#everyone goes through the trauma wheel a couple of times

[pack-coven-thing]

Putting Dante through the trauma wheel again: fun fact, in me and @romeave-wives-club's rewrite

Dante becomes a shadow knight in the 'When Angels Fall' arcs

That's all <3

[sister-lucifer]

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE! 

Genre: Gore smut 

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it. 

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read. 

Breaking and entering. 

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point. 

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared. 

This was supposed to be easy. 

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons. 

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them. 

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before. 

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening. 

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat. 

One down. 

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out. 

…A gunshot. 

A gunshot?! 

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway. 

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer. 

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times. 

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant. 

Three down. 

But still one bullet unaccounted for. 

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down. 

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time. 

Nothing. 

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet? 

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut. 

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet… 

This silence is sickening. 

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again. 

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!” 

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant. 

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor. 

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head. 

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side. 

Clean through. 

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself. 

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement. 

Not a sound. 

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade. 

Nothing. 

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!” 

Not even a twitch. 

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin. 

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on. 

This isn’t happening. 

This isn’t happening. 

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone— 

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound. 

Was that a…cough? 

He looks down at Toby’s body. 

It hasn’t moved. 

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood. 

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened. 

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still. 

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet. 

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye. 

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow. 

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell. 

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway. 

The first bullet. 

Clean through, and out the back. 

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing. 

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that. 

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment. 

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued. 

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is. 

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely. 

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like. 

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder. 

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!” 

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit. 

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!” 

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort. 

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows. 

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.” 

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward. 

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!” 

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else. 

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still. 

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts. 

He thought he was gone. 

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo. 

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson. 

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm. 

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him. 

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it’s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.” 

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room. 

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side. 

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“ 

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe. 

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body. 

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else. 

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze: 

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own. 

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to. 

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless. 

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet. 

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again. 

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else. 

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored. 

“…How did that feel?” 

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up. 

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?” 

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth. 

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses. 

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.” 

Tim’s breath hitches. 

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling. 

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver. 

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner. 

“Keep talking.” 

Toby’s stomach flips. 

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground. 

He doesn’t want this to stop. 

He has to keep going. 

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…” 

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans. 

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers. 

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down. 

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.” 

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask. 

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?” 

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy. 

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in  a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“ 

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!” 

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening. 

It’s working. 

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. 

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all. 

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious. 

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror. 

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull. 

He doesn’t want this to end. 

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it. 

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God. 

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds. 

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on. 

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!” 

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back. 

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster. 

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!” 

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off. 

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!” 

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all. 

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.” 

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch. 

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. 

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…” 

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good. 

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten. 

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby. 

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time. 

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think. 

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!” 

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams. 

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead. 

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. 

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone. 

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.” 

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…” 

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness. 

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise. 

Dammit, he thinks. 

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

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[butmakeitgayblog]

There’s just something so special about your CI Clexa which got me thinking—given their dynamic and individual trauma, what does their end look like? Who goes first and does the other soon follow like those old couples where the other dies of a broken heart or does one outlive the other and what does life look like then? They’re just very us against the world. Curious what your ending for them looks like

You don't know what to do with yourself anymore.

That's all you keep thinking as you stand there, staring. Eyes tracing the dash carved in winter grey marble that connects both your names.

It was always going to be like this, you think. Always going to end this way, because you were doomed from the first day you fell. And you'd known it. You'd known that loving her was so dangerous, so disastrous and threatening to the core of your very being, that you'd resisted at every turn... but like everything when it came to her.

You'd given in.

And let her consume you.

And you hadn't regretted loving her for one single second.

You lean heavier on the cane at your side and shift under the umbrella that your assistant holds over you. You know she'd call you spoiled for it, roll her eyes and make a comment about how delicate you must be.

But then again, she'd also be tucked into your side. Not six fucking feet deep.

The patter of rain muffles the squelch of wheels on grass and you don't even both to look to see who has come to settle in beside you.

You don't care because they don't matter.

Nothing matters. Not anymore.

Because every time you breathe, it feels like you're losing her all over again.

"Would it help if I said despite the decrepit state of you, you were somehow the hottest widow I've ever seen?"

You sigh without blinking, still staring at the perfectly lined writing of your favorite name.

"Fuck off, Raven."

You miss your love so much in that moment, that you know you must sound eerily like her.

Raven's chuckle hits your ears like fingernails on sandpaper, and you regret having even invited her to begin with.

"There she is," she says through a sniffle that you know has more to do with the wet autumn air than anything relating to your loss. "How are you holding up?"

You feel yourself frown at the question, both for its stupidity and its intention, because when the hell has she ever cared about anyone else's feelings?

Much less yours.

"I'm fine," you say mechanically. The same way you've been saying it to everyone who's asked for the last 76 hours, 39 minutes, and however many meaningless seconds.

But the truth is... you're not fine. And you know you'll never be fine again. Because you stare at her name etched into freshly cut marble and loathe how it does nothing to convey the sheer force of nature that your wife is.

How her hair feels when it tickles your collarbones as she inevitably leans in for 'just one more kiss'. How it smells like her favorite shampoo mixed with just a touch of your signature perfume. Because for decades you've been in the disgustingly domestic habit of letting her rest on your shoulder while you read to her, tucked warm and safe in the haven of your oversized bed.

Or how she'd gone soft in her old age, in all the right ways, always so warm and pliant in the weakening of your fingers.

None of it tells how she could make the world burn with only a flick of her elegant wrist, and sigh the softest sweet breath across the dip of your neck. How she'd rage at you with her fire. Make the earth shatter in her fury. A thousand pieces of her love spilled out at your feet, because she trusted you to collect every one.

How the lipstick of her goodbye morning kisses always left your mouth just a single shade a redder. How she'd never noticed that you'd changed your color pallete just to suit that, because having her on your lips always made your day better.

At least... you don't think she's ever noticed. You know you've certainly never told her, more enchanted with idea of it being your little secret of just how much you adore her.

The thought makes you smile, because that little nugget of information would undoubtedly have her pitching an outright fit. Smattering you with too-hard kisses as she stomps around childishly, indignant what with how prone to sulking your wife is—

... was...

Was...

The smile slips away from your lips.

She's quiet through all your thoughts. So quiet her voice almost makes you jump.

You'd almost forgotten she's even there.

"I don't think I've ever seen you quite this mopey."

"Sincerely, fuck off, Raven."

"Even that's still annoyingly attractive, for what it's worth."

"You know if she were here right now, she'd slap you for that."

"I'm only saying I don't know why you're being so dreary. You know she loved you."

"You know she hated you?"

Her chuckle sounds more like gravel this time around, wet and disgustingly thick. Your wife had told the fucking idiot to stop smoking at least once a month for last 61 years.

You even remember her saying it on your wedding day when she'd smelled like expensive champagne and nicotine and had insisted on cutting in.

"She actually was half in love with me, I'm sure of it. Why else do you think she let me keep coming around," Raven exhales when she's knocked enough phlegm free.

God, you fucking hate old people.

Even if by all accounts you are indeed one of them too. But you can't find it in yourself to feel anything beyond the burning behind your eyes, because you'd sworn to each other in an oath of half-smiled kisses that you'd only grow old together.

And technically you had done that. She had kept her end of the bargain.

But still you feel cheated in this somehow.

Because she'd kissed you so thoroughly and promised that it was you and her against the world. That she'd give you nothing less than forever...

And now all that's left is you.

You let the cold seep into your bones and ignore the chattering teeth of the idiot beside you.

Because how do you explain that of course you know she loved you. But it was because of that love that this was your curse in life? That this was always going to happen, simply because you dared to let yourself love her too?

How do you explain that no matter how fast you have run from it, you will always be that little girl inside. Tarred and feathered in the luxury of her Sunday mourning best, with mahogany braids twining her hair.

You stare at the coffin that holds your only reason for anything. The whole of your heart resting peacefully inside it. And for the second time in your life, your head fills with a riot of nothing. Only three small words play over and over again in your mind.

'I'm all alone now...'

[thebansacredbanned]

ok so I have managed to lose the original fic ask game post that @wishthefish tagged me in a couple of weeks ago bUT I did save this screenshot so I will just randomly talk about these fics for a bit (I am always happy to talk about my fics for a bit, this is an open invitation) SO

I know I've been through the wars

This is part of the greater Xuyao (yes Wen Xu and Meng Yao, no I'm not sorry, they're immensely shippable if you're not a coward) 'choose your own adventure' verse where I basically lose my mind and create diverging timelines in almost all of which Meng Yao suffers terribly bc Meng Yao whump is weirdly easy to write

The cyoa thread for this is 'Wen Xu dies as in canon and Wen Chao decides he wants Meng Yao for himself' -> 'Wen Chao dies as in canon, WRH continues to let everyone else abuse MY' -> 'NMJ conceals the way MY has been treated so no one knows'

All the titles from the greater Xuyao cyao fic come from the The Amazing Devil song "Battle Cries", which I chose mostly because there was a cool lyric for the first fic back when it was supposed to be a one-shot, but also loads of the lyrics from the song work really well

I picked "I know I've been through the wars" for this chapter because unlike in the alternate branch of this fic where everyone finds out, only MY (and NMJ, to a certain extent) have any idea of what exactly MY has been through. Which is good because his trauma isn't being gossiped about! But is also Bad because people who him to be happy (people = LXC) keep accidentally making things worse :3

which then my few beloved commenters were like 'this is so evil!' and i was like 'it's not even that bad' and they were like 'YES it IS', but angst is my default at this point for some reason so I didn't notice oops

At the end MY runs away from the banquet to hide. There's currently one sequel branch for this (NMJ goes to find him and is actually helpful for once (this is largely NHS' fault)). I have some plans for another branch (LXC goes to find him and continues to try to help without knowing the problem) but the way my brain was taking it was almost Too Dark for me so I haven't written it (yet). I might. Or I might be nice to MY for once and have LXC go and actually find out the problem. But then I'd be being nice so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it

This is. Nie Mingjue/Jin Zixun. I am sorry about this one

So when I wrote the first Xuyao installment I really wanted to write but my brain wasn't clicking so I put the sunshot generation into a random name picker, spun it a bunch of times, and decided Meng Yao and Wen Xu would be interesting (it was going to just be a creepy dark fic and then I wrote like three sentences and went oh. it's a love story. oops)

ANYWAY a few months later when I was bored I spun the wheel a bunch more times so now I have a Selection of rare pairs for whenever I feel like it

Mingxun was Not the one I was going to write first but here we are

Basically my initial thoughts were "jin zixun gets bullied into going to war by his cousin and then gets his gay awakening when he gets shouted at my nie mingjue" and yeah I guess that Happened

The title is a lyric from "Helpless" from Hamilton and was @nemainofthewater's fault/idea, which I thank her sincerely for because I hate titling things. I also think it's really funny

This was SUPPOSED to be a short crack one-shot but then wishthefish bullied/persuaded/encouraged to write more and it's annoyingly fun so now there are at least three chapters with the potential of more

Takes place within a mixture of show and book canons, whichever is funnier at any given moment

Really, if Jin Zixun is too busy being distracted by da-ge then no one is causing problems at the hunt and no one is getting murdered by out of control Wen Ning so like. This could very much solve all the problems

[hannahwatcheshorror]

SMILE (2022)

😿Cat Dies 💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead

This movie has a spooky hook with the creepy smiling and as a psychiatric patient myself I don’t think they are too disrespectful to psychiatric patients (like some horror movies can be). The pacing is very good, though there are quite a few jump scares to be aware of (your heart rate just goes back down before the next big jump scare). It feels like a very well rounded film with good practical and special effects.

(TW Suicide)

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Dr. Rose Cotter (welcome back) is our overworked and highly traumatized psychiatrist who wants to help make everyone feel okay! Too bad she doesn’t listen when her boss (Kal “Grinning” Penn) tells her to go home for the day, she takes one last patient who ends up giving her some sort of Smile Demon. (Mondays, am I right?) This is reminiscent of the movie “It Follows” but less sex and much more suicide.  Rosie thinks nothing of it (because she’s a man of science) but then the demon literally and actually killed her cat, packaged it up, and gave it to her nephew as a gift for his birthday. WHICH all had happened on the night of a break-in so Rose should have at LEAST been able to get Holly (I see what their mom did) to agree that MAYBE someone ELSE put the dead cat in the box instead of the real gift?? But maybe that is just me? Also If a movie is going to go through the trouble of making us see a dead pet, (I hate them already BUT) why is it always such poor CGI that you can barely tell what it is in the first place? At least use a prop for goodness sake! What is the worst that will happen: people will be upset? They already decided to kill off the family cat, which they named Mustache, by the way (kind of adorable), so how dare they make it look crappy to then try and skirt around THEIR bad choice.

Petition for horror movie couples to not have pets. Let the horror movie monster just plop some fresh roadkill in the giftbox, that's more gross anyway AND you’d be worried about rabies. Plus in the context of this movie, if baby boy Jackson pulled a run over raccoon out of the hobby shop box, then everyone at the party would have been asking, “Did Dr. Cotter go down by the tracks and get herself a ‘coon?”

Finally she tries to tell her fiancée (A-Train, who at first he is super nice and reasonable so you forget about all his A-Train crimes and just see him as a very handsome man) but he doesn’t believe her, which is kind of fair because what she says is hard to believe (other than her saying she didn’t kill their cat, he should believe her on that, especially because he knows about the break in that night) but we (the audience) know that the Smile Demon is real so the more A-train doesn’t believe her the more we just feel bad for her and don’t like him. (And now I'm getting strong “They Look Like People” vibes, actually they might have even said that exact line a few times during this film… just go watch TLLP)

Which brings in her ex-boyfriend the cop? And it is giving the STRONGEST “Killer Klowns from Outer Space” third wheeling vibes but I digress… He pops up and Rose needs to use him for his police connections and he believes her about the demon because he sees all the suicides. I guess it's romantic? (Him believing her, not all the death.) I don’t know how we are supposed to feel about it other than just being glad Rosie has someone who believes her. Then she has to go fight the demon who is looking like her mom and it turns out Rose let her mom die as a kiddo, but that’s okay! Because reasons! And trauma! And honestly Dr. Cotter was such a boss when she told off her mom/the demon at this point. I am really not sure if this was a hallucination for her benefit or the demon trying to fuck with her and failing, but hey, it was cathartic for Rosie. But then her mom turns into Slenderman doing drag and it is, wow, it is rough. And they are yelling about who controls Rose’s mind, and then flames!

NOW this is where I WISH the credits roll. Because what happens next is... Just okay. So. She goes to her cop ex-boyfriend's place to have a heart to heart and it is super weird. It felt like the movie genre shifted to romantic drama but then cop ex started smiling. Turns out it wasn't over and cop ex was actually there IRL. And then Dr. Rose is covering herself in gasoline. And Cop ex watches her burn. And “lollipop” is playing loudly as the credits roll and I feel like I’ve missed something with the plot.

But yeah so it ends and I feel a little bit ripped off right there at the finale but that is often a feeling I get when watching a horror film. Overall the movie was full of suspense and a building fear so it still keeps its high score.

[mediocre-writerr]

don’t blame me [emily prentiss]

emily prentiss x fem reader

requested: i have a emily prentiss request! reader and emily have been fighting and something happens to the both of them and they make up at the end

“Emily please!” you placed your head in your hands as you were having yet another argument in your shared apartment.

You took a deep breath as she started yelling again, “What Y/N?! Are you cheating on me with Spencer?” 

“What?” you ask, giving her an incredulous look. 

“You two have been awfully close lately.” she points out.

Spencer has always been your best friend. Ever since you joined the BAU together and being the youngest out of the pack. The two of you grew an instant bond despite all of his annoying knowledge. 

