones from Beth’s apartment, but those scare you less than one of you and Jack from the baseball game. He’s sitting on your shoulders, arms raised in triumph as you smile at someone out of frame. A bolt of adrenaline rushes through you. PTSD is a hell of a drug. Your therapist will need a raise this week. 

“Blake,” Reid says, and your heart lightens a little. At least she’s able to answer her phone. “We'll pick you up in a few minutes. The Replicator's back.” 

+++

The four of you eventually make it back to the hotel. It’s a miracle Aaron managed to weave in and out of the New York traffic like he did - any layperson would see a gridlock, but somehow he always finds a route. 

You settle in the lobby as JJ and Derek arrive. Dave heads upstairs to find Strauss. It feels a little chaotic, but everyone seems to be in one piece so far. Every little bit of your resiliency training is doing heavy lifting, keeping you upright and functional. 

Aaron, standing beside you and working with the other agents as they arrive, gets a phone call. 

“Yeah, Dave….We’ll be right up.” He hangs up and gestures to you and Spencer. 

The two of you follow him into the elevator without a word, finally reaching Erin’s room. 

The room is trashed, plastic bottles from the minibar scattered all over the floor, bed unmade, chairs overturned… 

“The window's open,” Dave says. ”She'd never sleep like that.” 

“Did something happen to make her drink again?” Aaron asks, his tone absent of judgement. He’s fallen completely into fact-finding mode, probably hoping to God this isn’t a repeat of last time. 

“No! She was working real hard at –” Something catches his eye on the table. He holds it up for you to see. It’s a red and gold coin with 12 embossed on one side. “This represents a year sober. She hasn't let go of it since she got it. She's even a sponsor now.” He pauses. “The Replicator has her. I'll check the roof.” 

Aaron nods. “I'll have Morgan meet you up there.” You and Spencer get out of the way, just in time to bump into Derek, JJ, and Blake in the hallway. 

“Strauss is missing.” Aaron looks to each one of you, confirming your assignments. “Blake, you and Reid talk to hotel security. We need access points and footage from every camera. Morgan, back up Dave on the roof. JJ, take the west staircase, I'll take the east.” He looks to you last. “Go with JJ.” 

You nod once. It’s almost strange that he doesn’t want you at his back, but you figure he can take care of himself. 

The west staircase is completely clear—no sign of anything.

“What do you think, Jayje?” 

She takes a breath. “The roof?” 

You get a call. “Dave? Do you need backup?”

“No. Hotch found Erin. I just called for an ambulance but…” 

“Dave. They’re on their way. Do we have anything for an APB?” 

“Not yet.” 

+++

You reach Aaron and Strauss at a dead sprint, but it’s too late. 

She’s gone. 

Your eyes sting with tears as you take in the scene before you. Aaron has Strauss wrapped tightly in his arms, holding her lifeless body close to him, almost cradling her. He looks at Dave, mournful and gutted. He turns, resting his head on Erin’s, bringing her closer. 

She didn’t die alone. That in itself is a small comfort. 

Your mind takes you, against your will, to a flash of Aaron holding Haley’s body. You shudder and shake it off. Now is not the time. 

Dave looks shellshocked, and you can’t blame him.

That’s three. 

Aaron, Spencer, Dave. 

Your heart breaks. You’re certain it’s audible.

The ambulance arrives, followed by the crime scene techs, but it feels like you’re rooted in place. Aaron doesn’t move, staring into space, his thumb worrying the knuckle on his middle finger. You’ve seen that look before—when he was barely standing after losing Haley.

The EMTs check him over but it’s clear he’s unharmed. You crouch beside him, placing a hand on his knee. 

“Are you okay?” 

It’s a stupid question. Of course, he’s not okay. His mind probably went to the same place yours did. 

You’re proud of him when he shakes his head. “No, but we have to keep moving.” He puts a hand over yours. It’s cold. He stands, dropping your hand. “I have a couple of calls to make. See what you can do.” 

You squeeze his arm once and let go as he rises, stepping away from you. 

JJ returns from her canvas and you join the huddle. She’s already talking, briefing Alex, Spencer and Derek. “We've got an APB, but the description of the Replicator is too general.”

“He wiped out all of the hotel security cameras,” Reid adds. “ATM and traffic cameras were compromised also. Which means he hacked into at least two dozen systems.” 

Dave stands away from you all, turning the coin in his hand, staring at it. 

“Well, he got into Garcia's place, which means he can get in anywhere.” Derek is thoughtful, still. “This guy's bragging.”

You nod once. “He also wants us to know he can take massive risks and still get away with it. It's probably why he took Strauss into a crowd of people.” 

“That and to humiliate her publicly,” JJ says. 

Your eyes stray to Dave, who still stands vigil by Erin’s sheet-covered body. 

Alex doesn’t look convinced. “But he called Hotch from her phone. It was important to him that we find her alive.” 

You have a weird gut feeling about the phone call coming to Aaron, almost like it’s another targeted mind game. It’s eerily similar. You shake it off. 

He can’t know about the Foyet case. It’s not public. And it’s classified.

Aaron returns. “The Director wants this contained and solved.” 

“Well, at least he's not taking us off the case,” Derek says. 

“He's given us 24 hours and then he will.” He effectively dismisses the five of you, turning to Dave. You stay close. 

“I’m taking her back to Bethesda,” Dave says. “She never liked this city, Aaron. I’m not about to leave her.” 

+++

With a plan in place, the rest of the team heads for the jet. You stand in the hangar for a moment, solidifying everything with Jess over the phone before you board and take off. 

“You’re sure you can come get him?” You ask. Even with a team of marshals at Beth’s apartment, something in you is activated by leaving Jack alone in New York. 

We’re the targets. He’s safer without us. 

It goes against every instinct you have, but you know it’s true. 

“Of course,” Jess replies. “I’d come up tonight if there were any trains running.” 

“There will be a car for you when you get here and the detail will take you home. I’ll send you pictures of the agents.”

“Is it that bad?”

You sigh. “It could be. We’re headed back on the jet now.” 

“Fly safe,” she says. You’re proud of her for trying to hide the waver in her voice. 

You catch Aaron’s eye as he joins Dave by Erin’s casket. His hand, in his pocket, peeks out and beckons you over. You stay a little ways away, but you can hear them. 

“Is Jack staying here?” Dave asks. 

“Just overnight. Jess is coming to get him in the morning and I have the marshals at Beth’s apartment.” He pauses, looking briefly back at you before turning back. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Dave looks at you, standing sentinel by the wing of the plane, then back at Aaron. “You’re lucky to have each other.”

“I know.” Aaron is almost inaudible from here. Your heart pulls. 

“Her children want to meet me at Bethesda.”

“How old are they now?” 

“Too young for this.” He wipes his eyes and fixes them on the casket. He’s not really looking at it, more through it. 

Aaron is the man he is at home, with you, standing beside one of his oldest friends. You know this is something he never wants anyone to understand - the pain of losing your other half, the piercing and unique mark it leaves on the soul. “Are you alright?”

Your gaze drops to the ground. It feels wrong to stay where you can hear, but something compels Aaron to draw you closer.

“She smells of booze, Aaron.” He lifts his head, meeting Aaron’s eyes. “You and I know it’s because that bastard took away her dignity, but her children might not believe that. It’s hard for them to trust anything to do with her drinking.” They both look at the casket, where Erin rests. “She struggled with it all her life. She was finally beating it.” 

Dave tosses Erin’s sobriety coin, letting it spin before catching it again. 

Aaron reaches out and lays his hand on Dave’s shoulder. It looks almost like a benediction, something more than comfort, more than simple connection. It’s all at once a prayer and an assertion that yes, indeed, you are here with him and for him. 

+++

“He knew about Foyet,” Aaron says, quiet under the roar of the plane. The pair of you sit on the couch, with you lounging against the wall, Aaron’s head in your lap. You’re half asleep, your fingers combing through his hair. 

You startle and he sits up. You bow toward him, your hand reaching out for his shoulder. “What?”

“He - he taunted me. He asked me if it reminded me of the call with - with Haley.” His eyes are downcast, his expression grim. “How I wasn’t fast enough. That I didn’t make it in time.”

You didn’t want to be right about the feeling you had earlier. It makes your stomach roll with nausea. That aside, you have a new insight for your profile. 

It takes a unique kind of psychopathy to go out of your way to seek out, target, and torture the subject of your fixation with their own PTSD triggers. To isolate Aaron’s fears and execute a reenactment of the worst day of his life takes planning, insight, and -

Shit. 

Knowledge. 

The archived Foyet case is heavily redacted—even for those who can find the sole remaining paper copy—but the original, unredacted report was released to a select few. To your knowledge, it was placed under a Top Secret/Polygraph access threshold before going to the oversight committee on the Hill. 

Very few people, indeed. A sinking, horrifying feeling drops into your gut. 

“Bastard.” It's an understatement. Your voice is low and a little broken. You wrap your arms around Aaron as he ducks into you, his head under your chin, taking refuge in your body. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Me too.”

+++

While some of you get some sleep on the plane, you’re all amped when you land at Quantico. 

“He mentioned Foyet to me on the phone,” Aaron says to the team, silent in the elevator. His hand is tight around yours and he keeps it as you all step off and into the BAU bullpen. 

JJ balks. “He knew about Foyet?” 

“Who's that?” Blake asks. 

“He's the man who killed my wife,” he replies frankly and without hesitation, squeezing your hand. Your heart pulls, even as you notice the strange sort of confusion on Alex’s face as she looks at you. 

You look back at her, clarifying, “That's a classified case that's not in any database.” You know that’s not the question she didn’t ask, but it’s the one you can answer right now.

“Then how would he know about it?” She asks.

“If he had access to the file,” Reid says. “We're talking about someone on the inside.”

That’s unfortunately the conclusion you came to as well. He could be anywhere. 

Aaron breaks away from you and heads to his office. “Conference room in five.”

Alex steps up next to you as you stop at your desk. “If you don’t mind me asking…” 

You look up at her. “Not at all.” You take a breath and pick up one of the photo frames on your desk, handing it to Alex. Haley smiles up at her. “Aaron’s wife Haley was murdered in 2008 by a serial killer the BAU had been hunting since the 90s. He played us, hard, and we got hurt.” You look up at Aaron’s office. “Hotch and I—we, um—” 

“No need to put it into words if you can’t find them.” Blake says, placing the frame back in its home next to your monitor. 

Spoken like a true linguist. 

You let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Thanks. Ready to go?” 

Blake nods and follows you to the conference room. You take a seat even though you feel restless. Aaron joins you only moments later. 

He stands behind you, placing his hands on the back of your chair, his fingers brushing your shoulders. “Garcia, is this everything?” 

You feel a little left out. Everyone’s standing.

“Yeah,” Penelope replies. “The Replicator stuff is here, and the team stuff is there and there.” She turns to Derek, who has crossed to the board, looking over the photos. “How's Rossi?” 

“Not good,” he answers, low and rough.   

“Is he with Strauss?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” She focuses back in, messing with her tablet and the monitor. “Uh - uh, I started with the question you asked - why attack Strauss, and on this day?”

You shrug. ��The most obvious answer is that it's an anniversary of some sort.” 

Penelope counters, “But there's nothing historically relevant.” You know she checked already and you’re so thankful she’s on your side. 

“It could be the smallest thing.” Spencer says, “Concentrate on New York. If the date's that important, the setting could be, too.”

JJ’s running through the givens in her head, thinking about what you already know and what you have left to consider. “It would be easier to attack Strauss at home. Is there a reason why he waited for her to be out?”

“Well,” Derek says, turning back toward the board, “considering she's hardly ever in the field, he sure got a lot of photos of Strauss.”

“It's like he's obsessed with her.” You pause, considering. “Maybe Strauss was always his first target. He attacked the top of the BAU chain first.”

Aaron’s directions come from over your head, his hands still firmly planted on the back of your chair. “Alright, Reid, you've matched up all the murder locations with the dates. Now we need to know how long it would take to drive to each of these locations, assuming a home base in the district.“ He pauses, casting his gaze on the rest of you. “He brought the fight here for a reason.”

”Well,” Derek says, “it's nearly impossible to figure out when he arrived and departed New York, but we should try.” 

Penelope gathers her tablet, “I'll collect all the public and private transport stuff.” 

Aaron stops her on her way out, meeting her eyes with a grave and gentle kind of severity. “Garcia, I need Kevin to go through every single pixel of these photographs. This unsub gets off on taunting us. He's given us answers here. We just haven't found them yet.”

Penelope has only seen that look once or twice. She nods and gets to work. Everyone else peels off, but stays close. 

You’re finally left alone with Aaron in the round table room, but he’s already got his phone to his ear, running along some train of thought he hasn’t bothered to articulate to you yet. He must have called Penelope only moments after she left, adding to her plate. “Garcia, before you and Lynch get started on the photos, pull the original cases for me before the system goes completely offline. I’d like to review them.” He hangs up. 

“Let me run to the basement really quick.” You rise from your chair, closing your tablet and tucking it under your arm. You talk fast, not looking up at Aaron as you consolidate your printed information to drop at your desk. “There might be hard copies down there, Jamie in archives works fast, and with the system down, we -” You turn to leave, but suddenly—fingers close firmly around your wrist. Not hard. Just certain. You whip around, startled to find a wild sort of look in Aaron’s eyes.

"‘No.’ His voice is quiet, but the weight behind it stops you cold.

Your pulse jumps. Aaron never stops you. Never holds you back. Not unless—"

"Aaron?” You take a step toward him, lacing your fingers with his, trying to ground him. “Talk to me.”

He swallows, his jaw flexing. “I need you to stay with me or Morgan until this man is in custody. Do you understand?”