“We’ve always been close Em! Do you really not trust me that much?” you ask, looking up at her. 

She just stood there unsure of what to say. But the silence said it all, she didn’t trust you. 

“We’ve been dating for almost a year now and you don’t trust me. Got it.” you whisper, getting up to pack an overnight bag. 

Emily didn’t say anything. She just stood there and watched. Tears stinging her eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. I’ll be at JJ’s.” you whisper, leaving the apartment.

Emily didn’t know what to say. She was running thoughts through her mind. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. This was the longest relationship she’s ever been in (Doyle does not count). 

I guess she was scared. She didn’t want to ruin it so she was self-exploding the relationship herself. Making Y/N hate her until she eventually runs off so she doesn’t have to deal with the pain of Y/N breaking up with her on her own.

You found yourself at JJ and Will’s house, knocking on their front door. 

JJ opened the door confused, but with a small smile on her face, “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” 

“Emily and I got into another fight. She thinks I’m cheating on her with Spence.” you say, “Can I stay here tonight?” 

“Of course. Come in, we can talk more about it here.” she whispers. 

Will comes down the stairs, “Hey Y/N, it’s nice to see you again...” 

He continued talking, but you couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. So you stuck with the pleasantries, “It’s good to see you too.” 

JJ poured the two of you a glass of wine as you curled up onto the couch. Henry came running into your lap when he saw you on the way to say goodnight to his mom. 

“Hey bud!” you say ruffling his blonde hair. 

“Hi.” he whispers meekly as you gave him a squeeze. 

You smile at the boy as he hugs his mom goodnight. 

You start to explain everything to her from the past week of the two of you just going at each other’s throats. And even though you were a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you had a hard time reading Emily. 

Or anyone who wasn’t a killer/kidnapper/arsonist. 

“Y/N, remember that this is her first actual long-term relationship?” JJ says giving her a piece of the puzzle and you nod not understanding her point, “And you know that her relationships haven’t quite worked out in the past?”

“Mhm, I don’t see your point.” you say, completely clueless.

“You do work the BAU correct?” JJ asks laughing. 

You roll your eyes softly, “Duh.” 

“I think you should talk to her. Just ask her what’s going on and go from there.” she suggests and you nod, “Get some rest, we don’t know when Hotch is gonna call.” 

You didn’t understand what JJ was trying to get at. Emily was the best thing that ever happened to you and you would never break her heart in anyway. But the past few days she’s been breaking your heart.

Something she always promised she wouldn’t do.

As JJ expected not even three hours into your sleep, you were woken up by a phone call from Hotch talking about some unsub in Newport, Rhode Island. 

The two of you slowly got ready as the lack of sleep the two of you were experiencing was apparent. JJ drove you two to the BAU headquarters. As you exited the elevator Penelope held a drink carrier in her hand full of hot coffee.

“Thank you.” you whisper to Penelope, shooting her a grateful smile and patting her back. 

As you went into the briefing room, Emily was already sitting there next to Derek. Spencer was also sitting there across from Em with a small smile on his face. 

You walked around the table greeting everyone. You ruffled Spence’s shaggy hair, and fist bumped Derek. Purposefully, avoiding Emily. You didn’t want to talk to her if she doesn’t even trust you. You took the spot next to JJ as you waited for Hotch to come in to give the background. 

“Hello everyone, sorry about the lack of sleep tonight, but this is the fifth death this week.” Hotch says stifling his own yawn, “We have Peter Taylor, age 34, single with no kids. Blunt force trauma to the head before being shot in the heart.” 

Hotch goes over the rest of the victims going all the way to the very beginning. All of them had the same MO’s: blunt force trauma and being shot in the heart. They were also men around the same age. 

He was about to continue on as everyone pitched ideas for what kind of killer this unsub may be, but Hotch got a call. He stepped out of the room and as we waited, Spence kicked your leg softly from under the table. 

Sliding you a note from his notebook: Are you and Em okay?

You quickly wrote down a response: Honestly, no. 

That’s all you put. He read it trying to study, both you and her. Emily noticed the little exchange of notes that was passed. It was enough to make her feel insecure about her own state. Passing notes like they were back in elementary school. 

But maybe this was for the best, Emily thought. 

“Alright guys, we gotta go, there was another body found.” Hotch says, “Wheels up, like now.”

“His killing time is shortening which means he’s gonna go out of control.” Derek says and we all look at each other with determination in our eyes. 

All of you headed onto the plane in a flash. Every time you were on the plane you took the spot next to Emily. It was a little thing the two of you did, basking in the comfort and the safety of each other before going out into the dangerous field. 

Sort of like a good luck charm.

But this time was different. Emily waited for you expectedly to take the seat next to her, but you didn’t. You took a seat by yourself, away from the rest of the group. The entire team eyed each other, all of them concerned at the couple’s behavior recently.

You put your headphones drowning out the rest of the noise, trying to get much sleep as possible. 

When you arrived in Newport, the air was cool as the costal breeze hit your hair. The smell of the salty sea filling your nostrils. You loved being along the coast, it was one of your favorite things. 

It brought you calmness and peace. 

You and the rest of the team got to work as you reached the police station. Hotch paired the team off as per usual, pairing you and Em to go check out the most recent body. 

The two of you walked together in silence, neither of you knew what to say. It wasn’t the comfortable silence the two of you have while lying in bed watching whatever was on the TV. It was an awkward silence of you at your breaking point in the relationship, not understanding what’s wrong. 

“Blunt force to the head, shot to the heart. This is an act of our guy.” Emily says softly, the first time that you were speaking since last night. 

You looked down at the body and noticed a little paper sticking out of his pocket. Picking it up with your glove, you opened it as it read three simple words.

Don’t Blame Me

“Don’t blame me?” you say, more of a rhetorical question than anyone else. 

“What?” she asks.

You hand her the note, “It says don’t blame me.” I whisper.

The handwriting didn’t look a man’s handwriting. It was neat and polished. Men’s handwriting are usually messy and sometimes illegible. 

You start to walk away from the scene finished with the crime scene, leaving her behind. When Em notices you’re gone she immediately starts running after you.

“Y/N!” she yells, finally catching up to you and spinning you to face her, “What’s the matter with you?” she asks.

You scoff in response, “Tell me why.” 

“Why what?!” she asks, yelling, frustrated with how cold you’re being to her.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N I-” she paused struggling for what else to say, but nothing was coming out.

She was left speechless, just like she was when you left the night before. 

You nod, “Never mind. Come talk to me when you’re ready.” you whisper, disappointedly. 

As the day went on you learned more and more about the unsub. The team gathered more clues and realized that all of the victims were connected to one women. 

Hayley Nolan, a bartender at the famous bar in town. She was 26 and very popular with the guys and gals around town. 

Whoever this unsub was targeted all of the men who flirted with her. She wasn’t married or had any kids. But she was in a relationship with a one Matthew Grimes. 

We interrogated Matthew, but checked all of his alibi’s that he was at work every night of the attacks. 

You and the team were in Hayley’s home, making sure to keep a cop with her at all times. When you took a look around the house as you watched the time go by, you realized that Matthew still wasn’t back yet.

“Hayley? Where did Matthew say he was going?” you ask as you entered the living room again. 

She shook her head trying to remember, “He said he was going to the gym, but that was a couple hours ago.”

All of you shared nervous glances as you realized that he was probably in danger right now. Reid and JJ come bursting into the room, “We found out who the unsub is.”

“Hayley, does the name Taylor Hunt ring a bell?” Reid asks as he sits down on one of the chairs in the living area. 

Hayley nods softly, “Yeah. She’s one of the regulars at the bars.”

“Does she ever seem protective when someone tries to flirt with you?” you ask.

“Yeah, all the time. I always thank her for it by giving her free drink. Why?” and then it all starts piecing together for her, “Oh my gosh. You don’t think she-” 

JJ squeezes her hand softly, “You see Taylor is living in her own little fantasy world. Making her believe that you’re flirting with her and want to be with her. When in reality you’re just being nice. So she kills off anyone who she thinks is a threat.” 

“We need to find Matthew now.” Derek says sternly. 

You and him run out of the house and into one of the vans. Driving your way as quickly as possible to the gym.

Your phone started to ring and you answered it, your eyes scanning the road you were driving on, “Police called and said they’re inside the gym. Hostage situation. Me and Prentiss are right behind you.” Hotch says. 

Making your way into the gym, the two of you noticed that you Hotch and Emily were already in there. Both of them had their guns away so both of you put your guns away. 

When Taylor saw us come into the room, she pointed her gun towards us. But Emily was quick to intervene.

“Hey, it’s okay. They won’t hurt you. I know how you feel.” Emily says softly, trying to get through to her. 

“You do?” Taylor asks.

Emily nods and you were intrigued at where she was going with this, “I know how it feels to love someone so much you’re scared everyday that you’re gonna lose them. Everyone is so intrigued by them and they’re so beautiful and funny that you can’t help but feel that she’ll choose someone else.”

Your tilt your head to the side as Emily makes a quick side glance to you.

“But the difference is that you’re stronger than me. You’re trying to protect what you have with Hayley. I tend to just cause useless fights because I’m scared that they’ll break my heart. So instead of being surprised by the heartbreak, I explode our relationship.” Emily adds on. 

And everything finally starts clicking. Everything JJ was trying to say, all of it.

“Now you don’t want to do that so if you really love Hayley, I need you to put the gun down. And let Matthew go.” she whispers.

Taylor lets out a quiet sob before putting down the gun and letting Matthew go. Em goes over to her and puts her hand behind her back, handcuffing her. Hotch takes her to the cop car while Morgan tends to Matthew’s wounds. 

You ran over to your girlfriend embracing her in a huge hug. She holds you close and tight, like she’s afraid that you might walk away again.

Taking your hand you place it underneath her chin to get her to look at you, “I love you. And I am never gonna break your heart. I promise.” 

[kgirl1fromff]

For the ask game, how about Kyburi?

okay, YES

favorite thing about them Kyburi is full of hate and like, that's her whole character and I love that about her. normally such a one-dimensional character could fall flat or bother me but like, her entire character is that she's Agura's female counterpart and she is full of spite. she cares for nothing and no on except maybe Krytus, send tweet also, goes without saying the the energy-draining claws are pretty cool

least favorite thing about them I guess that her car is pretty much an exact replica of the Tangler? Adding two more wheels does not make it a new car @ screenwriters for BF5. Obviously they have to be counterparts and it makes for some killer fight scenes but I feel like they could have put a little more effort into it. they did a decent job making unique counterpart vehicles for the rest of the RS5 (except maybe Krylox). but to be fair, the fangs and stealth mode are pretty cool, like can we get this for our girl Agura pls and thnx

favorite line she calls Tezz "electric boy" in "Found! and Lost" and that absolutely kills me. also, anytime she calls her teammates fools. this woman has no chill and even less patience and I love her for it

brOTP IMO Kyburi is way too volatile of a person to have a brOTP. You're either someone she would kill for, or you serve a functional purpose in her life and she deems that acceptable but will give zero fucks if you live or die (@ kytren, krylox & kyrosys, sorry boys) Like, there are no brOTPs in Kyburi's life; you're either her ride or die or it's her world and you're just living in it and she'll allow that for now™

OTP Krytus/Kyburi (Krytburi). See the random headcannon section for a whole explainer on this as I wrote an entire fic around how these two get together, but like, Krytus and Kyburi definitely fuck. In Shadow Runners, when he yells at her to "never call me weak again," you know he said that because he meant it but also for the hate sex. literally the Multiverse's hottest and most emotionally volatile couple

nOTP Kyburi/Krylox for no reason other than Krylox is a himbo and Kyburi cannot put up with that energy, like she would drain Krylox in t-minus .5 seconds if they were ever stuck in the same room together (I did not intend this to be a Krylox hate post but whoops it turned into one)

random headcanon bad news for anyone who thought they were getting into a short post because I have a whole fic written around this! It's called Eternity & you can find it here but here are some bullet points from it -Kyburi grew up on the streets of Modulon 5 as an orphan, right as tension between the Reds and Blues was getting to an all-time high -She has a little sister named Kiry who she'd literally do anything to protect but she hates just about everyone else -When their parents died, Sage's parents took in Kyburi's Blue twin. (Kiry's Blue twin didn't survive childbirth, which is also what killed their mother). But they didn't take in Kyburi or Kiry because sentiment against Reds was so bad at the time, so Kyburi was left to fend for herself and her baby sister, which is why she hates Blues so much. she has major trust issues and a LOT of them stem from this incident -Krytus eventually finds her when she's living on the streets of Modulon 5; they fall in love and move to the Red Sentient planet to join the revolution. Krytus essentially saves her and from that moment on it's her and Krytus against the world -Red Sentients still have pretty traditional gender roles, so the men fight in the revolution while she starts working in the hospital and is tasked with healing Kytren, who's addicted to a Red Sentient street drug (hence the fragmented speech). this gives her a soft spot for Kytren but there will always be a part of her that thinks he's weak because they went through similar traumas and she overcame hers while he turned to drugs. she has slightly more patience with him than the rest of her teammates but only a smidge because again, she's Kyburi and she hates, I repeat, everything

unpopular opinion I don't think I have one unless there's someone out there who disagrees with the fact that Kyburi is a certified one-dimensional bad bitch

song i associate with them "Girls in the Hood" by Megan Thee Stallion because it has bad bitch energy. also because she is literally a hot girl. also Experiment on Me by Halsey (from the Birds of Prey soundtrack) because the whole song is just angry screaming and that also matches Kyburi's energy The TL;DR for this entire post is that Kyburi is just one angry lady

favorite picture of them

low-quality but this shot of her in Deep Freeze. a queen & her throne

[akihiko-sanada]

BRO, WHY’D YOU LIKE YUKICHIE SO MUCH??

Ok first of all, bro,,, B R O, bro ilysm being able to infodump like this means so much to me for real. And second of all, this is gonna be very bullet point-e since I can't string a coherent sentence together to save my life. LET'S BEGIN:

Tropes and dichotomies

Yukichie has a bunch of romantic tropes, including but not limited to:

-Beautiful and popular genius falls for airhead jock outcast.

-Childhood best friends to lovers.

-Two girls fall in love but one girl's close minded parents (yukikos) disapprove and kick her out so she suddenly moves in with chie (this definitely happened i'm sure of it).

Now the dichotomies:

Fire and ice: I feel like I don't even have to explain why this is romantic so I'm just gonna jump straight into the evidence: Yukiko is the teammate with Agi and Chie is the one with Bufu, one of Yukiko’s themes is called “Snowflakes” and there's also the twin dragons special move.

Sun and moon: Might be a stretch but I really do think that Yukiko is the moon, silent, beautiful and graceful while Chie is the sun, energetic, bright and hot to the touch.

Shadows

Shadow Chie reveals that Chie developed an inferiority complex from constantly comparing herself to Yukiko (not surprising but aw :(), and part of this is her not feeling worthy of Yukiko and her company, bUT MEANWHILE YUKIKO HAS THE OPPOSITE PROBLEM WHERE SHE RELIES TOO MUCH ON CHIE,,, like shadow Yukiko literally says says to Chie “Chies my prince, she's a strong prince, or at least she was”, she hoped and relied on Chie to save her from having to take over the inn and having to stay in Inaba,,,,. ALSO WHEN SHADOW YUKIKO'S HEALTH IS LOW SHE SUMMONS A PRINCE SHADOW WTF, WTF WTF WTF, SHE STRAIGHT UP SUMMONS HER PRINCE, CHIE, WHEN SHE’S MOST VULNERABLE????? HELP???

And speaking of shadows, Chie is pretty calm when it comes to rescuing people from the TV world except for Yukiko, she goes absolutely APESHIT, says "You don't know SHIT about how I feel! Yukiko might DIE from this, for crying out loud! I'm going, and that's that!" before running HEADFIRST INTO A MONSTER INFESTED PALACE WITHOUT A PERSONA OF HER OWN,, TRUE LOVE RIGHT THERE BABY. She also almost single handedly beats up a whole ass police station for even suggesting that Yukiko was involved in the murders.

Color theory

I'm a huge rwby fan so colors is definitely gonna have its own section IFSFNS. Anyways, in color theory, colors that are on opposite sides of the color wheel are considered complementary colors, and guess what the most used example for this? Green and red! Green and red always pop out when they're next to each other, and color is very important in p4 (for various reasons but a big example is how all the students at school wear dull colors except for the investigation team, they're just full on power rangers), so id like to think that making Yukiko’s and Chie’s colors the prime example of complementary colors was something intentional made to remind you of how well they work together.

Also: Chie “wow yukiko red looks really good on you” yukiko, twirling her hair “haha thanks do you mind if i wear it for the rest of my life-”. Also side note I’m 100% sure that Rio’s favourite color is red because it reminds her of Hamuko <3.

Comphet and obliviousness

It's very obvious that like, everyone’s in the investigation team suffers from comphet, especially considering their reaction to Kanji coming out (which is, something), but I'm only gonna talk about yukichies; first of all this whole scene screams of comphet, no one just gushes about their friend THAT much:

Also, Chie disapproves of all of Yukiko's suitors cause she's subconsciously jealous, Chie is 100% a baby lesbian cause shes literally like: “haha im not a lesbian, I just cut my hair short and mostly hang out with guys because then I’ll be more masculine and men like girls so-aw shit”.

Also, Inaba is a breeding ground for comphet because it's a rural town in the middle of nowhere in a town where most of the popuñation is old so,,,yeah,,,.Yukiko feels like her only option in life is to take over the Amagi inn and follow in her family's footsteps, which would in turn be like rotting away in Inaba, so I like to think that the Amagi inn is some sort of metaphor for how being yourself is key even though it can disappoint your parents by making you stray from the path they paved for you, but that’s still an important step to take to become a better person and being true to yourself. Now that isn't very different from coming out now is it?

Official art and others

-Yukiko’s and Chie’s designs inspired Tomoe Tachibana and Maria Torres from Trauma Team and they’re hella gay

-Yukiko and Chie are next to each other or side eyeing each other when the other isn't looking in 99% of the official art they're in, I wonder why that is-. Also if  you look through Chie’s gallery 90% of her photos include Yukiko and vice versa.

-Everyone in Inaba knows that Chie and Yukiko are practically dating cause some bullies literally threaten Chie with hurting Yukiko saying stuff like “that precious Yukiko-san of yours” and “So don't you care about what happens to your loved ones” LIKE HELLO???

-Chies social link? oh you mean the yukichie social link right? No but seriously like Chies social link revolves around Yukiko NANFFGGW

-Yukiko’s theme in p4u is “princess Amagi” and shadow Yukiko calls Chie her prince, coincidence? ABSOLUTELY NOT. 

Fun headcanons and random stuff

-Chie definitely short circuited for a full ten seconds when she saw Yukiko in a yukata for the first time

-I'm sure that when the investigation team meets up like 20 years after p4 they'll be like “wait Yukiko you've been living with Chie for years?? did you get married?” Yukiko and Chie who haven't even started dating officially “no?? what are you talking about- WAIT.”

-Yukiko and Chie: *adopt three cats and a dog and call them their children*, also yukichie “we’re just really good friends :)))”

-Yukiko and Chie definitely made out with each other a couple of times using the excuse of “were practising for when we have boyfriends”

In conclusion, yukiko and chie have the type of love where they've known each other for so long and care for each other so deeply and passionately that they don't need to search for a significant other because deep down they've always known they were each others. They've always pictured the other in their life from beginning to end but have yet to put together that they want to be in each others life romantically because of comphet and just, never really seeing each other as an option because they've just always been friends, nothing more nothing less. Thank you for coming to my ted talk I hope I gave you yukichie brainrot <3

[bestworstcase]

What are your opinions on the whole Rapunzel-Varian drama in S1 post Queen For A Day, especially with the whole "Rapunzel should've checked on Varian after the snowstorm" or whose fault it was for their conflict?

tbh… if i had to pick one single representative example of the tts fandom’s general inability to handle nuance in fictional conflict, it’d be the QFAD discourse™

because! while this isn’t to rag on anyone, if you pick a random person with an opinion on this question, chances are they will fall into one of two camps. either: 1) corona’s treatment of varian was horrifically unjust and everyone involved except him is a terrible person, or 2) rapunzel did what she had to do and varian’s anger is irrational, unfounded, and fundamentally unfair.

people in camp #1 tend to believe that rapunzel was simply being selfish and acting like a sulky child when she failed to check up on varian after the storm. people in camp #2 tend to point out that rapunzel was traumatized by the events of QFAD too, and believe that this justifies her failure to check up on varian.

but the thing is imo the conflict in QFAD + the rest of s1 is just as complex and messy as the argument cassandra and rapunzel have in RATGT, in that there is no One True Right Answer and no person who is one hundred percent “at fault.” the question of blame is… honestly sort of beside the point if you ask me. to break this down:

#1: rapunzel is a sheltered teenager with minimal social skills dealing with a national emergency halfway through her first unsupervised couple days on the job.

the girl has had like eight months tops of training for the monumental task of ruling a country. she grew up in a situation where the only choice available to her was how she would wile away her free time inside her tower; gothel exerted total control over every other facet of her life. and while she has a little more wiggle room now that she’s out of the tower, she is still basically living her life with all the big, consequential choices made for her.

QFAD was intended to be her first taste of true authority, while still being ultimately inconsequential. if all had gone according to plan, corona would have ticked along more or less on autopilot—just as frederic left it—while rapunzel got in a little practice making judgment calls about minor, unimportant things, like mediating small interpersonal disputes between her subjects.

nobody expected, and rapunzel was absolutely not prepared for, a legitimate national crisis to explode in her face out of nowhere. this was supposed to be pedaling by herself for the first time with training wheels and what she got instead is careening down the freeway on a motorbike at 95mph with zero warning. it is a miracle that she held things together as well as she did.

#2: varian is a child with an emotionally distant, unsupportive father who sets him up for failure.

he’s smart but he’s also fourteen. he has little if any formal training in alchemy, he’s figuring stuff out by trial and error, and he has zero adult supervision. his efforts have caused significant levels of destruction twice in only a few months—the exploding boilers in WTH, and his invention going haywire (with a little help from st. croix) in GE—and it’s implied that this is a fairly regular occurrence with him.

and yet quirin does nothing. he shouts at varian, shuts him down, and at several points orders him point blank to stop messing with alchemy… but he makes no effort to connect with his son or understand where he’s coming from; he doesn’t try to impose reasonable restrictions (like “don’t mess with volatile chemicals unless i’m there to help”) that would allow varian to pursue his passion while minimizing the danger; and he doesn’t create an environment where varian feels able to turn to his father for help. and then with the black rocks, he lets varian come along to see the king, but refuses to explain why he “lied” (/spoke in code) to the king, destroying any credibility he had in varian’s eyes and making varian panicky and desperate because it seemed like no one else cared.

so the end result is that varian feels like he has no choice but to sneak around behind quirin’s back. he can’t rely on his dad for help if anything goes wrong, but the situation is so dire that doing nothing also isn’t an option. he tries his best to be careful (before quirin barges in on him, varian is attempting to put just one drop of the amber serum on the rock) but even if quirin hadn’t startled him, a terrible accident was bound to happen sooner or later, and the responsibility for that lays just as much if not more on quirin’s shoulders—the adult in this situation—as on varian’s. the kid is FOURTEEN.

(i think a neat argument could be made for varian as a deconstruction of the teen/YA fantasy trope of the hyper-competent teenager with absentee parents whose absence allows the teen to get on with the important work of the high-stakes fantasy plot; but that’s a whole different post)

#3: rapunzel did the right thing, but lost control over the situation due to lack of experience.

it would have been wrong to abandon everybody in corona to run off into the blizzard with varian, and frankly it wouldn’t have helped quirin anyway. he was already encased in amber by the time varian got back to old corona, and rapunzel couldn’t have done anything in the moment had she been with varian then. the only benefit to her presence would have been to comfort varian—which is not a small thing, obviously, but it’s not in any way a reasonable exchange for the hundreds or thousands of lives that would have been lost if she left corona completely without a leader in the middle of a crisis. so broadly speaking, staying in corona was the right call.

however.

rapunzel was not in control during that scene in the palace. varian bursts in, panicking, explains his situation and begs for her help—and rapunzel just says, basically, “i can’t help you, there’s an emergency.” then nigel comes in and reinforces that, which makes varian freak out; he grabs rapunzel and shakes her, nigel signals for the guards in response, and varian gets dragged out of the palace while rapunzel pleads with the guards not to hurt him.

(sidebar: the hate nigel gets for describing varian as “attacking” rapunzel is unfounded. varian grabs her and shakes her roughly back and forth and that is, in fact, assault. nigel is not wrong to describe it as such.)

anyway, notice two the things that DON’T happen here:

1) rapunzel doesn’t offer up any alternative solutions. a more experienced or better prepared leader could have responded to varian’s plea with a plan of action, like: i need to stay in corona to oversee the evacuation, so we can’t leave right this minute, but cassandra will take you to ask xavier for advice right now and the minute it’s safe to leave we’ll go together to help your father. or whatever—the point is to engage proactively with varian’s problem, make him feel heard, and give him something productive to do so he isn’t just sitting around fretting in the palace or struggling back home by himself in the middle of a blizzard.

2) raps doesn’t challenge nigel’s decision when he summons the guards to throw varian out of the palace, which is something she absolutely could have done. she could have said no, i can’t go to old corona right this minute to help him, but we are not throwing him out into the storm again, he stays here with me. this is, again, a sign of her inexperience; she’s not used to being an authority, she’s never been in a situation like this before, and she’s under a ton of pressure—so when an older adult whom she sees as an authority (he’s her father’s advisor!) makes a judgment call, it probably doesn’t even occur to her that she can challenge it.

this is why i say that rapunzel lost control over the situation—because even though she made the Right Decision, she got a kind of awful outcome, ie varian being tossed out into the blizzard to struggle home by himself to deal with his problem without any support, and rapunzel inadvertently breaking her promise from earlier.

#4: rapunzel doesn’t immediately go to check on varian after the storm because she’s traumatized, busy, and trusts her father.

painter’s block is all about how the trauma rapunzel feels as a direct result of her decisions during the storm destroys her ability to choose anything. she feels so debilitated by the fear that she will make the wrong choice—because she worries that she chose wrong when she allowed varian to be sent away—that she can’t do anything at all, let alone find the emotional strength to go to old corona and confront her mistakes. and while she tries to process and move past this trauma, mrs sugarby exploits it in an attempt to force her to free zhan tiri.

the next episode, not in the mood, involves rapunzel being put under enormous pressure to entertain an irascible ally of corona’s while he and her father negotiate a trade deal with the threat of a war breaking out if they fail. NITM is a silly episode, but it has the highest non-magical stakes of any episode in the entire series. this isn’t an event rapunzel could have reasonably skipped out on for the sake of one person, no matter how much she cares. she’s slammed. she’s still being forced to prioritize just like she was in QFAD.

and in the third episode after QFAD, rapunzel is tormented by nightmares about varian and what happened to his father, so she presses frederic for information about the rocks and varian’s safety. and frederic assures her that everything is fine. he lies to her face about the rocks having been removed, and rapunzel has no reason to doubt him, so she relaxes… until varian contacts her directly, and she immediately jumps to help him.

#5: at the same time, varian has been forced into hiding because frederic is attempting to cover up the rock problem.

what happens to varian after QFAD is plainly unfair and unjust. his father is trapped in amber, the rocks have completely destroyed old corona, most of the villagers have presumably moved to the new land frederic set aside for them, and frederic’s secret police are crawling all over the village trying to suppress information about the rocks (and fred’s role in creating them). the blame for this lies squarely at frederic’s feet, and varian is right to be angry.

i believe that varian interprets rapunzel’s absence as a sign that she’s complicit in what frederic is doing, making his anger at her justified as well. he doesn’t have access to the information we do about why rapunzel doesn’t seek varian out immediately—he doesn’t see how distraught and shattered she is after the storm, or the high-stakes political nonsense she has to deal with, and he certainly doesn’t see her trying to pursue the matter of the rocks and varian’s safety with her father and being flatly lied to to convince her to stay put in corona. all he knows is that rapunzel kicked him out and now she’s ignoring him and her father’s agents keep chasing him away from his home, and he draws the conclusion that makes the most sense to him, ie rapunzel must be okay with all of this because otherwise she would be here.

and once he has that idea in his head, the fact that rapunzel immediately jumps to help him when he contacts her isn’t enough to dislodge it. he’s a scared, lonely fourteen year old boy looking at this situation through a purely interpersonal lens while rapunzel is an overwhelmed eighteen year old doing the best she can while juggling about a million things at once and putting varian low on her priority list because she’s been told by a trusted source that varian is fine.

they both make mistakes, they’re both missing important contextual information, and neither of them handles this situation in the best possible way. but neither of them is “at fault” in the sense of being purely in the wrong, and—imo—frederic and quirin hold the lion’s share of the blame here, because they had all the information, and they refused and refused and refused to deal with the black rock problem until it overwhelmed them both. varian and rapunzel are both just kids scrambling to deal with something that should not be their problem to solve, and both of them fuck up! (and even then—the best fred and quirin could’ve done was just be honest and upfront about what the problem was. neither of them had the means to fix anything, and neither of them was responsible for the very unfortunate timing of the blizzard. so it’s not as clear cut as everything bad in s1 happens because fred and quirin stuck their heads in the sand. a lot of it honestly was just sheer bad luck.)

a n y w a y, i think by s3 and after a lot of introspection, varian has figured a lot of this out, and that’s why he’s so quick to let go of his lingering grudge against rapunzel. he’s realized that at the end of the day, rapunzel was just as unprepared and lost in that situation as he was, that she’s not responsible for (and wasn’t complicit in) her father’s decisions, etc, etc.

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Sixty) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Panic attack. Character death. Alcoholism. Drugging(s). Physical trauma. Explosion(s). I think that’s it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9574

Timeline: Season 8 Episodes 24. Right after part fifty-nine.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

It wasn’t like any other panic attack I ever had. For some reason, the really bad ones only came about when I was really worried about Hotch, like after the bombing in New York when I thought he was literally dying in my arms. This time around, though, I think I was just… paralyzed. I was staring at the wall, the sheets pulled up to my chin, a ringing in my ears, flashing memories of that night back in high school. Those pictures. These pictures. What made The Replicator any different than Steven Teller? A chill ran down my spine. I hadn’t connected his name to what had actually happened to me until my parents brought him up at Hotch’s birthday dinner. I would’ve gone my whole life trying to forget his name if they hadn’t said it, if Hotch hadn’t asked about him, and if Garcia hadn’t called to tell us that someone else had pictures of me now.

Who had seen them besides Garcia? Morgan? Spencer? Morgan would’ve understood because he knew about the true nature of the original photos—hell, he was the one who stumbled upon them in Rebecca Bryant’s apartment, so he had even seen them; but I didn’t want it to be Reid. The two of us were so close now since Maeve’s death. If he saw something like that, he would get all awkward around me and our friendship would slowly fall apart, and instead of letting me into his apartment every Sunday now, he would just let Scarlet in again like he originally did.