Oh.

Oh. 

Your stomach drops. “What exactly did the Replicator say to you on the phone?” You don’t mean to make him relive it, but this guy is in Aaron’s head, big time. 

“He mentioned you by name, said it would be a ‘real shame’ if this job cost me someone else.” 

You squeeze his hand. 

He continues. “Erin said that the Replicator told her to tell me ‘I’ll race you home’ and she asked me if that meant anything to me.”

“Aaron…” 

“Please do not leave my sight.” He blinks rapidly a couple of times and you know he’s trying desperately to keep it together. “Please. It’s hard enough with Jack -“ He cuts himself off in an attempt to maintain what fortitude he has left. “If he’s an agent, and he’s finding ways to get to us, one by one, I can’t give him the opportunity to…” 

“I know.” You nod. It’s devastating to see him beg, to plead with you like this when he doesn’t have to. “I know.”

He pulls you close and fervently kisses your forehead before wrapping his arms around you. You let yourself fall into him, gripping the back of his shirt. It almost feels like he’s fighting to get you as close as possible. You can feel him looking behind you, out the window, likely studying every single person in or out of the bullpen. 

+++

Once Spencer has a preliminary timeline for the Replicator’s travel, Aaron calls them all back into the round table room. You remain standing this time, across from Aaron, over JJ’s shoulder. Before any of you can provide an update, Aaron’s phone rings. 

“Hotchner…” He pulls his phone from his ear, putting it on speaker and laying it on the table. “Dave, a figure eight?” 

“That's what it looks like. I just sent you all a picture.”

You squint at the picture, zooming in. 

“Maybe it's an infinity symbol,” JJ says. 

Alex sounds skeptical. “Well, if it's infinity, he could be boasting ‘I'll go on forever’?”

You purse your lips, thinking and turning the photo to the side. “Or if it's an eight, Strauss was his eighth victim.”

“There are eight of us,” JJ says. “Strauss could be considered the ninth, or alternatively, the odd man out.”

“If this is a taunt from him,” Aaron says, “it's too random.” 

He would have authority on that, being the last person the Replicator taunted with alarming specificity.  

Derek looks up, gesturing to the case files and his tablet. “Well, he's only sent one message and he seems to be real proud of it.”

“Zugzwang,” Spencer confirms. 

“Then what does this mean?” JJ asks, flatly. It’s almost rhetorical. She casts her voice to the phone on the table. “Rossi, the cut looks jagged. Any idea, what caused the serration?”

“Best guess is a piece of glass,” he replies.

Derek’s brow furrows. “Maybe he used empty bottles from the mini bar?”

“Those were all plastic. The M.E. is checking for splinters now.”

“Alright, let us know what you find out.” Aaron hangs up, looking at Penelope. “Anything from the photographs yet?”

“We blew up a few more and this one seems to stand out,” Derek says, pushing a photo of himself at some kind of formal event, behind a podium, into the middle of the table. 

"Since when do you wear tuxedos?" you ask, lifting the photo for a closer look.

“It was a British embassy event in London. Security clearance is high.”

“Security was insane there,” Penelope confirms. “That kind of accessibility, plus knowing about Foyet, the fact that he was able to get through all of my security clearances alone, you guys are right. You have to trust your gut. The Replicator has gotta be on the inside.”

+++

“If the Replicator's an insider, is there any way Strauss knew him?” you ask, stirring a little sugar into your coffee. 

“She said she didn't recognize him,” Aaron says. He crosses his arms, his back to the bullpen as you all sit at the table in the kitchen. A change of scenery was necessary after about three hours of deliberation. 

“To her defense,” you add, challenging him a little. It is your job, after all. “She was disoriented by the drug overdose.” 

He shakes his head. “No, she was adamant about it.” 

Alright. That holds water. 

JJ sits beside Derek with her own cup of coffee as he begins to speak. “Well, even if Strauss didn't know him, it doesn't mean he didn't know her.”

“Within the Bureau, she is the face of the BAU,” Alex says. 

JJ nods. “And clearly a target from the beginning.”

“But why?” Spencer asks. He continues. “More importantly, what was he replicating?”

“The drug overdose?” You tell him, like it’s obvious.

Spencer shakes his head, “I mean with the eight. It hasn't been part of any other case, and he's not one to make mistakes. He thought he was replicating a crime.”

Now, that gets Aaron thinking. You watch his eyes narrow as the wheels turn in his head. “The Director made us walk away from the case a few months ago. Strauss said that she wouldn't let it go.” He looks at you. “What if she hadn't?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You think she started her own investigation?”

“Well, if she thought he was an insider, she might have done something to trap him.”

“Why wouldn't she have told you about that back in New York?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe she didn’t have proof,” Aaron says, meeting each of the team’s eyes in turn.

There’s that lawyer again. 

“But her determination, plus the fact that he doesn't make mistakes makes me think that the eight was part of her plan to catch him.” 

You look around as Aaron speaks, finding thoughtful faces and more than a few nods. Aaron sets you on course, now that you’re all on the same page. 

“Do we have her laptop?”

“I got it. It’s in her office.” You jump up, but Derek joins you like a well-trained shadow. 

If the FBI doesn’t work out, he’d make a helluva bouncer. 

He follows you to the eighth floor, where you lead him into Strauss’s office. You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve entered this room without hesitation or anxiety. 

Her laptop sits on her desk, pristine. You grab it, tucking it under your arm, and face Derek. 

“Did Aaron tell-slash-order you to stay with me?” You ask. You don’t mind (mostly), but if they’re talking about you behind your back, no matter the reason, you’d like to be informed. 

“No,” Derek replies simply. “I just can’t imagine he’s gonna be comfortable with the team being targeted like this. Especially with that phone call and Strauss lying dead on a slab downstairs.” He pauses. “And I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye ever again if something happened to you where I could stop it.” 

+++

You half-jog behind Aaron, walking purposefully down the hall to Penelope’s dungeon. As promised, you're staying within his sight as much as is reasonable. 

“This is Strauss' laptop,” he informs both Penelope and Kevin as he opens the door. They both look up from their monitors. “I need to access who was on the distribution list for my case reports.” 

“You don't know who reads your reports?” Penelope asks, a frown on her face.

“I know she sent them to the head of the criminal division and the Director, but I don't know who else is on the list.” 

Kevin types for a moment and spins the laptop toward you and Aaron. “The last case she sent in was the case in Detroit.” 

“The Cutter,” you remind him needlessly. 

His brows pull together, low across his eyes. “She amended the report and said that the unsub cut a figure eight into his victims' wrists.”

Bingo. 

“But he didn't do that,” Penelope says. 

Aaron glances up at her. “No, he didn't. “

“So, she duped him,” you say, trying to keep your eagerness to a minimum. 

Penelope picks up right where you left off. “Which means that one of the people reading these reports has gotta be the Replicator.”