I didn’t understand who this guy was. How had Garcia been investigating it enough for Hotch to know exactly what she was talking about, yet I was completely out of the loop? Was I the only one who didn’t know? Why didn’t Hotch tell me about this sooner—if I would’ve known that there was someone out there watching us, I would have never gone on this “vacation”, and I would have made sure that we weren’t being followed, I would’ve closed the fucking drapes. The drapes.

Hotch pushed himself out of bed and ran to the window. “We need to make sure everyone’s safe,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hotch, who is The Replicator…” I croaked.

“He might have gone after the others.”

“Hotch, answer me!”

“Later.”

“He has pictures of us, Aaron…” I croaked as he closed the drapes.

We had left them open because we were so high up, and the lights were off, and the surrounding buildings shouldn’t’ve had a good view into our room. Closing the drapes just didn’t occur to us earlier. But now that we knew he had been watching, we weren’t taking a chance. Not that it mattered. He had already seen everything. From Hotch slowly undressing me, to tying me up, spanking me, torturing me… fucking me. That asshole got a free show, and then he had the audacity to send those images to our friends. Poor Penelope. She was probably mortified. Between getting hacked and having to see literal porn of her co-worker and her boss, she was likely having a meltdown. Yet, all I could think about was how this all reminded me of high school—of the images that boy took of me then used as blackmail against me. It was eerily similar. I absolutely fucking hated it.

“Call everyone, Y/N. Call them now.”

We both raced for our phones. Hotch called Rossi while I started with Reid. I was biting at my fingers nervously as the phone rang, because every second that passed without hearing his voice just somehow convinced me that something was wrong. And then he picked up. I let out a sigh of relief and hid my face in my free hand.

“Y/N?” He had no clue what was going on. “Y/N, what is it?”

I hated that he was getting as good at recognizing my tells as Morgan was. “Where are you?”

“I’m with Morgan. We’re driving back from getting some food. Did you know that you can get sauerkraut on hotdogs? It’s such an odd concoction, considering the hotdog was invented—”

“Spencer, something happened.”

He stopped. “What?”

“You and Morgan need to get back to the Field Office immediately. Don’t stop anywhere, don’t talk to anyone, keep your heads down. Got it?”

“Y/N, what is it? Why—”

“I don’t know… Hotch isn’t telling me right now, but he says he’ll explain everything once we’re all together.”

“Okay. We’ll see you there.” I looked at Hotch as I hung up and he came back into the bedroom, dressed in a button down and slacks again so that it could pass as business formal, considering we hadn’t brought actual work clothes. “Where’s Rossi?”

“He’s with JJ. They can’t get ahold of Strauss, so JJ’s going to head to the Field Office to meet up with Spencer and Morgan while Rossi goes to check on Strauss at her hotel. We need to get dressed and go.”

“Stop,” I demanded harshly. Hotch froze in place. “You need to tell me the truth now. Who is The Replicator?” He was still frozen. “Hotch,” I crawled onto my knees, “he went after our babies, and he took pornographic pictures of us. I have every right to know before the team does.”

Hotch sighed and sat down on the corner of the bed as he explained everything to me. A couple of months ago, something peculiar started happening. Someone was replicating the cases that we were solving—everything from the human marionettes to an Unsub who had exsanguinated his victims. Strauss didn’t want the team to get involved yet, though, so it was a need-to-know case only. I wasn’t on the list. Every time it happened. Strauss found out and told Hotch. The two of them had been keeping an eye on it, and he was convinced that she was going to turn the case over to us soon, but now he was coming after us personally, which was so… unexpected to him.

Rossi called back while Hotch was telling me everything. Hotch rubbed a thumb over the arch of my foot as he answered. “You’re sure?” he asked worriedly. “Alright. Okay. We’re on our way.” He hung up. “Rossi’s convinced that something happened to Strauss… He thinks that The Replicator might have taken her.”

“Fucking hell, Aaron!” I jumped out of bed and ran to change into different clothes. The only thing I had that was “appropriate” was a v-neck and jeans. So much for our vacation. “We should’ve known about this earlier!” I exclaimed, jumping into my pants. “It’s just another lie—”

“Jesus, Y/N! Stop with the hounding about the lies! Get off my back! This was an order, not a lie!”

Actually, he was right about that one. “Fine…” I grabbed my credentials, my weapon, and my bag before joining Hotch at the door. “You’re right.” I kissed him quickly. “I’m sorry.” He closed the door behind us, and we ran off.

In the car, Hotch and I held hands, both of us shaking anxiously. His thumb was doing circles around one of my knuckles while he kept his other hand busy on the steering wheel, tapping to a random beat in his head that he was using as a distraction. He clearly didn’t know what to do with himself. He hadn’t expected that The Replicator would go for us personally—though, if he had come to me with this case before this, I would have told him that this was going to happen, and we could have prevented it.

If I would have known that this guy existed in the first place, Hotch would’ve had to drag me out of the house and to work just to leave Jack and Scarlet. I wouldn’t have sent them to school, I wouldn’t have left them to go on vacation, and I wouldn’t have let them go to the fucking park while we were gone just to give the creep an opportunity to take pictures of them. He could fuck with us all he wanted. Those pictures hurt, and the situation was still spinning in my mind to the point I wanted to throw up; but at least we were adults who could handle it. Jack and Scarlet were still just my little babies. It didn’t matter how big they were getting, they were always going to be my babies, and no one ever fucked with them.

Hotch kissed my knuckles as we parked at the hotel. He paused for a moment, turning to look at me, cradling my cheek in his other palm. “I’m sorry. If Strauss didn’t order me to keep this confidential, you would have been the first person I told. You have to believe that.”

“I do.”

“Are you okay now… knowing what we know about tonight…”

I shook my head. “No, but it’s not the point.” I escaped his touch so that I could open my car door and jump out. Hotch followed shortly, deciding to drop the conversation.

The second we stepped into the hotel room where Strauss was supposed to be staying, we saw Rossi pacing around, completely stressed out, running his hands through his hair while muttering thoughts under his breath. I glanced around. The window was open, the bed was a wreck, there was broken glass on the ground, drawers were left open, the bathroom looked like a tornado had torn through it, but what was most obvious were the mini alcohol bottles from the mini fridge that were scattered everywhere. I thought she quit drinking. There was a situation a little bit ago shortly after The Face Cards when I was still bedridden where Hotch and Rossi found out that she was an alcoholic and decided to get her some help.

“Her one year chip is here,” Rossi said, holding it up for us to see. “She never lets go of it, Hotch. Ever. The Replicator must have her.” So, everyone seemed to know about this guy besides me, I supposed? What the fuck? “I’m going to check the roof.” Rossi was already moving for the fire escape.

“Be safe. We’ll head down to the lobby to look at the security footage,” Hotch said. I wanted to go with Rossi to give him back up, but I realized that Hotch didn’t want me to stray far from him after what happened. So, I followed him out of the room, and we started hurrying towards the inside stairwell just to see if she had wandered down there somehow. Hotch’s phone started ringing.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Straus…” He cocked a brow while answering. “Erin?” He stopped in his tracks when he heard the other end, making me stumble to a halt. “Where is she, you bastard.” He started running as fast as he could through the hallways, leaving me behind.

“Aaron! No!” I yelled, trying to run after him.

“Stay here! I love you!”

Those words echoed in my head as déjà vu overtook my senses. Hotch had said the exact same thing to me after we found Sam dying on his carpet, and Hotch went to the hospital with him. The panic that hadn’t settled in earlier was certainly settling in now. I could remember how Hotch said those exact same words to me as he closed the ambulance doors, and a few moments later, I collapsed on the sidewalk, unable to hear anything, unable to move, unable to breathe until I heard his voice again. He went on his own this time, though—No.

I started dashing to follow him, even though he had enough of a head start to already be out of the building. The Replicator had talked to Hotch. He had called from Strauss’s phone, which was the perfect way to lure Hotch out of the hotel, and it worked, which meant that if he had a plan, he was going to go after Hotch next. I started skipping steps in the stairwell. Not him. Not now. Aaron Hotchner was all kinds of stupid, but I wasn’t going to let this stupid decision get him killed while I froze up in a fucking hallway. I couldn’t live with that regret if that were the case.

When I pushed through the front doors of the hotel, I started looking up and down the street in search of Hotch. He had to be around somewhere. He got a head start, sure, but not enough to disappear into the night unless someone took him. He had to be close. I refused to believe that he was anywhere other than on that block, safe, alive, and waiting for me to find him. So, I just kept looking. I spun around in circles, jumping to look over the crowd, pushing between couples just to see if Hotch was hiding somewhere. I felt like I was going insane.

And then I saw him on a bench. I recognized his hair, how dark it was, how he liked to keep it short in the back but long in his face so that I could play with it when I was bored or during sex. I recognized him because of his body type. The shirt he had put on back at the penthouse was a simple button up, but it was fit to his body so well that when he was sitting down like that, I could see his biceps stretching the sleeves, and the actual torso part of the shirt had molded against his loose abs. I would recognize my husband anywhere. Even while his face was away from me, and he had someone in his arms, I could still tell that it was him. He looked okay… at least from where I was standing. I couldn’t tell for sure, though, so I dared to run across the street and hurry over to the bench. I could tell for sure now. He was alright, but he was holding Strauss in his arms, despite the fact that she wasn’t breathing anymore.

“Aaron…” I carefully peeled his grip off of her. “Aaron, it’s okay…”

As I kneeled down in front of Hotch, I recognized the lost fright in his eyes from the bombing four years ago, and from the murder of Haley a little under that, then my kidnapping two years ago. Whenever he was panicked, whenever there was too much going on at once, his eyes got lost in the world, like he couldn’t see anything at all, yet could somehow still see everything. It was hard to explain, but the way his jaw slacked, and the way his breath was shallow, and his body was unnaturally still… It all pointed to that instinct that overtook him every time something bad like this happened.

I put my hands on his face to bring his eyes level with mine. We had been through this before, we learned how to handle it, now all he had to do was focus on me and we would be fine. He told me that feeling my touch, hearing my voice, seeing my face, it always brought him down to Earth when this happened. So, I held him close, I kissed his forehead, and I whispered to him that everything would be alright.

“He talked about Foyet,” he finally told me.

I stopped comforting him for a moment to reflect on what he just said. “What?”

“He…” He lowered his head. “He talked about how Foyet killed Haley… That I was stuck on the phone, incapable of doing anything that could help.”

“How could he know that?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head against my touch.

“Look at me, baby.” I lifted his head gently. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. Just breathe.”

“He said he’s going to race us home—”

“Shhh…”

“The kids—”

“They’re at the office. They’re safe. Please. Catch your breath with me.” I inhaled slowly, letting him know that I wanted him to mimic me. I nodded an encouragement when he started doing so, and then when we couldn’t breathe in anymore, we held it, then slowly exhaled. He was relaxing in my touch already. We did it again. “You’re doing good, baby. Keep going.”

Footsteps hit the pavement behind us. I turned somewhat, just long enough to see that it was Rossi. He froze when he saw Strauss beside Hotch. As he collapsed and pulled Erin in for a hug, I helped Hotch to his feet, pulling him away so he could collect his thoughts again.

“Don’t stop breathing, baby,” I begged, pressing my forehead against his.

“Foyet—”

“Foyet’s gone. You’re here. I’m here. The kids are safe at the office. Just breathe.”

When the EMTs arrived, they put a sheet over Strauss’s body, lifted her onto a stretcher, then rolled her into the ambulance. Rossi was quiet while he followed them. With Hotch still somewhat out of it—not as bas bad as before, but still— I was the one who nodded in his direction, letting him know that it was okay to go with her. We would see him later.

At the Field Office, Hotch was finally relaxed and level-headed enough to explain to the team what was going on and what we were going to do now. We were going to get on the jet, head back to the office, and take down whoever the hell this Replicator guy was. Everyone seemed on board, but there were a lot of questions about when Rossi would be rejoining us. Honestly, we weren’t sure. He was flying with Strauss to Bethesda to talk with her children and stick around for the autopsy, which we would have by the time we would land in Virginia and get settled back at the office. He would probably return after that… if at all. What we needed to focus on was just getting the profile done and making sure that Strauss’s death wouldn’t be in vain.

When we got back to Quantico, I ran straight into Hotch’s office, finding Jack dead asleep on the couch, buried under a blanket that Hotch always had stowed away in case we had to sleep at the office, too. As for Scarlet, though, she was still awake. Jessica was sitting in Hotch’s chair at his desk, and Scarlet was sitting across from her, playing with some toys. She spotted me almost immediately, though.

“Mom!” She slid off the chair and ran to me.

“Hey, lil’ bug!” I exclaimed, lifting her into my arms. I kissed her a thousand times. “I love you so much!” I kept kissing her. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“She’s been fussy without you guys,” Jessica said.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her. I brushed Scarlet’s hair out of her face. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story before Dad and I have to go save the world again?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and pressed her cheek against my chest while still hugging my neck.

I sat down in one of the chairs across from Hotch’s seat and relaxed. While telling her the story, I thought about how relieved I was to have her in my arms again. The Replicator had a thousand chances to take her or Jack from me, especially while Hotch and I were gone. Hell, he got close enough to take pictures. If he really wanted to hurt us, he could have stolen my lil’ bug away. If that happened, I wasn’t sure if I’d survive.

By the time the story was over, she had magically fallen asleep in my arms. I smiled and kissed her hair. As I got up to lay her down on the couch with Jack, he rolled over and started snoring, making me and Jessica chuckle quietly, but I had to shush her.

When Scarlet was done, I looked at Jess. “I’m so sorry that this keeps happening to us.”

She shook her head. “As long as everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” She stepped forward and hugged me tightly. “Are you guys okay?”

“Not right now, but we will be.”

“You’ll get an actual vacation weekend soon.”

I laughed. “$20 says it doesn’t happen.”

She pulled away from me to shake my hand. “Deal.”

There was a knock on the door from Hotch, coming to tell us that Strauss’ autopsy had been completed. His gaze flicked to the kids, and he hesitated for a moment. They were asleep, but I could tell that he wanted to wake them up and just feel the way they would give him a Superman hug at the same time until he couldn’t breathe. But he restrained himself. He carefully stepped into the room and crouched down in front of the couch, kissing Scarlet’s forehead, then Jack’s. He stayed with them for a second longer, just admiring how perfect and innocent they were. My heart broke in my chest a bit, a smile creeping onto my face, and I reached forward to brush Hotch’s hair out of his face.

“We should go, baby,” I whispered to him. He nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “They’ll be alright. I promise.” He kissed me gently while keeping my head tilted up with his thumb. When he pulled back, we pressed our foreheads together. “Your messes are my messes.”

“Your messes are my messes.” He kissed me again quickly before taking my hand and leading me out of his office, waving goodbye to Jessica. She waved back to us while sitting back down to play a game on her phone. When we walked into the boardroom, we saw that Garcia was finishing up with hanging all the evidence we had of The Replicator. “Garcia, is this everything?” Hotch let go of my hand to cross his arms over his chest.

She nodded. “JJ’s grabbing the printed copy photos from Strauss’s autopsy, but this is everything else… except for you and Y/N… You know…”

“Thanks.”

“So, while you guys were on the jet, I started digging into why he would have possibly attacked Strauss and on this day, considering he would’ve had a thousand other chances to do it if he really does work for the FBI, but I couldn’t find anything in her life that was historically relevant.”

“We need to focus on the location, then. He waited until she was in New York, rather than attacking her here or at her home.”

“Look at how many photos he had of her, guys,” Morgan pointed out, referencing the dozens of pictures of our team up on the wall. I knew that he had taken pictures of me and Hotch in bed, but I didn’t think that he had really been stalking the entire team all this time. “She’s hardly ever in the field, yet there’s more pictures of her than anyone else. It’s like he’s obsessed with her.”