Aaron turns the laptop toward Kevin “It doesn't show who else saw this.” 

Kevin pulls the laptop closer and you circle him, only crowding him a little. “Two other people read the report,” he says, showing you. Your expression turns sour.

“Who?” Aaron asks, looking at you. 

You sigh. “You’re going to need a tie.” 

+++

Derek drives you home for a change of clothes and one of Aaron’s suits, your marshal detail following you. He stands by the front door, rigid and watchful. 

“Black, blue, or brown?” You call. It’s irrelevant, but focusing on something trivial suppresses the stress bubbling in the center of your consciousness. 

You hear Derek’s steps on the carpet and he appears in the doorway. “It’s the Hill, so I would say black blends in best.” 

“Blue, it is.” You select your favorite - the navy suit with pinstripes he wore to Berry Hill, a solid baby blue button down, adding navy socks for good measure. As for ties, you pick a blue-gray one that always reminds you a little of scales.

Scales for the snake pit. 

His suit laying over your arm, you shove his clothes to the side, stirring a breeze and getting a noseful of Aaron that makes you smile. You grab something for the office and tactical blacks, just in case you need to get on the road. On your way out, you snag a garment bag off the closet door, hanging the suit inside it. 

You smooth down the garment bag when you’re done, turning to find Derek watching you with a funny little look on his face. 

“What?” 

“You’ve settled in nicely.” 

You roll your eyes. “Derek, it’s been a year and a half.” 

“No, I know. You just seem…” He searches for the word. “At home, here.” 

“It is my home,” you tell him flatly, passing him in the hallway. 

Derek scoffs. “You know what I mean.” 

You can give him that one. “I do know what you mean.” You almost speak your thoughts aloud, but you refrain. “What I was thinking will make you gag, so I’ll spare you.”

He leans on the hallway arch. “No, c’mon, what is it?”

"It’s easy to feel at home because… well, he is my home."

Derek groans dramatically. “Yeah, okay, I regret asking.”

+++

It seems everything about this case is triggering in one way or another. As you step into Aaron’s office, your refreshed go bag in one hand and a garment bag hanging over your other arm, you’re starkly reminded of the late nights in this very room when Aaron would sit behind his desk for hours, poring over the Foyet case.

You only realize you’ve frozen when Aaron steps up behind you, taking your bag from your hand and placing it by the door. You startle and he immediately apologizes, placing a hand on your waist as he passes you. 

“You okay sleeping in Derek’s office tonight?”

You nod, hanging the garment bag on the little hook behind the door. “Yeah. You need to be rested for your visit to the capitol tomorrow. I’m not about to take your couch.”

“I hate the thought of you sleeping in an armchair,” he says, drawing you close and resting his hands on your lower back. 

You shake your head, bringing your hands to his chest. This green really is a gorgeous color on him - it’s a shame you couldn’t enjoy it. “Not the first time, certainly not the last time,” you remind him with a half-smile. 

He sighs. “I would send you home, but -”

…And there’s the Elle trauma. Put that on the list. 

“I know. He’s a wildcard. Even an insider can’t access Derek’s locked office.” And Derek always locks his office. “And going home is a risk, especially with Jess and Jack coming back in the morning.”

He only addresses the first part of your comment. You suspect he’s compartmentalizing, keeping even his thoughts far from Jack to avoid crumbling from the stress. “I had bomb squad and hazmat clear Morgan’s office when we got back.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Overkill, much?” 

He shakes his head. “Never.” 

+++

The following morning, you sit on your desk in a loose circle with Blake, JJ, Spencer, and Derek. Blake sits in her chair, JJ in hers. Spencer stands, catching thought-volleys from the middle, and Derek mirrors you, sitting on JJ’s desk. You’ve been going through everything together. 

This is your favorite way to profile, a classic, Socratic circle where you all bounce off of each other, fusing ideas and finding new insights one brain would have missed. 

Your phone buzzes. It’s Aaron. 

10:56am Fax machine. 

You stand and hop over to the ancient fax machine in the corner, standing by as the lists come through. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Derek asks. 

You hold up one of the pages as it comes through. “Looks like Hotch’s visit to the Hill was successful this morning. We have a list.” 

You gather the pages and make copies, handing them out. When you’re done, you pull your phone. 

11:14am Thank you <3 Printed and distro’d.

He replies almost immediately. 

11:14am <3s are unprofessional. 11:14am See me later.

You suppress a smile and return to your seat. 

“At least this narrows it down,” Alex says. “Finding someone on the inside should be easier. 

“Not necessarily,” Spencer replies. “If our unsub was trained by law enforcement, he'd know how to fit in perfectly.”

Your turn. “There's meaning and purpose to everything he does.”

“Why did he choose to replicate the Silencer case?” Derek asks, looking at you. 

JJ answers instead. “Well, that unsub went dormant for years 'cause he was locked up. Is that a clue about the Replicator?”

“Well, it speaks to his patience,” Derek says. What about his M.O.? He sewed mouths shut.”

“It symbolizes keeping secrets,” Alex muses. “There could be something in that.”

Spencer squints. “He's targeting everyone. So how does that particular case factor into all of us?”

“It's the first one Garcia and I worked on with Blake,” Derek offers. 

You make a skeptical kind of noise. “Yeah, but the rest of us worked on the Seattle case before that. The unsub who used his kid to bait the victims.”

Spencer looks back at Blake. “We need to see if he replicated that one.” 

“I’ll go see Garcia,” Derek says.

+++

Derek gets the reports from the replicated Seattle case and Blake gets up to copy them, feeling restless. 

You roll your phone over in your hand, thinking and staring into space. Movement catches your eye and you watch Spencer stop JJ from approaching Dave as he walks into the bullpen. He doesn’t look at any of you, walking up the stairs.

JJ watches him, turning back to you, looking helpless. All of you exchange looks as Rossi crosses the bridge and steps into his office without a word. 

The five of you eventually huddle around the Seattle case file, compliments of ViCAP and Penelope, bouncing ideas about what this one means to your meticulous unsub. 

Aaron appears through the glass doors, his stride measured but purposeful. Your heart leaps a little. It’s been years, of course, but you’ve never stopped feeling that flash of… something when he shows up unannounced.

His gaze sweeps across the bullpen, landing on each of you in turn. "Conference room. Now."

You all file in, standing in a near-identical circle to your huddle downstairs, except there's a table in the middle. 

Aaron doesn’t hesitate once you’re all in and settled, speaking quickly and crisply. “A dozen federal employees have read our case files over the last two years - that was the list I faxed over. They all went through the highest levels of security. Each of those names needs to be checked against Reid's list.”

“We should get them all in here and start the interrogations,” Alex says.

Aaron hesitates. “If he knows we're looking his way, he might retreat.” He looks at JJ. “We should also check the support staff of all those employees.”

“Each one has two assistants, so we're already up to 36 people,” she replies. 

Spencer, as always, has more criteria to nail it down. “We should start with agents who work a four-tens schedule, given the fact that most of the murders happened over a long weekend, which means if the unsub traveled by car, no one at work would've missed them.”

“Well, he probably wouldn't fly,” JJ notes. “It would leave a paper trail.”

You hand Aaron the copycat case file from Seattle. He looks at you, really, for the first time since returning. “What's this?”

“The Replicator's first case was the same as mine,” Blake says. “Remember the sadist who made Ridgeway look tame?”

He looks over the file. “In Seattle, so it wasn't the Silencer.” 

“Do you think it's a coincidence he started all of this when I joined the team?”

“I don't know,” he says. His focus shifts past you, down the bridge. “Dave's back?” You nod and he excuses himself. 

Derek follows him, and you can hear the brief. “He's only been back a few minutes; it looks like it's hitting him pretty hard.”

You all review the Seattle file and help Reid with his lists. You’re tuned into Aaron, though, who has apparently passed Dave in favor of his own office. The director has been calling him almost non-stop. Without Strauss, the management apparatus for the section has fallen apart. You can see how easily Aaron could assume that role. 

“Rossi, what the hell are you doing?”

Derek’s voice carries and you drop your file, stepping out onto the bridge warily as Aaron leaves his office. 

He sees something that slows his movement and treads carefully. You can’t see past Derek - you can’t even see Rossi. Aaron looks over his shoulder and waves you off. You stay back, but you don’t go far. The team continues on without you, conversation flowing freely. 

Aaron steps into Dave’s office. His shoulders are stiff and his posture is purposefully open. You see him lean forward, his arm extended. To your shock, he tucks a gun into the waistband at his lower back.

You catch only a little of what Derek says as he leaves the office: “… paramedics.” He runs down the stairs, skipping the last four. 

You step out fully, your hands on the railing. “Derek, what -?”

“He drugged Rossi.” 

He was here. 

The on-site emergency medical arrives within minutes, and Aaron stays with Dave until he’s rolled out on the gurney. The rest of you stand just inside the bullpen. Watching. Waiting. 

Aaron walks back through the glass doors, his expression unreadable. You know that face—it’s the one he wears when he’s barely holding something together. 

He exhales once, measured, before speaking. "They've given him a sedative and they’re gonna take him to the infirmary. He’ll be okay."

“How did it get into his system?” Alex asks.

“The report must have been dusted with whatever he used on Strauss,” Aaron answers.

“Luckily,” Spencer says, fidgeting only a little, “the transdermal absorption rate was lower than her ingestion of it, so it wasn't fatal for Rossi.”

“Then this was a warning,” JJ says. 

You shake your head. “If he wanted to kill Rossi, he had every chance to do it.”

“If this is his endgame,” Alex asks, “why is he wasting time with warnings?

Aaron answers. “He's toying with us and we're playing into him. He's turned Rossi against Morgan. Even if it was temporary, he wanted to show it could be done.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “But why?”

Derek returns from his call, cell phone in hand. “Strauss was dosed with a chemical cousin of Doctor Death. He altered it so her torture would be longer.”

“A biochemist, computer hacker, and federal agent?” JJ walks through it, looking about as concerned as you feel. “Who the hell is this guy?”

You all stare at each other for a few seconds. When nothing new comes to mind, Aaron dismisses you all. “Conference room in fifteen. I want to review the security footage.”

The rest of the team scatters, but you follow him to his office, taking your usual chair. “How was the Hill?”

“Terrible,” he replies. 

“Did you have to deal with Speese again?” 

He nods grimly. “He’s the chair of the Intelligence Committee, unfortunately.”

“He’s also,” you pause for comedic effect, “an asshole.” 

Your comment has its intended effect. Aaron offers you the ghost of a smile. “He is. He also said hello to you, by the way.” 

“Well, I do not say hello back.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t.” He looks back down, adding his incident report notes for the Dave situation to his ever-growing file. “So,” he starts, getting back to business. “What do you think?” 

You mirror him, fixing your posture and dropping back into Work Mode. “He’s obviously meticulous, well-organized, has space for the amount of biochemistry and technology that he uses, he knows Strauss, and he’s on one of our lists. We just have to narrow it down.” 

“Do you think this is about Alex as well?”

“I think she’s involved in his fixation, for sure. Between her and Strauss, there has to be a link there.” You pause. “Is Dave really going to be okay?” 

Aaron sighs. “I think so. Obviously the loss will be hard on him, but he can take the leave he needs and we’ll be there for him.”

“For better or worse, if anyone knows what he’s going through, it’s us.” 

“Right.” Aaron looks up from his paperwork, meeting your eyes. You have no doubt he’s thinking the same thing as you. 

I wish we didn’t understand. 

He stands, breaking the spell and offering you a hand as he rounds his desk. “Ready?” 

You join him. “Yessir.”

He kisses the back of your hand and then lets it go. 

+++

Penelope stands in front of the large monitor and you watch as security footage plays on screen. “Only half the cameras are working because the system is still rebooting itself, so the security guards have to go old school. That means everyone has to sign in. You can't take your ID and run it through - well, you know what old school means. So, if you have a badge, you don't get harassed. The man who signed in to see Rossi went up to the sixth floor, held the door open for Kevin and Anderson…”

Kevin looks dumbfounded. “I can't believe he was right there.”

“Walked through our BAU into Rossi's office,” Penelope continues, “signed in as Adam Worth.”

Spencer perks up. “Adam Worth?” 

“Isn't that the same alias he used when Maeve went missing?” JJ asks. 

Spencer nods. “Yeah, which means it's not just a taunt. It speaks directly to his psychology. Adam Worth was a famous criminal from the late 1800s, commonly referred to as the Napoleon of Crime. This unsub obviously sees himself in the same light.”

“So,” Derek says, his brows pulled together, “this guy is a malignant narcissist who wants to be known as the worst enemy we've ever had.”

You look at Aaron. That’s a high bar. 

His eyebrow twitches, his arms crossed. Tell me about it.

“And look,” Blake says, gesturing to the monitor, “he's careful to hide his face from the cameras.” 

“Because he knows exactly where they are,” Aaron agrees, grim and low. 

+++

You look over Alex’s shoulder as she creates a list of all of the Replicator’s taunts so far. 

Strauss - New York

Reid - Zugzwang

JJ - Flowers

Garcia - Computer 

Morgan - DNA

Rossi - Poison

Hotch - Foyet Phone Call

For you, she has the photo at the crime scene listed. 

When it’s all laid out like this, it looks like you and JJ got off light. In hindsight, the photo did rattle you quite a bit, but you’ve figured out that the thing he was trying to target was exactly what Philadelphia PD’s very own Rizzo played into - your reputation. Strauss covered a lot of blowback when you and Aaron disclosed. She kept your team together because you assured her you could remain professional and not let it affect your work. The Replicator, with the photo of you and Aaron, attacked that very premise. 

Alex sighs, looking over her list. “The Replicator has directly taunted everyone on this team except for me.” 