“Maybe Strauss was always the real target. We were just in the way, and also a distraction.”

“I’ve got the rest of the photos,” JJ said, holding the stack up for us before heading to the board to pin them up. “We were right, he replicated the New York attacks, which accelerated his timeline. He spiked Strauss’s alcohol with meth and heroin.”

“Not ecstasy?” I asked.

“Nope.” She hung up a picture of a symbol that had been carved into Strauss’s wrist antemortem.

“Wait—” I stepped forward, halting her actions. “What is that?”

“An infinity sign?” Garcia guessed.

“An eight? Wasn’t she his eighth victim?” Morgan added.

“But why would he do that? His whole M.O. is copying our other cases as closely as possible to prove that he’s been stalking us. He wouldn’t deviate just to make things interesting now,” I said.

“He would if Strauss was his intended target.”

“It’s too random. Everything this guy has done thus far has been strategic and with the point of getting under our skin. This doesn’t affect us personally in any way, unlike the photos and him mentioning Foyet on the phone,” Hotch said.

“Wait. He knew about Foyet?” JJ questioned. “How? That was a confidential case. No one outside of our unit and SWAT knew the intricate details of what happened to Haley.”

“But the file has enough general information. He had to have accessed it somehow,” I said.

“Maybe when he hacked Garcia?”

“It’s a paper file. Cody made sure it didn’t make its way into any system to ensure that no one could get their hands on it outside of the FBI, which means… Technically, anyone working for at Quantico could know.” What was he saying? “The only people who knew where Y/N and I were this weekend before the hack was the BAU and Cody’s office. The only problem here is that Strauss wasn’t sure that she recognized him. If he works for the FBI—”

“He might not have been showing his face to her—and even if he was, she was probably too out of it to actually recognize him,” Reid said. “Besides that, there are hundreds of new and old faces every day at Quantico. Strauss was a busy woman. She might not’ve remembered him.”

I shook my head. “Let’s say that he does work in the FBI, that explains how he knows about all of our cases with so much detail. He replicates everything, we can’t forget that. So, what the hell is the symbol on her wrist replicating?”

“The Cutter,” Hotch realized. We all looked at him, giving him our full attention. “The last case we worked before this weekend.”

We had been in Detroit for nine days, tracking down an Unsub who liked leaving Joker-like smiles on his victims’ faces by cutting them up. Sometimes he got fancy with it, taking their tongues, cutting a toe or a finger off, but he always cut the mouths. There was nothing about carving symbols into the victims. No eights, infinities, whatever. So, why did Hotch think that this had anything to do with that?

“I need to see her computer.” Hotch turned to snap at someone outside the room. “Anderson, I need you to run to Strauss’s office and bring me her computer, please. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson did as he was told, literally racing to the office just past the bullpen, though the door, down the hallway, and to the right. We waited patiently for him to come back. “Here you go,” he said, panting, handing the laptop over.

“Thanks, Anderson.”

“No problem, sir.” He took his leave from the room again.

Hotch passed the computer over to Garcia, who was sitting down and wiggling her fingers to warm up before she would start typing up a storm in order to hack in. Hotch watch from over her shoulder. “I need you to access who was on the distribution list for my case report for The Cutter.”

“You don’t know who reads your reports?” she questioned, already typing.

“I know that she sends them to the head of the Criminal Division and the Director, but I don’t know who else has access to it.”

“It’s right here.”

Hotch leaned in further to read because the words were too small for him. I was going to have to drag him to the eye doctor soon. Just because I always joked that he was getting old didn’t mean that I didn’t actually worry about him; and something that I had been noticing recently was that he was struggling to read things as well as he used to. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he needed reading glasses now. Not that he would ever wear them. Aaron Hotchner would rather die than ever admit that he wasn’t physically fit to be in the field or to work on reports when we were at home.

“She amended my report,” he said. We all grew curious. “She wrote that he carved infinity symbols into his victims’ wrists.” He stood up tall to address us, “She trapped him to make sure that we would know that he was an insider. Garcia, who else read this?”

“Two other people so far. The Director and— Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? Again?” I scratched my fingers through my hair, really annoyed with how she wasn’t just spitting it out. The other day, she pulled the same shit. Uh oh. I loved her to death, but sometimes she needed to just say it rather than dragging it out.

“You remember the Senator that investigated the BAU after Doyle?

Okay. That was an uh oh. Fuck.

“I’ll talk to him. You all need to stay here, stay together, don’t talk about this outside of this room. No one else can know about this.” Hotch hurried out of the room and B-lined straight for his office to grab one of his suits from his go-bag in his office. I followed him. “Hey, Jess, I need to change real quick,” he said as we walked in. “Can you give us a sec?”

“Of course.” She immediately stood and went to stand outside the office.

I closed the blinds while he quietly picked up his bag, carefully pulled at the zipper, cringing at how loud it was, and pulled his clothes out, all without waking up the kids. It was funny that he thought that they would jolt awake. The two of them were freaking corpses when it came to sleeping. Back when Scarlet was a baby, she was the worst about staying asleep, but now she could sleep all day and all night without a single issue. As for Jack, he struggled to fall asleep sometimes because of his nightmares, but once he was asleep, he was out until morning. They got it from their dad.

“You’ll stay here with them until I get back?” he asked me, peeling off his shirt. I nodded. “Henry’s just down the hall in JJ’s old office with Will. If Jack wakes up soon, he can probably go hang out in there while Jess keeps an eye on Scarlet in here.” He kicked off his pants, then picked up his button up and slid his arms into the sleeves. I helped put it together nicely while he focused on sliding his suit pants on. “I’ll ask Anderson to get everyone donuts from Leonard’s for breakfast. The kids’ll be happy about that.”

“Aaron,” I whispered, fitting his tie around his neck for him, “are you okay after last night?”

“I will be after all of this and once the two of us can sit down and talk about it.”

I flattened his collar around the tie, then stepped back so that he could put his suit jacket on. At least he wanted to talk about it. He wasn’t going to keep it bottled up this time and have me wondering if he was really alright or if he was just lying to me again. I was really fucking sick and tired of him lying to me. I mean, he had been really good about it since the Piano Man case over a year and a half ago.

He kissed me as he holstered his weapon and clipped his badge onto his jacket. “I love you. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I love you.” I cupped my hands on his cheeks before kissing him. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” We pressed our foreheads together, both of us letting out a relaxed exhale. “Come back to me.”

“I’m just going—”

“Promise me.”

Hotch snaked his arms around my waist, pulling me as close to his chest as humanly possible, our foreheads still pressed together as he towered over me. His fingers sprawled on my back. “I promise.” He rubbed his hands smoothly up and down my back for a bit. “And I promise that we’re going to talk about Strauss, about the pictures, about having another weekend where we can do things the right way.” His hands turned to fists around the fabric of my shirt. “I promise that I’m not going to let this guy take away anything else from us.”

We kissed again, our lips barely meeting because if it was anything more than that, we would have passionately, desperately kissed one another until we were breathless and forgot about the world around us, which wasn’t ideal. We needed to stay focused. Hotch needed to find the Senator, talk to him about still keeping an eye on our unit, even after they cleared us after Doyle, and then we needed to find out who the hell The Replicator was. We could forget about life later.

“I love you, Y/N Hotchner, more than life itself.”

I melted in his arms a bit, grabbing onto his suit jacket to maintain my balance. “When you say shit like that, I don’t know what to do with myself.” We both chuckled quietly. Jack suddenly stared snoring on the couch, making us both laugh again. “He’s so like you, it’s stupid.” Hotch’s smile faded, but he tried to mask it by kissing my cheek, then hiding his face in the crook of my neck. “Go save the world, Agent Hotchner.” I begged, prying him off of me before we could stay glued like that for the rest of our lives. I combed my fingers through his hair to make sure he looked nice for the Senator. “We’ll be here.”

Hotch’s hands left my back, making me ache silently for his touch again, which he somehow recognized, because he immediately held my hand in his as he started walking around me and stepped towards the door. I didn’t move. Our arms continued to stretch towards each other, fingers intertwining in an attempt to stay with each other for a little longer, but once he was out of reach, there was nothing we could do. He opened the door, turned to look at the kids once more, then left. I sighed and slumped into a chair.

Jessica carefully peeked in, wondering if it was safe to return. When she saw me sitting there, flustered and silent, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. I half expected that she would return to Hotch’s seat. It was, after all, the most comfortable seat in the room, and I knew it, considering it was my desk for a little while. But Jessica sat down next to me and took my hand in hers without saying anything. Nothing needed to be said. We just stayed there, watching the kids as they slept, waiting for Hotch to come back with answers.

----

Around the time Hotch returned, Rossi was walking in, too. We all spotted him, but no one said anything to him or approached him. We all just decided to meet in the boardroom while waiting for Hotch to get his things organized and make an attempt to talk to Rossi, which he was immediately denied. He looked to the boardroom, begging one of us to try again, but we all stared at each other, asking ourselves who dared to do it.

“I’m gonna go check on Rossi.” Morgan said to the group. We all nodded understandingly.

When he left, Hotch traded places with him, coming into the roundtable room with a stack of papers. “This is everyone who has read my reports over the past two years.” He dropped the heavy stack on the table. “There’s thirty-six people.” My jaw fell. We were going to have to profile thirty-six different people on a time crunch, which was near to impossible, even with all six of us, plus Garcia, working on it. That was still about six people per team member. How the fuck were we supposed to profile all that?

“Woah! Rossi! What’re you doing, man?! Put the gun down!” Morgan shouted.

My brows furrowed for a second as I stepped closer to the windows of the room to look across the bullpen and into Rossi’s office. There was Morgan, standing in the doorway, and in front of him, Rossi was pointing a gun at him. I dropped my papers and ran. When I was close enough, I slowed down to be casual. I didn’t want to spook him.

“Dave,” I croaked, stepping into his office. My hands were sprawled out in front of me, ready to swing for the gun if he moved for the trigger. “What’s this about?”

“Morgan’s fingerprints were on the glass that killed Strauss,” he answered.

“What?” Morgan questioned, scoffing.

I took another careful step forward in front of Morgan. There was no way he was going to shoot me. “Dave, someone on the inside is The Replicator, they’re probably the one who told you that—”

“It was in her report that was on my desk!” he yelled. The gun was shaking in his hands as his nose started to bleed the same way Strauss’s had been. He had been drugged, too.

I looked over at the page on the ground that was supposedly the official report he had just been reading. “You’ve been drugged, Rossi.” I was still walking towards him, despite Morgan’s quiet protests behind me. “He wants us to turn on each other. If you pull that trigger right now, you shoot me, you lose Hotch, you lose Reid, you lose Morgan, and you lose JJ. Is that what you want? Do you want him to win after everything? After Strauss?” I was close enough to reach for the gun. “Don’t shoot me. Just let me… Let me help you…” I started slowly going for it. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you help, and you’re going to be just fine.” I had a grip on the gun, and I managed to finally pry it away from him.

Morgan let out a heavy sigh of relief behind me. “I’ll call the paramedics.”

Hotch finally came rushing in, now that the coast was clear and the tension had been diffused. If he had come in any sooner, Rossi might have been spooked and shot me, even if he didn’t want to, but just because of how the drugs fucked with him. He immediately came over to check on Rossi. We helped him onto the couch in his office, and Hotch didn’t hesitate to ask if Rossi had taken anything, drank anything, bumped into anyone. All he told us was that he had picked up Strauss’s report, and that was when he started feeling like shit.

“That was stupid of you,” Hotch whispered to me while slapping Rossi’s cheeks to keep him awake. “The kids are in the next room, how could you—”

“The kids!” I pushed myself up to my feet using Hotch’s shoulder and ran straight to his office. If Rossi had been poisoned through the paper, that meant that the Unsub must have dropped it off, or else security would have caught it. The Unsub was in his office. He walked right past our family. He could have done something to them. “Scarlet—” I turned into the room to see her and Jack watching a movie together on a tablet. I stopped in my tracks for a second as they looked up at me with raised brows. “Did anyone come in here?” I asked Jessica. She shook her head, eyeing me suspiciously.

He didn’t go for them. He said something to Hotch on the phone last night about how he was going to race us home, and Hotch was worried about the kids, which was why we brought them to the office, thinking that they would be safe, but the Unsub had them right there, and he went right past them, and he didn’t—

“Mom?” Jack questioned me. “Are you okay?’

I nodded and faked a smile. “Of course, little man. I was just checking on you guys…” I cleared my throat. “Did you, um… Did you get a donut yet?”

“He had two,” Jessica answered.

“And what about you, Scarlet?”

“I had two, too!” She laughed at herself. “Tutu.”

I smiled casually at them before turning and hurrying right back out of the office, letting out a shaky breath. The office was supposed to be safe. What if Scarlet or Jack had run into the Unsub? What if they had touched the paper Rossi touched just because they wanted to see what the superheroes were up to? I let out another breath, this time trying to calm my nerves as I saw the medics run into Rossi’s and start caring for him.

“We found something,” Reid said quietly, sneaking up on me, even though he hadn’t meant to.

I looked at him suddenly. “What?” I really hadn’t heard him. I had been so lost in thought that I knew he said something important, but I really couldn’t register what it was. “I’m sorry.”

“We found something.”

“Something good?”

“We found the Unsub.”

“Is he still here?” I asked eagerly, already walking with him along the balcony towards the boardroom again. He shook his head. “What do we know?” I asked everyone else when we entered.

“Is Rossi okay?” Garcia asked before she felt like answering me. I nodded to her while taking a seat, now waiting for her to tell me something. She caught the hint. “So, instead of profiling all thirty-six people who had read Hotch’s reports, we instead chose to connect anyone to New York since we noted that might be important to him if he chose to kill Strauss there.” Okay, so… “There were two agents at Quantico. One died last March, but the other… John Curtis… He worked under Strauss during the Amerithrax case in 2001 since he specialized with biochemistry. It seems like he was really hoping to move through the ranks at Quantico, according to letters he wrote to the Director after he was unfortunately demoted to go work in Kansas City.”

“How’d he make his way here, then?”

“After fifteen letters to the Director’s office, he was finally promoted to work in his office.”

That explained how his clearance was high enough for him to get into the building and into the BAU specifically without being detected. If we were to take the cars downstairs, he probably would’ve been prepared that something would go awry with them to prevent us from chasing him down this time around, so it was agreed that we were going to take the helicopters up on the roof. They were faster, more convenient, and unexpected. Curtis probably had no idea that the BAU even had access to the helicopters. They were our best bet. So, we all geared up and started running upstairs, assigning seats in the two vehicles. Hotch, JJ, and I were going to be in the first one, meanwhile Morgan and Reid would be in the other.

As we were flying through the air, speeding towards Curtis’s farmhouse out in rural Virginia, Garcia was in contact with Hotch, Morgan, and SWAT, discussing the layout of the farm so that we could perform a tactical breech with minimal losses. JJ and I were sitting together in the back, though, just staring out our respective windows. I was counting the minutes until we would land. Even after all this time, I still fucking hated flying, but at least when we were on the jet, that was familiar, so I could feel safe there, but now we were in a helicopter, which was unchartered territory for me, and I was terrified. The height wasn’t the problem… It was the fact that we could crash at any minute, and that would be it. Our fate was practically out of our hands.

It was like karma could hear me, because the next thing I knew, alarms were going off in front of the pilot, and we were dropping in the air. I cursed under my breath and held on for dear life. Through the headsets we were wearing, I could hear the pilot saying something about how auto-pilot was failing, and that something was preventing him from turning it back on. I squeezed my eyes shut as we kept falling. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hated flying, and this was exactly why.

“Brace for impact!”

And then we hit the ground.

I weakly opened my eyes, blinking harshly to try and wash away the fog while also trying to adjust to the darkness. We didn’t die.

“Are you guys alright?!” Morgan asked as he pried Hotch’s door open.

Hotch fell sideways out of his seat in the helicopter, crashing to his knees before Morgan could catch him. I groaned, holding my head, trying to make the spinning stop. My fucking back hurt like a bitch, too—not as bad as when I first injured it at the bank during The Face Cards’ bombing, but certainly getting there. I whimpered when it hurt to move.

“Y/N…” Hotch groaned, carefully crawling his way over with Morgan’s help. “Y/N…” He reached around and unbuckled me from my seat. I coughed; my lungs too weak to maintain a normal breathing pattern. “Baby…”

I weakly wrapped my arms around his neck and attempted to pull him close. “Are you okay?” I opened my eyes as the world stopped spinning. Hotch nodded. “Where’s JJ?”

“I don’t know.” We stumbled onto the grass together. “Are you alright?”

I rested my forehead against his shoulder. “My back…” I croaked.

“It’s hurting again?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“You said that last time—”

“But I mean it now. Why didn’t he kill us?”

“What?”

I cleared my throat and stood up straight, trying to shake off the ache in my back. “Why didn’t he kill us? I felt it at the end, something controlled the helicopter enough to have us land somewhat carefully, but then he took JJ… Why?”

“To give himself a bargaining chip?”

“Maybe…”

“Hey—” Reid called, running over to us. Just as I looked at him, he crashed into my arms, pulling me in for a hug. I ignored how it hurt my back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He took JJ.”

“What?” He pulled away so that he could go check the helicopter for himself. Just as he was inspecting it, a few black SUVs pulled up to take us the rest of the way. Maybe we should have just started with that.

Hotch helped me to the car, Morgan and Reid following close behind. Usually, Hotch would have sat in the front, leaving me in the back, but this time around, he sat with me, squeezing my hand as tightly as he could. I think that we had been through too much over the past few days. It was finally taking its toll. What we thought was going to be a normal getaway turned into working two cases—one where Hotch had to deal with his brother, then he had to deal with a thousand personal things. Pornographic photos, Strauss, Foyet being mentioned, the kids, meeting with the Senator—There were a thousand more things I could have possibly listed, but nearly dying in a helicopter crash… yeah, that was the cherry on top. He had been in the front seat with the pilot. I was in the back with JJ. When we were going down, I wanted nothing more than to hold him again, to look into his eyes, but I couldn’t because I was just behind him. Then, The Replicator could have taken me, but he didn’t. Hotch had risked too many things by not sitting in the back with me, but he wasn’t going to risk that now, the same way I wasn’t going to let him risk it either.

When we arrived at the house, SWAT was there, waiting on us, and for the call that Hotch wanted to make. Without hesitating, he said that we should breach the farmhouse up ahead. So, SWAT led the way, the team following close behind. We started by surrounding the entire thing. When everyone was in place, Hotch gave his mark on the comms, and then we all stormed in with our weapons raised. My back hurt like a bitch as I navigated my way through every room with Morgan, but I put on a brave face and tried to focus on just not getting shot or something. That was probably worse than hurting my back.

When we found nothing on the main or upper floor, Morgan and I moved towards the basement door. He grabbed the handle and I nodded, gesturing for him to go. We hurried down the steps. The basement was a red room for photography so that he could print out whatever pictures he took of us. Morgan and I spotted all of the photos of me and Hotch in bed because they were hanging up on a line to dry. Morgan quickly looked away out of respect.

“Anything?” Hotch asked in a whisper, scaring the shit out of me and Morgan since we weren’t expecting him to be there. When we caught our breaths, we shook our heads. “There’s another room over there.” He pointed with his flashlight.

Hotch led the way, Reid and I shoulder to shoulder, Morgan following behind us. The door was open, so Hotch lunged into the room, hoping to get a jump on Curtis if he happened to be around the corner, but he wasn’t. When we were all inside, we saw JJ sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, chained to it, her mouth gagged with a cloth napkin, of all things. Reid quickly holstered his weapon and hurried to help her.

“Morgan, we should go find him,” Hotch said. “Y/N and Reid can handle this.”

I knelt down on the ground beside Reid to help him get JJ free as the boys ran back out of the room. I peeled the napkin out of JJ’s mouth. “You okay?”

“He said that there’s eight locks because there used to be eight of us before he killed Strauss,” she said urgently.

“That’s all he said?”

She nodded.

Reid picked up a carabiner of keys laying on the ground next to the pile of locks. He sifted through them, only counting six, but each of them had a letter taped on. I inspected the locks themselves, spotting that they had numbers on them. Somehow, the letter and the numbers correlated.

“What are the letters?” I asked.

“G,” he began. That was the seventh letter in the alphabet. “A.” That was the first. “N.” That was fourteenth. “Z— Zugzwang.”

I froze and looked at him. Zugzwang? As in what Diane said to him over the phone when she first took Maeve? How would Curtis know that—Why would he use that? I mean, Zugzwang itself meant the point in the game when the player(s) had to decide if they wanted to forfeit or play until the bitter end, so in the context of the keys and the locks, what did that mean for JJ?

“It’s too easy,” I muttered under my breath, but he was already going for it.

Hotch and Morgan were already running back in, which meant that they probably hadn’t found Curtis. Great. So, now we were playing a risky game that had an uncertain end, and our Unsub likely got away. Well, fuck.

“The whole place is lined with C-4,” Morgan warned us. They were watching as Reid kept unlocking JJ’s chains. “We have about three minutes.”

“We’ll be gone by then,” Reid insisted. Unless this really was too easy, I suspected it was.

Then, it dawned on me. Reid the other week, when Scarlet and I were at his house, was trying to teach her some of the “basics” of chess, which in his mind was everything from how to move the pieces to how to win in less than three moves. He forgot sometimes that she was only two. She was smart, but she wasn’t as smart as he was, though he sometimes wished that were the case. But there was something he said about Zugzwang. The best thing to do in that situation was to do nothing at all. To not forfeit, to not play, but to just… wait.

“Don’t move—” I tried warning JJ, but the second the chains were off her hands, she stood up.

Suddenly, we could all see the pressure plate that she had been sitting on the whole time. Everyone’s eyes widened as we froze, waiting to see if something would happen, like the bomb potentially going off randomly. Nothing happened for a second. We all relaxed, but it came too early, because the door suddenly closed behind us.

Our three minutes were running out.

With our exit blocked, we called Garcia quickly, hoping that she would be able to do something about the bomb’s detonation, or perhaps getting the door open, if she could. I didn’t have high hopes. I was just staring at Hotch as he desperately tried to get the door open. After Haley, we promised the kids—well, technically just Jack—that nothing bad would ever happen to both Mom and Dad while we were off saving the world. Ever. I genuinely thought that if something happened, it would have been one of us going home, having to explain to the kids why Mom or Dad wasn’t coming back, holding the kids as they cried. Hotch and I were prepared for that. But I never in a million years thought that our kids would have to grow up as orphans. Yet, while watching Hotch desperately pry and scrape at the door, I couldn’t help but think that Jack was going to have to live with knowing that three of his parents dies because of the BAU, and that Scarlet was going to have to grow up without Mom, Dad, Curls, and Uncle Morgan.

Emily was going to have to come back. Because she was Scarlet’s godmother, she would have to leave London to handle the will, the house, everything with Jessica. From there, the two of them would have to decide who was going to take the kids and where they were going to be raised. Would Emily take them to England? She had a steady job there with enough income for a thousand kids, but did she have a place for them in her life? Not really. Would she still fight like hell to raise them, anyhow? Of course. As for Jessica, she had a job, but not one with enough income to support two kids on her own. Her place was big enough for them, and it was already in our neighborhood, so she could make sure the kids still went to their schools where they had friends.

Not that my opinion mattered in any of this. The door was barely budging, and Garcia had managed to severe the tie between the phone Curtis had and the bombs he planted; but if we didn’t get the door all the way open soon, none of it was going to matter. My kids were going to grow up forgetting their parents’ faces.

“What the hell are you guys doing in there?!” Rossi exclaimed on the other side of the door. He must have pressed something outside, because it suddenly opened, giving us freedom. “Ever heard of traps before?”

“We have to go,” Hotch ordered, ignoring Rossi’s wit. He must’ve still been high from whatever the hospital gave him.

When we ran outside, ducking behind the SUVs for cover, I looked around for a headcount, realizing that we were one short. Hotch, Morgan, Reid, JJ, they were all there… “Rossi!” I shouted.

He was right behind us, I thought, while we were running out of the house. Where the fuck did he go? It wasn’t like he could get lost, considering all of the sirens and lights that were coming from the road we were on. We were like a beacon screaming: “HEY, WE’RE OVER HERE, IDIOT?!” So, where the fuck was he?

“We have to go back in.” I stepped around the car and took a step that was meant to lead into a sprint, but Hotch caught me, holding me back the same way Morgan had when JJ found out that Will was going into The Face Cards’ bank. “Aaron, stop!” I hit at his hands to make him let go, but he didn’t budge. I didn’t understand. Rossi was his best friend the same way Morgan was mine; why wasn’t he doing anything? “We have to get him!”

“Look, he’s right there,” Hotch said calmly, risking letting go of me with one arm so that he could point at the house. Rossi was crawling out of the storm cellar that connected to the basement we were in. He stumbled for a moment, trying to get to his feet, and then he started running like hell towards us. “He’s fine.”

As if the timing couldn’t’ve been any more perfect, the place blew just when Rossi was far enough that it wouldn’t hurt him. We all ducked while flinching. Glass shattered, wooden beams flew in different directions, and part of the house collapsed in on itself. I did my headcount again. Hotch had me in his arms, Morgan was at my side, Reid was checking on JJ, and Rossi was now casually walking over to us. We had everyone. We were okay. So, I relaxed in Hotch’s arms, letting my head fall back against his chest. What a shitty fucking fucking weekend.

[theunquenchablethirst]

Home Pt1: The Orphanage (Jeremiah X Reader)

First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️

Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse

Find Pt.2 here

Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.

Masterlist

Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.

They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.

I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.

Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.

I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.

I still hate that I never got the chance.

My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.  

“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.

It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.

He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.

“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.

“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.

“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”

“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”

“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.

I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.

“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”  

Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.

I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.  

Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.

Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway.  I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.

“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.

“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.

“I have an exciting announcement.”

Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”

A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.  

“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”

Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.

“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”

Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.  

“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.

“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”

Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.

“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.

“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!”  Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.

“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.  

The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.

“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.

We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.

“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.

“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”  

We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.

“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.

Knock, knock, knock...

“Let the sale commence.”

[aceofwhump]

Hi! First I just wanna say u just found your page & I love it alot! Can u please tell me which h5o episodes have Danny whump? Thanks in advance! ☺️

Aww thanks so much!! Omg yes I can! I love Danny whump so much. These are the episodes with the best/most Danny whump in them:

1x01: Danny is shot in the arm, blasted backwards out a window, and you see him getting it bandaged in an ambulance.

1x04 (and continues through the next couple of episodes): Danny tears his ACL and has to walk with cane

1x08: emotional whump when he finds out his ex HPD partner Meka was murdered

1x23: He’s poisoned by sarin while examining a dead body, and later collapses and is rushed to the hospital, all the while having a very difficult time breathing and convulsions.

2x15: MAJOR EMOTIONAL WHUMP AND ANGST. An old friend of his is murdered violently and then Grace, his daughter, is kidnapped by his ex partner from Jersey whom he put in prison. He threatens her life, he threatens Danny’s life, essentially holds him hostage and forces him to do what he wants. Danny gets held at gunpoint, handcuffed to his steering wheel, forced to shoot Stan (his ex’s husband). Danny is very visibly distraught during the whole thing. Shaky voice, heavy breathing, on the verge of tears, sweating, begs.

2x22: Gets kidnapped, bag put over his head, handcuffed to a chair, told the plane that Steve is on is in danger (reacts the same way as when Grace is kidnapped (2x15) very emotional response. love Scott’s worried acting), slapped once. Escapes with a little help.

3x03: Held at gunpoint, stranded in the ocean on a leaking dinghy with Steve. Visibly shaking after being in the cold water. Panics slightly and you learn Danny has a fear of the ocean/water because when he was a kid he got stuck in a really bad riptide and panics and his best friend swam out to help but got caught in and undertow and died. In a deleted scene, Danny tows the boat (like Steve does) by putting a rope around him and swimming towards land (can be watched here). Coast guard rescues them but then arrests them both. They get put in handcuffs. 

3x06: When the suspect he’s chasing is killed, Danny is forced to stay completely still while the bomb squad is called to disarm the motion-activated bomb. Steve refuses to leave his side and Danny recounts some painful memories to him of how his previous partner (the woman his daughter is named after) was killed after the two of them were captured and beaten up by thugs. Specific whumps include major emotional whump, fear, grief, remembrance of September 11, 2001 (danny was in New York City at the time), hit in the head with the butt of a gun, tied to a chair, beaten up (punched many, many times, once so hard he falls over in his chair), hair grab and used to manhandle him, punched in both the face and the gut, defiant, sassy in the face of danger, threatened with having his hand chopped off as well as being shot, watches his partner get shot and die and is unable to do anything about it, forced to stand completely still otherwise a bomb will go off and kill him. 

3x10: Danny is shot in the arm while on a camping trip with Steve and a group of girl scouts, one of which is Grace. The scout leader takes the bullet out of his arm while they, and the whole group of girl scouts, are trapped inside of a supply container. So no anesthetic or numbing agent. The scout leader is a trauma nurse so she knows what she’s doing. There’s a great wince when he moves his arm after she takes the bullet out.

4x06: learn about Danny’s claustrophobia. He won’t go in the cave so Steve goes alone. Later on he hesitates before following Steve and Chin down a very narrow passage.

4x19: Danny is knocked unconscious, his leg is trapped under a large piece of cement, he breaks a rib or two, battles his claustrophobia, and a piece of rebar is imbedded in his stomach when the parking garage the team is investigating collapses from an explosion. Steve frees his leg, coaches him through his panic, removes the rebar and splashes bleach over the wound to clean it before packing it with torn pieces of fabric and duct taping it together. Danny groans, bites his tack vest to stop himself from screaming and shows great pain face. Lots of wincing and groaning and putting a hand to his wound

5x04: major emotional whump. Danny's brother is killed 

5x16: He’s stabbed in the stomach after a fight with his girlfriend’s jealous (controlling) ex-husband, and is taken to the hospital.

5x18: After murdering the man who killed his brother (5x04), Danny is arrested and taken to a Colombian prison where he’s beaten up and kicked around by the inmates (and guards) before Steve and the team manage to rescue him.

6x05: hurts knee in tough mudder competition 

6x18: shot in the arm, makeshift bandage put around it, later has a nicely bandaged arm in a sling

7x08: not exactly whump but this episode is when he’s chaperoning Grace’s formal and it gets attacked by terrorists and he’s held hostage and tries to protect everyone.

8x09: poisoned, gets weak and sick, pale, sweaty, laying under a blanket while Steve tries to take care of him, unconscious

8x10: GREAT WHUMP! Danno gets shot by an unknown gunman while the team is in quarantine due to the previous episode. Gunman puts a bomb on the door so they’re trapped inside and Danny is bleeding out. Pain, blood, collapsed lung, difficulty breathing, delirium, Steve uses makeshift oxygen mask and forced to perform surgery on him, a tension pneumothorax, carried bridal style by Junior, actually medical surgery, hospital room scene.

8x11: Danny still recovering from his injury in the previous episode

9x12: Major emotional angst when Grace is in a very serious car accident

10x14: Is in a bad car accident with a woman he just met and she’s severely injured and he’s covered in blood and it’s very angsty and good

10x22: Honestly one of the best Danny whump episodes. He’s kidnapped, held in chains suspended from the ceiling, beaten, shot, bleeds out, is barely rescued by Steve, taken to the hospital and almost dies. 