“You may be part of his endgame,” you tell her, taking a seat beside Spencer. 

“Then so was Strauss,” she says. 

“He chose to use drugs as his final replication,” JJ notes. “That's no accident.”

“Is that a connection to you?” There’s genuine curiosity in Aaron’s inquiry. This is something, of course, that the two of you discussed in his office. You’re curious too - mostly wondering if you were right. 

“Strauss and I had issues during the Amerithrax case. It started in New York with poison.” 

“And it was delivered by envelopes,” Spencer adds. 

Derek shifts in his seat. “Why would anyone on the inside hold resentment over that case?”

“Because that person suffered a professional setback just like Blake,” Aaron says. 

You add to his thought, “- but was patient and psychotic enough to get revenge.” 

Penelope rushes in, two files in her hands, and starts talking immediately. “I am all over the DOJ names including support staff. I have Kevin pulling files and photos. System is down, so it's hard to check entire career paths, but there were two agents in New York in 2001. Scratch that- Lehman died in October - that leaves Curtis.” Penelope plonks a file down in front of Alex.

Alex flips through the file. Her face goes still, and for a moment, she doesn't say anything.

"Wait a second..." Her fingers tighten on the page. "John Curtis?"

“You know him?” Penelope asks. 

“I haven't seen him in a long time. He was a nice guy. We were first office agents together, but I thought he left the Bureau after the Amerithrax case.”

Aaron jumps on it. “Could it be him? Does he fit the profile?”

“He was quiet and a loner, but brilliant. He specialized in a lot of fields, but his passion…” She pauses, “was biochemistry.”

+++

You’re thankful you thought to pack your tac blacks. You change in Aaron’s office, the shades drawn. He answers an email, standing over his desk. 

“So, we’re taking the choppers?” You zip your fleece, shoving your credentials in your pocket. 

He nods. “I’ll fly one of them with a co-pilot and we’ll have someone outside the unit fly the other.” 

“Where am I going to be?” You ask. It’s not a leading question - you’re genuinely curious. 

“You’ll be with me,” he answers quickly. He crosses to you, getting the velcro under one arm while you handle the other side. There’s something hidden behind his answer, but now is not the time nor the place. 

You snatch your phone off the coffee table and turn back toward him. “Let’s go.”

+++

The six of you walk with extreme purpose down the hallway, taking the stairs to the roof. 

Penelope briefs you as you go through your comms. “He inherited a family compound in rural Virginia. Coordinates on your phone.” 

“What else do you have on Curtis?” Alex asks, turning her head toward her mic.

“Just like you thought. John Curtis was demoted in the FBI after the Amerithrax case. He was slated to take over the coveted New York field office, but then was shipped to the not coveted Kansas City one. He worked there for many years quietly before he was able to weasel his way back into the nation's capital. On paper he is a rock star. He immediately transferred to the Department of Justice, the intelligence oversight section. He's a genius on multiple levels.”

You spare a thought for James Comey, who reinstated the physical fitness testing. He’s probably the only reason you’re not in a puddle on the landing by the tenth floor. 

“What's his background?” Aaron, of course, the king of cardio and runner extraordinaire, is hardly out of breath. 

“Only child, parents died when he was eighteen. Never married. Total loner, just like Blake said.”

“Then all he's ever had to care about is his work,” Aaron says. 

Derek sounds resigned as you reach the roof. “And when he lost that, he snapped.”

+++

"Hey, Hotch,” Derek pulls him aside, away from the noise of the rotors. His voice is low. “Are you sure about this?"

Aaron tightens his jaw, checking his watch like the conversation isn’t happening. “It’s what the situation demands.”

Derek doesn’t buy it. He leans in. “That’s not an answer, man.” He pauses, mindful of the time. “I know this guy got in your head - he’s got all of us on edge - but we have to make the right choice, here. I know you’re flying, but…”

Aaron’s mouth tightens, pulling into a thin line. “Morgan.” He takes a breath and Derek is horrified to hear a shake in it. “I am making the only choice I can live with, and I need you to get on board. I know you would make a different choice  -”

Derek places a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, cutting him off. “I get it. It doesn’t matter what I’d do. I’ll see you both when we get there.”

Aaron leaves Derek and takes his seat in the cockpit, adjusting the controls and finishing up pre-flight checks. You put on your headphones, strapping yourself into the six-point harness. 

“You good?” Alex asks. You can hear her clearly in your headset, but you turn the volume up a little. 

“All good. Spence?”

Spencer doesn’t reply, but offers you a thumbs up as he tightens his six-point. 

You tap on the back of Aaron’s seat, making sure your mic is on. “Aaron, we’re all good back here when you’re ready.” 

“10-4. Thank you,” comes the crisp reply. 

You’re in the air moments later, rising from the helicopter pad on the roof in tandem with the other half of the team. You knew Aaron can fly almost anything, but it really is something else entirely to see him take the control column, flipping switches and turning knobs as you rise higher and higher, tipping forward to start your journey. 

Alex eyes you, watching you watch Aaron out of the corner of her eye. You shrug. 

Sue me. 

+++

As you get further and further away from Quantico, the lights on the ground get sparser. Aaron patches Penelope into the onboard channels. 

“HRT will divide us up when we land,” Aaron says, checking his instruments and fixing his gaze to the vast darkness ahead of you as the helicopters split. 

He patches Penelope into the channels, and after you all give a 10-2, signal good, she starts with what she’s found on John Curtis. 

“As you can see from the geo ref'd he's got plenty of privacy. Five and a half acres, three structures, house included.” 

Almost as soon as she finishes her thought, the screens turn to snow, all of the electronic instruments suddenly useless.

“Garcia,” Aaron says. There’s urgency, yes, but he’s not panicking. 

“I see it, too, sir. It must be some sort of system override.”

The helicopter pitches down and you reach out, holding onto the handle on the back of Aaron’s seat. Your stomach drops and you focus solely on keeping your mouth shut. The last thing you want is for Aaron to focus on you, even a little, when he’s handling… whatever this is. 

“What's happening?” Penelope asks. 

“Autopilot's seized,” the co-pilot says. Aaron attempts to override the seizure, pulling on the yoke as it moves, seemingly with a mind of its own. 

“Altitude. Altitude,” the Black Hawk’s warning system placidly tells you as you drop more than 100 feet. 

Aaron flips a final switch, and the helo stops descending, leveling out. “I got it back.”

“Are you okay?” Penelope asks. 

“We're stabilizing,” he assures her. 

You’re able to stay on course without any further incident for another few minutes. Aaron reaches back subtly with one hand and you briefly squeeze it before it disappears to the front once more. 

The controls shudder again and you take another breath. 

Maybe helicopters were not the move…

You flash to a conversation you and Aaron had, months ago, when he had to go re-up his flight hours to renew his license. 

“That’s the thing about helicopters and motorcycles, you only get so many rides. If you fly or drive them long enough…”

The implication spoke for itself. 

The alarms sound again, the warning system informing you that you’re losing altitude. 

The alarms blare, the cockpit flashing red. The helicopter dips, shuddering violently beneath you.

Aaron curses under his breath, both hands gripping the controls.

The co-pilot turns, his face grim. His eyes lock onto each of you—just for a second, just long enough to make it real.

“Brace for impact.”

You brace against the front seat, reaching a hand around to make contact with Aaron. Your hand lands on his ribs, over his vest, as he reaches for his own handles. His hand covers yours for a blink before returning to its proper place. 

Checking under your arm, you see that Alex and Spencer are properly braced as well, and you can hear their breathing in the headphones. 

That’s good. At least we’re all breathing. 

For now. 

You can’t see the ground, so it’s a shock when the helicopter touches down, hard. With your brace, there’s only the smallest downward impact on your body, but your back and legs receive an unpleasant jolt regardless. You take a deep breath, sitting up and feeling dizzy, disoriented. You don’t remember hitting your head…

You’re out before you can process your next thought, dropping back against your seat. 

+++

You come to as your door is wrenched open by JJ and Derek. 

“Are you guys alright?” Derek asks, his voice only a little touched by fear. 

You’re relieved when Aaron answers him. “Yeah.” Unfortunately, it sounds pained. 

JJ unclips your six-point with the emergency release on the seat, catching you a little as you attempt to step out. One of the SWAT agents does the same for Spencer. 

Derek’s flashlight stays low as JJ asks, “Where's Blake?” 

“What the hell is this?” Derek says, picking up a canister from the floor by your feet. “What is this?” 

You straighten and take it from him. “This looks like a quick-release gas canister to me.” 

Derek looks grim, taking it back from you as Aaron roughly clambers out of the pilot seat. You lurch forward, catching his right shoulder as he loses his balance. He holds fast to your arm and you’re thrilled he’s not treating you politely, trusting your strength as you bear most of his weight. 

“You okay?” He asks, straightening and checking you over. His hand ghosts over the side of your head, then down to your shoulder, taking stock. 

With a nod, you assure him you are. He takes you under his arm and the five of you walk away from the landing site, headed toward the SUV driven in from the Richmond office.

“If he'd wanted to kill all of us,” JJ points out, “he could have.”

“He's playing God, just like he's done all year.” Spencer almost sounds offended. “He hard-landed us, knocked us out with whatever was in that canister so he could take Blake.” 

Aaron squeezes you around the shoulders before letting you go, walking ahead to get back in the driver's seat of the SUV. If he were a weaker man, you’d be a little worried, but his threshold for mental and physical fortitude goes without saying, at this point. “He had plenty of chances to take her before tonight,” he says. “He wants it to be a spectacle.”

+++

You can see SWAT’s lights down the road as you pull up. Derek takes your hand to help you out of the car and you take it, patting his shoulder as soon as your feet touch the ground. 

“You okay?” He asks.

You puff a breath out through your mouth, shaking your head before you answer. It’s been a long day.

There’s no need. “Understood,” Derek says. 

The two of you join the rest of the team at the SWAT staging area. 

“Morgan,” Aaron says. “I want you to go through the breach plans. Look for tactical holes and opportunities for the Replicator to lay traps.” 

Derek nods, splitting off. 

“The rest of us will prepare for breach with SWAT.” 

+++

You take Aaron’s six with Spencer as you cross the vast yard and approach the cellar doors. Spencer looks at you and you nod once. 

Ready.

Aaron throws open the doors, allowing you and Spencer to cover for any threat on the stairs, before he resets and leads the way. You have a flashlight gripped tightly, crossed under your gun hand. 

The basement appears deserted, but difficult to clear on account of all the shelves. You find his photo processing space and clear it, doing your best to avoid the faces of your partner and almost-son in many of them. You startle a little when you see one from the cemetery, with you sitting on Haley’s bench and talking with your hands, your flowers resting on her gravestone. This guy is taking stalking to another level, apparently. 

Derek and JJ turn the corner and the three of you fall in line with them, finding Alex chained to a chair at the end of the hall, a gag in her mouth. 

JJ reaches her, removing the gag from her mouth. “Which way did he go?”

“I don't know,” Alex sounds exhausted.  

Aaron evaluates Alex, the locks, the chains, everything with a discerning eye. “Morgan, you and JJ find him. We've got this.”

You holster your weapon and kneel opposite Spencer, who counts the keys. 

“He said he used eight locks because there are now eight of us.”

“That's all he said?” Aaron asks. 

“About that, yes.”

“There's only six keys,” Spencer says, falling into stream of consciousness. “That means two keys will be used twice. Each key is a letter, likely corresponding to a number on the locks. Seven-seventh letter of the alphabet's G…” 

You look at him. “What are the other letters?”

“Um, Z, U, W-” He stops, looking at you and Aaron in turn. “Zugzwang. It's too easy.”

Spencer hands you and Aaron half the keys and you get to work, separating them and trying the locks. They work as expected. The two of you work side-by-side in silence, cooperatively shifting and passing keys to their respective locks. It would almost be fun, save for the imminent peril. 

Morgan and JJ return, jogging to you and stopping short. “He's got the place lined with C-4,” Derek says. “We've only got three minutes.”

You sit back on your heels, echoing Spencers thought from before. “This seems too easy.”

“Zugzwang also means a dilemma in chess where the best move is not to move at all…” Spencer muses. As Aaron finishes the final lock, the chains falling away, Spencer shouts, “Wait, don't get up!” He pauses as she stands, explaining, “It's a pressure sensor.”

Shit. 

You follow the pressure sensor wires to…

The door.

The moment you see it, it starts to slide closed, solid steel scraping the wall. 

Derek lunges forward, slamming into it with his shoulder. "No, no, no—!"

It’s too late.

You whip your head to Aaron, who stares impassively at the blocked exit. His eyes flicker to you and you swallow heavily, seeing something that looks like hardened acceptance in his eyes. 

We got this. Don’t get complacent. 

The six of you look for alternatives, following cables and wires. All of them lead to the door. You’re on the floor, examining the structural integrity of the setup, when Aaron drops beside you. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You look at him, still holding the wires. “Yeah?”

He pauses, his eyes flick to your mouth, then your left hand, then back to your eyes. “I love you, you know that.”

“I do.” Your word choice isn’t lost on you. You place a hand on the floor between you and he covers it with his own. 

“I’m s-”

“Don’t apologize to me.” You make an attempt to smile. “You can tell me when we get outta here.” 

His jaw tightens and he nods. 

Derek watches the two of you when he exhausts his examination of the door. All that trouble to keep you safe, now you're all about to blow up in this room together. He sees the impossibly soft, affectionate, and determined look on your face as you say something to Hotch that has him dropping his head, picking your hand up to kiss the back of your fingers and holding them to his forehead with a kind of ferocity reserved for 18th century knights brought to their knees by the sight of an ankle. 