[cattles-bians]

exes au part 11

post directory

obsetress: i'm about to fully fall asleep but i have been thinking about exes au danvi and like the isabel of it all and dani dating a single mom and how just like

obsetress: vi is so protective of isabel and as much as she loves dani like

obsetress: she took SO LONG before introducing her and then like

obsetress: when they broke up dani left and dani wasnt in isabels life anymore and dani was so good for isabel and viola just feels so fuckin shitty and blames herself and

obsetress: but i'm also thinkin bout soft fluffy stuff too like how much dani loves isabel and how much vi loves watching isabel w dani and

em: hey hannah what the fuck

obsetress: isabel has a nightmare one night and goes to her mom's room and dani's there too and she just curls up between them

em: do you think when they finally reconnected dani was like hey um. does isabel remember me. would it be weird if

obsetress: FUCK

obsetress: this absolutely happens

em: viola is VERY apprehensive at first

obsetress: god yeah esp after getting so hurt by it but

obsetress: viola sure cannot say no to dani!

em: i love some dani with kids tho

em: maybe too soft but do u think for at least a couple years dani would like. send isabel a bday card

em: like dead air otherwise

em: hmm idk i am chewing that one over more

obsetress: god it's hard i think dani wants to but she doesn't

obsetress: i could see dani writing them and holding onto them

em: oh that’s even worse

obsetress: even tho she really doesnt think she'll ever talk to vi again

em: what a soft and depressing thought. thank u. i resent u.

obsetress: yeah it hurts!

obsetress: but then she does! and she gives them all to isabel when she's older maybe

em: hold on i’m gonna bawl

em: sometimes my parents will be like um. do u remember this person and i’m like uh i don’t remember people i worked w two years ago let alone

em: but i think isabel does

em: i will be thinking about this all afternoon bestie have a wonderful slumber

[em note: em yells in hannahs DMs while she's asleep dot png]

em: no um. mate im still furious about the isabel of it all wtf

em: thinking about um. like ok i dont wanna use isabel as a prop but this is certainly one of those times where

em: violas been hurt before and viola's hurt other people before because she's deeply troubled and i feel like that would be one of the first times she sorta. sure she licks her wounds and feels miserable for herself but its also like uh

em: really sobering to realise This Hurts Isabel Too

em: because yknow violas very gatekeep gaslight girlboss i think shes got a strong enough sense of self that nothing really shakes that. maybe even to a deluded degree. i dont think she goes to therapy because shes like wow im fucked up i gotta get help, she's more like

em: shes really driven by her love for isabel!! gestures WILDLY

em: realised this is an au where parents get therapy and dont pass their traumas onto their kids and i want OFF this WILD RIDE im so tired of discovering things about myself through the realm of fiction

obsetress: yeah same i kept thinking about it too alfkadlsfkjdasf

obsetress: i want to reply to every single line of the isabel thing but i'm not gonna do that so let me just say: YEAH

obsetress: like isabel is her cornerstone full stop everything comes down to isabel

em: dani's probably so nervous reconnecting w isabel again. absolutely spinning her lil wheels

em: they set up a lil date and time and dani's doing her gay nervous babble abt if isabel even remembers her or god forbid resents her n jamies like...

em: im pursing my lips as i draw a line on the whiteboard between jamie's whole childhood and isabels and shaking my head Goddamn It

em: jamie lets dani babble it out n pauses and reflects on what she's saying n then jamie's like. the fact ur nervous means u care. n kids are v good at picking up when ppl care. you'll be alright.

obsetress: god yeah this bit i can just. hear it

obsetress: it's so visceral

---

em: viola

obsetress: god my favorite taurus hedonist

[em note: hannah yells in em's DMs while em is asleep dot png]

obsetress: god fuck what was i thinking about isabel this morning like

obsetress: that's what i get for daydreamin between snoozes and not writing it down alas

obsetress: but just like how excited isabel is to see dani again when she does and also like, isabel and rebecca

obsetress: then i started thinking about

obsetress: rebecca and vi getting married and vi's always like i'm not gonna get married again it's bullshit and rebecca's like it's not for me but then they just

obsetress: like they live together and they share everything and rebecca looks out for isabel just as much and they get to a point and it's like

obsetress: oh. oh

obsetress: like they're both like it's the logical thing to do. it's logical and it's safe and we should have this extra layer of protection but also it's like

obsetress: they find themselves more and more excited a lil you know? and just thinking about how isabel's there and how excited isabel is and

obsetress: but god yeah what i was thinking about this morning like. one day vi has to tell isabel dani's not gonna be coming around anymore and like

obsetress: isabel doesn't really understand and she's so sad and then vi feels even shittier

obsetress: and she's like "we'll be okay. it's you and me, remember? moving mountains"

obsetress: "you me us, right?"

obsetress: the first time rebecca meets her she brings her a book as a gift and is like "this was one of my favorites" and

obsetress: OH I REMEMBERED

obsetress: so like when dani sees isabel again finally (and yknow as nervous as dani was vi was even more on edge because it's so inconsistent and is she gonna understand yknow? and the two of them just spiral––which is also another thing about the two of them in a relationship! i think they push each other down spirals)

obsetress: jamie's there too and dani's like "this is... this is, uh, jamie" and it's like you said jamie isabel parallels and so jamie's like a lil tender

obsetress: spoiler: isabel and jamie end up bonding the most

obsetress: jamie's like running around with isabel on her shoulders and then showing her all these plants and taking her to gardens and

obsetress: another tentative jamie vi alliance

em: isabel mikey hangout When

obsetress: isabel mikey hangout!

obsetress: they're hanging with isabel and she and jamie have a very spirited discussion where isabel's like "i wanna be a princess" and dani's like "why not a knight?" and jamie's like "why not opt out of the feudalistic hierarchy entirely and ditch the kingdom for the high seas?" and convinces isabel to go full pirate

obsetress: and then isabel kinda passes out with her head in jamie's lap and jamie's just kinda idly playing with her hair (vi is already like "am i... attracted to jamie in this moment?")

obsetress: and jamie's like "y'know, i should bring mikey round next time isabel's here" and viola's like "......who?" and jamie's like "my little brother? mikey?" and viola's like "right.... right"

obsetress: cut to later, when dani and jamie have retired to vi and becca's guest room: "since when does jamie have a little brother?" "she always has, babe"

em: kinda obsessed w like. violas love for isabel means her wires get crossed when the surly gardener is Good With Kids

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: mikey and isabel immediately hit it off i think

obsetress: a bit of an odd couple because i think isabel is definitely, like, her mother's daughter and mikey is............. mikey

obsetress: but i think they meet in the middle and help each other grow and play pirates together

em: viola is like. of course mikey and isabel will get along. isabel is wonderful. but jamie is quietly Sweating about the whole thing

em: so damvibecca are having their afternoon tea and their little cakes and jamie is Quietly sweating and she’s like ‘quiet is good, right? like they’re not tryna k-‘ and then there’s the sound of two 8 year olds (idk how old they are tbh) YELLING as they chase each other down the hall w wrapping paper tubes

obsetress: nervous babbling dani x quietly sweating jamie, an otp

em: isabel has gotten into the make up n given them both black eyes n scars and moustaches n everyone’s like oh no how’s viola gonna feel about this but viola is DELIGHTED

obsetress: dani's like "chill you all she's gonna––" and then viola is getting up and asking them to do her face too

em: made a parrot outta a sock and newspaper

obsetress: viola playing pirates w isabel and mikey

em: kids w their endless creativity n absolute disregard for personal property is truly a thing of dreams

obsetress: mikey gives her a paper tube and she disarms isabel, takes hers, and offers it very seriously to jamie

em: cuteeee

obsetress: rebecca's giving dani a look and dani is completely unfazed and reaching for another tea cake

em: absolutely unflappable dani clayton

em: dani and rebecca sharing a Look like hey have you ever seen her this gleeful

obsetress: there is something very tasty about jamie taylor having a direct hand in making viola so gleeful

em: takes a village!

obsetress: when viola's two big loves are sitting five feet away from them both

em: everyone changes everyone for the better

em: fucken soft ass chat over here

obsetress: everyone changes everyone for the better

obsetress: soft as hell

em: thesis statement everyone likes each other so much (jamie pretends she doesn’t)

obsetress: (jamie pretends she doesn't) (jamie might like everyone the most)

obsetress: viola registers mikey for isabel's school n pays full tuition

em: oh my god

obsetress: jamie is horrified and refuses to accept it and viola waves a hand and is like "too late, deposit's non-refundable"

em: (they carpool)

obsetress: PLEASE

obsetress: oh god and like

obsetress: flora and miles go there too

obsetress: full circle complete

em: broke: highschool au woke: guardians of primary schoolers au

obsetress: dani jamie in bed jamie's like "you don't...... think it's weird?" "hmm?" "mikey going to.... school with our boss' kids?" "why would that be weird" "i dunno" "he also goes to school with my ex's kid" "he's best friends with your ex's kid" "and that's not weird, is it?" (grumbles) "not anymore" "so why would this be?"

em: jamie’s ribbing mikey for his silly tie and straw hat but she teaches him how to tie a tie and also she keeps crying for some reason???

obsetress: oh fuck

em: mikey: can’t i just get a fake tie >:/

jamie: no because when u have a real tie you can leave it untied a little as an act of rebellion

obsetress: god it's jamie crying for me

em: i love that big baby

obsetress: so much!

em: jamies like idk what’s gotten into me i never cry n danis like. raises one eye brow and mentally checks off all the times jamie has absolutely bawled watching a movie

em: not even a sad movie

em: dani plays along

em: maybe ur getting soft in ur old age jamie

obsetress: jamie i cry three four times a day five if i'm being honest taylor

em: thinking about their weekly weekend lunch w damvibecca and hannah and owen and miles and flora and

obsetress: dfjsldkfjslfslfj

obsetress: god big found family

obsetress: you know viola doesn't like

obsetress: dani and jamie respectfully toe around whatever the fuck owen and hannah have going on but viola just does not suffer it. she's so blunt to them

em: big viola grin and all ‘owen, hannah, i assume you will be each other’s dates?’ (owen chokes on his tiny egg sandwich)

em: hannah grose is serene and unreadable as she dabs a bit off yolk off owens moustache

em: maybe even a bit pleased

obsetress: everyone is always so tense when viola and hannah get together because neither of them take shit yknow

obsetress: and everyone's like "which way is this gonna go"

em: god. peak snarky broads

obsetress: but usually they end up good. two apex predators where one is a lil vicious but the other is so confident in its status that it just chills

em: they have the Best gossip

obsetress: would love to sit in and listen as they drink tea and gossip tbh

em: viola presses owen on hannah and he goes red and viola presses hannah on owen and she does a little wouldnt-you-like-to-know into her tea

em: viola nee willoughby and hannah grose friendship is. truly something i never knew i needed until now

em: they’re both just that lil bit older than the rest of the gang too

obsetress: an important coalition

obsetress: hannah grose! hannah looking out for rebecca and that's the couple times she gets a lil testy w vi

obsetress: mikey and isabel besties but flora and mikey get along really well and isabel and miles do too i think

em: the sheer chaos of a taylor-lloyd-windgrave story time

obsetress: LDKFjKLSDJF HELP

obsetress: taylor lloyd wingrave story time

obsetress: jamie suddenly very invested in story time

obsetress: dani's like "i know this is the first time you've actually cared about story time, babe, so let me give you some pointers"

em: i was just in my head thinking fondly about like. jamie is a drop out and plays a lil dumb sometimes for fun but also prolly reads a lot especially to mikey and now i’m like. wait i’m talking to Ms Floras Two Moms herself

em: idk if i had that headcanon before i read she taught me a lesson alright but yknow what! doesn’t matter it’s a beautiful one

obsetress: thank youuuu i love it a lot

obsetress: jamie big reader is generally one of my fave headcanons tbh i'm glad it seems to be widely accepted. can't even explain why it's just nice

em: sometimes i will talk 2 ppl about my passionate drop out jamie taylor belief n then they’re like but she’s smart (it’s only happened a couple times hahsj) and i’m like these aren’t mutually exclusive!! this is my very biased experience but my friends who do manual labor for a living seem to read so much more than my friends who don’t

em: your brain wants to chew over things while the hands are workin i reckon

obsetress: yes yes yes yes yes

obsetress: i think that's also like (sighs heavily)

obsetress: symptomatic of hegemonic perceptions of the working class

em: i love when u sigh heavily it’s always a fun take

obsetress: i think jamie is v clever and reflective and like if there's one thing i've learned getting older it's

obsetress: smart doesn't matter i think the most insightful most thoughtful people are the most reflective ones

obsetress: like none of it fuckin matters just be a nice person

[v-poreons]

kova's backstory is so sad, like I knew it was sad but reading that still :((( anyways more kova lore bc I'm invested

I can talk about the campaign he was in then! :))

I'm so mad Tumblr deleted everything I wrote hold on while I try to fix this

Basically what I said before was so fucking long I simply can't rewrite it in as comprehensive a way i did before so this is gonna be a lot shorter I'm PISSED.

I don't remember everything that happened in the campaign because it was four years ago but the party was me as Kova, Asher (Wood Elf Ranger), Lan (Changeling ((in the form of a High Elf)) Fighter), Mislia (Tiefling Sorcerer), and Savory (Tiefling Monk, we had an inside joke that Kova spells her name Savoury).

We were on a job delivering some stuff from one town to another I believe when we were attacked by some goblins who we beat the absolute shit out of. Lan was checking one of the goblins when she found a ring with an eye symbol engraved on it. She put it on and it latched itself to her finger and shot a beam of light into the woods, presumably for us to follow. We hid our wagon and set up camp in a cave for the night. I don't remember who was on watch but we were ambushed by some Dark Elves who took us to the Underdark to their queen who welcomed us and decided to throw a party in our honor.

We were all varying degrees of intoxicated but Kova, who was nursing his first cup of ale since he hates drinking since it inhibits his reasoning skills and he was a little wary of the whole thing. Lan also was suspicious so the two chatted for a bit and planned to do some investigating together later. When we had been escorted to our rooms we found out that we had been magically locked in so we found a way to bypass the spell and sneaked out with the rest of the party, but we were caught and taken into the throne room where the queen revealed she had led us here for a reason. She activated a big rune on the floor and we all blacked out. Then when we woke up our skin was translucent and you could see our skeletons under our skin because plot twist we were dead and had been sent to the underworld (the reveal slapped so hard david if ur seeing this u popped off so hard)

We ended up having to do like a gladiator type match where Kova and Lan created the legendary knife cube combo (Kova casts cloud of daggers Lan throws enemies into the cube and theyre promptly turned into bad guy soup). We won and were brought before Hades and Persephone (Kova and Savory charmed her because they're both nice :) ) and then we were thrown in prison because Hades had a stick up his ass.

We met Brutus and Milquetoast in jail and decided to do a prison break I'm not sure exactly how it went but it involved the warden and a prison riot and Lan killed the warden and was inexplicably drawn to this dark spooky hallway which supposedly held Thanatos but when she reached the end of the corridor all that was there were empty chains.

We had a sick ass chariot race with Hades and Lan flipped him the bird as we escaped down a big cavernous hole in the ground. We woke up at the bottom and learned if we wanted out we each had to go through trials to judge our characters.

I don't remember the exact order we went in but Mislia's was a fight with their ex wife and ended with them choosing Savory's life over the ex, Savory's took place in her old monastery which she had been banned from, Asher's was a puzzle that ended in a fight with his former friend and leader (who happened to be his player's other character from a different campaign remember this it's important), and Lan's (which was the last trial and also the last session since we unfortunately didn't finish the campaign) took place in her childhood hometown but everyone but her had lost their memories and she had to convince us all to come with her and get our memories back.