The door opens, startling all of you. Dave is on the other side, holding a radio transmitter. 

You and Aaron jolt to your feet, looking at the rest of the team. 

“You know what they say about gift horses,” you prompt. 

Derek laughs, a little hysterical with relief, and sprints out of the room, clearing your path. Dave joins him. 

Aaron grabs your hand and practically drags you out as your brain restarts and your feet start moving. The Virginia midsummer night hits you as you leave through the front door. 

“Everybody get back!” Aaron shouts, using his free hand to wave the staged agents away from the house. “There's C-4 in the basement. Everybody back!”

Spencer is just past the fence line when he stops. “Wait, where's Rossi?”

Derek turns, mentally counting all of you. He only gets to six. “He was right behind me.” 

Aaron takes a couple steps toward the house. “Dave!” 

“He just let us out. Why would he go back in?” Derek asks. 

Seconds later, though you’re not sure if you had seconds to spare, Dave appears, jogging toward you from the side of the house. Aaron corrals you all behind one of the cars. 

When the house explodes, his hand is warm between your shoulder blades. 

+++

“I’m glad we didn’t blow up,” you say in the blue darkness, sitting on the couch. He cradles you in his arms, lounging against the arm of the sofa, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other hanging carelessly off the couch. You lay across his chest, your ear to his heart, your hand playing with his hair. 

Aaron turned the TV off a while ago, Jack long asleep in his room, but it was nice to sit in silence, the tick of the clock the only other sound in the room beyond your breathing. It’s been a couple of days since the explosion. Erin’s service is on Sunday.

He doesn’t reply, but kisses the top of your head. 

“What were you going to apologize for, in there?” You ask. 

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “It seems silly now.” 

“That’s why I didn’t let you do it, you know.” You lean into him, tucking your face into the slope of his neck and shoulder. “I didn’t want you to say anything you’d regret in the unlikely event that we wiggled our way out of there.” 

Now, he really laughs, low and soft in the dark. “Very thoughtful of you, thank you.” He’s quiet for another minute. “It’s not something that I’d regret. It just isn’t relevant if we aren’t facing our imminent demise.” You laugh quietly, because it’s the only thing you can do. If you thought about it too hard, it would be scary. Now it’s just funny. 

"I was just thinking about how sorry I was that—” He stops. Shakes his head. “That we - I wasted so much time.” 

He pauses again.

"Time apart. Time spent dancing around what we knew. Time I spent convincing myself I couldn’t have this.” His hand skims your arm, back and forth. “I was a coward.”

“It’s not,” you whisper. “And you’re not a coward.” 

“I was about us,” he replies simply. 

You sigh. “Neither one of us were particularly brave, if I recall, but we made it.” 

“No,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “You made it.” 

A thought comes to you. “If I didn’t kiss you, were you just going to let me yell at you until I got it out of my system?”

“That was the plan, yeah,” he’s so matter-of-fact, it makes you giggle. He joins you, holding you closer.  

“God, you’re such a masochist.” 

You feel him shrug under you. “I had been so in love with you for so long. I wanted anything you would give me, even your anger.” He shakes his head. “The masochism started long before then, trust me.” 

You’re speechless for a moment. You sit up just enough to meet his eyes, bracing your weight on his chest. “Aaron Hotchner, that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

He draws you toward him by the chin, stopping you before his lips meet yours. You watch as his eyes track down to your mouth. The heaviness and devotion in his gaze almost makes you feel self-conscious. It gets worse when he tightens his jaw for a moment before his tongue sneaks out to wet his lower lip. 

You nearly lose your breath, his lips slightly parted as his eyes leisurely wander back up to yours. He’s said nothing, has hardly moved, but you’re held by his eyes like a physical vice, unable and unwilling to move. 

A spark of mischief lights up his eyes as he asks, “You gonna kiss me?” 

“I was waiting for you,” you tell him, dazed. 

He moves in, his lips just barely grazing yours, his breath warm against your skin as his nose traces along yours. “Please don’t ever wait for me again.”

+++

“It had to be a perfect round. And sure enough, coming right back at me was the target. And it was blasted right through the chest. The goggles come off... And it's Strauss.” Derek laughs. “I mean, I was like, what? I would have never believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. That woman... She was one hell of a shot.”

You’ve gathered at Dave’s after the service. It seemed like the only thing that felt right, to truly honor her as a team. 

Penelope’s next. “Um...do you guys remember that one time that she called me, but I thought that it was somebody else?” She throws her thumb toward Derek. 

“Oh, no,” he says. 

JJ tips her wine glass toward Penelope. “That was funny.”

“Oh, maybe to you,” Penelope says dubiously. “I was mortified!” 

“What did you say?” Alex asks.

“I said, ‘Talk dirty to me.’” 

It’s never not funny. You bark a laugh and smother it in Aaron’s sleeve, his hand on your thigh under the table. Alex leans forward. “No!”

“Yes, she did,” Derek says. “That's my girl.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Hey, that was my line,” Dave interjects with a smile. You’re glad he’s able to celebrate her, at least, for one evening.

Derek claps him on the shoulder as another round of laughter echoes around the table. 

“I remember when I walked into her office the day after Aaron and I had a conversation at home about going above board with-” You gesture to the space between you and Aaron, “- this.”  

“I went into her office and before I could say anything, she says ‘You’re either here to hand me your badge or to ask for two copies of a conflict of interest disclosure form.’” You pause as a ripple of laughter runs around the table. “I didn’t even know what to say. I think I short-circuited for a second and said ‘The second one,’ and she said nothing, pulled out the forms from her top drawer like she knew I was coming.” You pause for dramatic effect. “The only empty field was the date.”

The table laughs.

“In fairness, you were the least subtle people on the planet,” JJ says. 

You roll your eyes. “What I’m getting at is that Strauss was far more… liberal than any of us gave her credit for.” You glance at Dave, whose smirk is just starting when you cut him off. “Ew. No.” 

Another laugh. After a moment, the table grows quiet again, pensive. More stories bounce around for some time, your dinners all finished, your wine glasses refilled, and Dave taps his spoon against his glass. 

“Last year, right here, we had a… very different kind of celebration. Of life.” He pauses, looking at JJ. “Of love.” He looks at you and Aaron, where you lean against his shoulder. “And good people. This year it’s the, um, other side of that. Because, well, that’s what families do.” He pauses, looking at Spencer. “It’s been a hard year.” Spencer ducks his head. “But tonight, we celebrate a life well lived, well loved.” He raises his glass and the rest of you join him. “To a good woman. An even better mother. Our friend."

Dave takes a steadying breath, his fingers tightening around the stem of his glass.

“Who I will miss very much.”

+++

tagging: @chronicallybubbly @derekluvbot @jhiddles03 @soupyamanda @percysley @viennasolace @youngcowisland @beyscape @reidfile @ssaic-jareau @sochalant @acidicbloody @duchesschameleon