Kova's was a quiz show type trial during which we would gain or lose things (body parts, knowledge/memories, items, etc.) The trouble with playing a character who's smarter than you is when ur DM asks you what the components are to an X level Wizard spell (something Kova would probably know but I sure as hell didn't) you end up spinning the bad wheel (a la taz suffering game) and losing Kova's harmonica which was a gift from his dead friends dead daughter. Also it got turned to ash :)

The game show host ended up being Medusa and we killed the hell out of her and Lan and Kova struck the final blows.

I ended up asking the DM what the campaign would have gone like from the last session and he said the twist would have been that Brutus was Thanatos and I don't remember how but he could not longer continue being Thanatos so Lan, who had the ring, would be given the choice to become the new god of death or not.

From there we have two endings:

The 'canon' ending, in which Lan accepts her role and remains in the underworld while the rest of the living party members return to their lives. Kova is alone and lonely returning to his travels but has healed somewhat and learns to accept people into his heart again.

In the ending where Lan refuses, the party returns to the living world and parts ways. Lan and Kova reluctantly separate since Kova wishes to keep traveling and seeing the world but Lan is exhausted by everything that has happened in her life up until this point and just wants to settle down. The two visit from time to time but reminisce on their past and wonder how they could have remained close and developed their relationship (art in the video is drawn by Lan's player lil.bunny.prince on Instagram)

In both endings (and here's where you remember that importance regarding Asher's trial), because the story has established that it takes place in the same world as another campaign, Kova meets

Gwyn, and becomes a father figure to her and essentially adopts her. They're perfect for each other. Gwyn was cast from her clan and disowned by her family, and now she finally has a solid adult figure in her life who loves and accepts her and helps her overcome her fears of rejection and accidentally hurting the people she cares about. Kova has lost so much and with Gwyn he is able to raise her like he would have helped raise Iris and learns to overcome his survivors guilt and both of their scars and trauma heal together I love them so much.

Kova does outlive Gwyn by a couple hundred years (damn dnd lifespans) and whichever direction his life goes his endings are always bittersweet but he is able to heal despite always feeling a little sad and when he gets older he settles in a nice town and owns a library. And obviously his canon storyline isn't sad enough so I have aus for that (villain au my beloved). ❤

[skullrock]

santa monica - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: Season 4 AU where the gang decides to go to Russia to save Hopper. Steve’s worried he will die - he decides to spend his last night as a free man with you. 

word count: 2k

warnings: angst!!!!

a/n: partly inspired by Santa Monica by the Front Bottoms. (lyrics)

===

Steve’s gripping the cord to the payphone, his voice shaking as he asks the operator to connect him to you.

He’s going to Russia with everyone to free Hopper. Or, at least try to free Hopper. Steve’s bets are that everyone is going to be obliterated by tanks and bombs. But Robin says there’s a chance, and Dustin’s hopes are up, and he doesn’t want to bring the mood down. But Steve has this gut feeling that it’s not going to go well.

He’s in a bit of a pickle from this, too. For weeks, he’d been grappling with the fact that he was in love with you. Truly, deeply, madly in love with you. So much that his heart hurt and ached when you weren’t around; his core felt empty; he dreamed of being with you every hour of the day. He never made a move in case his life was in peril again. He didn’t want to involve you in this bullshit, get you hurt, get you in trouble. And it seemed like the freedom from his demons and trauma was so close – now, he’s back into the bullshit, and there’s a chance he won’t get out of it.

The only thing he could think of doing was spending his last certified night as a free, alive man with you.

“Hello?” you answer from the other line. It’s 10 pm and you’re getting ready for bed.

Steve’s eyes squeeze shut, and his fingers wrap around the cord tightly. He lets out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him at the sound of your voice. Your voice felt like home, and it grounded him from the chaos temporarily.

You knew it was Steve from the exhale. “Steve?”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. There’s a thousand words in his head, but the only one that comes out is, “Sleepover?”

You laugh and his heart drops. “Sleepover? Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“You alright, Steve?” You know when Steve is stressed. He confided in you on a very surface level, despite being close. He’d rant, then say he was fine. But the pain in his eyes told you differently.

Steve rests his head on the glass of the payphone, letting out another breath. “I’m okay. I just need some company.”

“You have the best company right here. Come over.”

Steve goes home and packs his bags. One overnight bag, and one for Russia. He’s not very sure why he’s taking his Farrah Fawcett spray to Russia, but it’s comforting to have it. He calls his parents to tell them he’ll be out of town for a week or so. He shuts and locks the door, gets back in his car. He checks himself out a few times before going to your house. His tongue presses against the roof of his mouth to fight back tears.

Steve arrives and you can tell he’s not okay. You usher him in, pulling him into a hug as the door shuts. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut again. A few unsteady breaths leave him before you pull back, searching his eyes for answers.

“Steve.”

Steve looks down at you, eyes red. He lifts a hand to cup your cheek. For a moment, you think this is it – he’s finally going to tell you he loves you. He’s finally going to sweep you off your feet like you always imagined. He’s going to say something dorky and stupid and yet inspiring and intelligent, and you’ll tell him you love him, too.

His eyes are only sad as he looks back, however. He carries the weight of the world on his slumped shoulders. His warm brown eyes aren’t warm; they’re detached and cold. He seems mentally a thousand miles away, and you don’t know what to do to help.

“I just….” He sighs and drops his hand to your shoulder. “Can you hold me?”

Soon you’re both in bed. You lay behind him, an arm tightly wound around his torso. Your eyes scan the beauty marks that stretch down his neck. They fall to his strong shoulders and stay there. You think maybe the back of his head will give you answers to your questions, but all you get is stiffness.

“What would you do if it was your last night alive?” he asks suddenly.

You sit up immediately, but Steve continues laying, his own arms replacing yours. You shake your head incredulously. “Steve, what’s going on?”

“I’m not going to die,” he explains – though it’s pretty unconvincing. “Just – what would you do if you knew it was your last night?”

You stay silent, shocked and unsure. He finally rolls over and you meet his eyes. They’re much softer than they were before, almost relaxed. He reaches out for you, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m okay, Y/N. I just wanna know.”

You relax, propping yourself up on your elbow. Steve does the same, and you’re face to face. Your hands find each other’s again, lacing and squeezing.

“If it was my last night alive,” you whisper, “I’d want to spend it with you.”

Steve blushes and smiles. “You mean that?”

More than you know, you think. Your hand squeezes his again. “Of course I mean it.”

Steve’s mouth feels dry, and he wants to look away, but he can’t. Instead, he whispers, “Can we pretend?”

“Pretend?”

“That just for the night… just tonight, that we’re in love?”

Your heart picks up. An unsure hand goes to his cheek and you frown. “Why just tonight?”

His hand rests over yours as his eyes shoot downwards. He can’t confess his feelings for you and then skip town. Maybe if he lives through all this, he can confess it truly. But tonight, he just wants the illusion. The illusion that his life is normal – that he’s a kid with a future and nothing holding him back. That someone loves him and cares about him, after years of losing every good thing he’s ever had.

After a moment, he says, “I just need to feel it.”

Tears well in your eyes and you close them so he can’t see. He just wants to feel loved for one night, not eternity. It’s heartbreaking for multiple reasons – does he not think he’s worthy of love for more than a couple hours? Does he not want love from you for more than a night? He’s so sad though, and so lost, so you agree. It would be nice to feel loved by him for one night, too.

“I can do that,” you answer.

He leans forward then, kissing you softly. It’s tender, gentle, dizzying. You’d wanted it forever. He pulls you close to him, arms wrapping tight around your waist. Your lips continue to move together. Steve hopes the passion is translating, because he really, really loves you. He wishes he could convince himself that he can tell you tonight. He wants to confess it so quietly that you can hardly hear. He wants to be the one. But he refuses to leave you with a broken heart if something horrific happens. Pretending seems like the best for both of you.

“Steve,” you murmur against his lips. “What’s going on?”

He rests his forehead against yours, thinking carefully. “I have to go on a trip tomorrow is all. And I’m going to miss you.”

“Where are you going?”

He pauses. “Santa Monica.”

“Is something tragic going to happen there?”

He shakes his head and laughs sadly. “Just worried I won’t come back.”

“You will,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “I’ll protect you, all the way from Hawkins.”

Steve wishes so much, so desperately that was true. That you could protect him without being in danger. All he wants is to be protected, held, hushed after nightmares and episodes. He wants your arms around him, telling him it’s okay.

“Wish it worked like that.” It’s all he can say.

“Santa Monica is nice,” you say softly as you rake your fingers through his hair. “You’ll have fun. Don’t be so sad, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t even know what the hell Santa Monica is – it’s just the first thing that came to mind. He figures it’s the exact opposite of a Russian base.

“What’s it like?” he asks quietly.

“There are beaches, and there’s this big pier, and there’s a Ferris wheel. Lots of weed.” You gently tickle his stomach and he laughs. “It’s a nice town for someone our age.”

Steve closes his eyes and imagines being there. Warm sand, warm sun, the cold water tickling his feet. You beside him, drinking some alcohol. At night, the stars shine brightly, illuminating the two of you as you kiss. The image of a superior couple, loving himself and you.

“Maybe I’ll take you there,” he whispers. “When I come back.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s silent for a while, and Steve asks again, “Can you hold me?”

He flips over and you wrap him in your arms again. Steve loves being held, and even if he wasn’t about to die, he’d ask for it. It was customary in your friendship to hold each other – and you truly loved holding Steve. You wanted to protect him from whatever evil he hid from you. You wanted to feel his warm body pressed against you, wake up to his brown hair in the glow of the morning sun. These are interesting circumstances, but you’ll take it, because you love Steve more than you’ve loved anyone in your whole life. It’s what he deserves.

Steve once again laces his fingers through yours and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “If it was my last night on earth, I’d want to be with you, too.”

You squeeze him tighter. Your mouth opens and falls a few times before you say, “I love you, Steve.”

He smiles and pushes back tears. “I love you, Y/N.”

It’s a confession under the guise of pretend.

You both sleep just like that – Steve curled up against your back like a child as you held him, occasionally running your fingers through his hair. It was heaven for Steve, the perfect way to end his life that once was. The perfect way to send off his existence – because whether he died or not, he wasn’t going to come back the same. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it would all be over, and maybe he really could take you to Santa Monica.

Maybes aren’t a lot, but they’re enough for someone who doesn’t think he has a chance.

Steve wakes early in the morning to meet at the Wheeler house before departing on their journey. He feels oddly calm and collected. He feels like he has more of a chance. Something to look forward to, if only he just survives and gets back home to you, his love, his life.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, hugging him tightly. “I’ll be right here when you’re back.”

Steve hugs back. “I’ll see you soon.”

You smile at him as you pull back. “I love you.” It’s almost like a joke, here in the soft blue light of morning, but you mean it.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t want to turn away from you to walk to his car. Every step feels like a step closer to doom, to losing you. He opens the driver’s side door.

“Hey, Steve?”

He glances over the roof to look at you.

“Be careful, okay?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “I promise I will.”

===

taglist:  @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready @wolfish-willow @sassisaluxury @willowrose99 @harringtown @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo​ @darth-el @sourapplebaby @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @andyl394 @astil-be @troop-scoop​ @ilovebucketbarnes @with-a-little-bit-of-light​

[herstoryherlegacy]

Expect the unexpected

(Trigger warning - lots of throw ups)

This has never really been my motto. Most things in my life have been expected or I’ve had signs pointed out to me that gives me a hint of what lies ahead. I was not expecting to be in the ER tonight. Actually I was just about to put my makeup on and do a lovely couples photoshoot with my husband when I got the call to come to the ER for possible blood clot in my lungs. Let me back up..

I had been healing from my port placement 3 days ago. Yesterday I was texting Juan updates on how I was feeling. I’m extremely thankful he was so diligent on checking in on me. My main concern was the tightness in my chest, pressure where the port is. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt better resting. I had even been doing light housework to stay up and active. Today he checked in again. The chest pressure was better. I could actually take a deep breath with little to no problem. Fast forward to this afternoon. I had went down to my best friend Sam’s salon to get my hair styled for my photoshoot. She’s on the 2nd floor and we took the stairs. My favorite part. I hadn’t exercised since my diagnosis and it’s been killing me. I was so active. Upon reaching the 2nd floor which was not far, I was winded. I text Juan letting him know, and he didn’t respond right away. I sat down, caught my breath, and got my hair done. As soon as I parked at home Juan called. He was consulting his doctor and advised I go in ASAP to an urgent care to be seen. I needed an x-ray, EKG, oxygen levels checked to rule out a possible blood clot in the lungs. Fuck me..

Disappointed to say the least. I walked into my home filled with laughter from my girls and their cousins, everyone gathered at the table for a meal, my in laws were visiting. All I could say was, we have to go to urgent care. I didn’t even kiss my babies goodbye 😕 I said goodbye to them but not thinking I wouldn’t be back tonight didn’t cross my mind. Now I wish I had. I arrived at a local urgent care before closing and the first thing I noticed in the lobby were vases of fake sunflowers. By pure coincidence, I use a sunflower background when I update my stories about my disease. I immediately knew this was God’s way of telling me he was with me and that I would be okay. I went into a room to be evaluated, and guess what kind of shoes the nurse was wearing? I’d never seen these before, but white vans with yellow sunflowers all over. There are no coincidences! However I wasn’t helped and was told to go to the ER.

No one likes to be in the ER, especially not right now. I had labs drawn, and an x-ray which showed proper placement of the port. Luckily Juan was here working and able to be there for my x-ray. He came to see me once more before he left to tell me he was going to communicate with the doctor about my CT and insulin complications. I had mentioned I was waiting for my husband to bring my charger because I was basically on E, and he graciously went to retrieve his charger to give to me. So extremely thankful for that gesture because alone, with no connection to my family in this place, is NOT the business. A charged phone is a precious lifeline so please always keep yours charged! So now..I wait for the CT.

I had been moved all over that ER. First I came to a bed and talked with a nurse. Then another nurse came in demanding she needed the bed. Once I was done I was booted off that bed so fast and into a chair in a hallway. The place was littered with sick people inside and outside rooms. It was so sad and crowded. I do believe I was mixed with both normal sick people and possible covid patients. To say I was nervous is an understatement. Back and forth I went between rooms, chairs, main waiting room, and scans. The longest wait was waiting to have my CT scan. I was in a room with chemo type reclining chairs. This poor girl in front of me was dealing with pain, bad. I felt so sorry for her. She was doing a good job being quiet but her face and body language looked like she was in active labor, though she was not. After watching I assumed she was suffering some sort of abdominal pain. When it was just us two, I didn’t want to make her talk, but I told her that I didn’t know what she was going through but that I was going to cover her in prayer. Her eyes lit up. She said thank you a bunch and I just assured her that I had her taken care of. I prayed with healing words. No matter what situation I’m in, I would never turn down the opportunity to put myself aside and pray for someone else who needed it more. I have failed this test before many times being too shy to pray, but you never know how those simple words of offering someone prayer may help them feel better. I wanted to cry, yeah I was in here for a possible life threatening issue, but I was nowhere as bad off as these people.

So I prayed for her, and eventually it was my turn to go to my CT. I had an IV put in, flushed, and had 3 medications to help me with my scan. One was Benadryl. I was actually glad to have it because I’ll be receiving it in my Pre-chemo cocktail and I wasn’t sure how I would feel on it. Yes it made me woozy immediately, but it was tolerable. Almost enjoyable in the correct setting. Waiting again, and was wheeled over by this super nice guy who eased the stress with good conversation. If you’ve ever done an MRI with contrast..it’s a fucking insane feeling. I laid down, the nurse flushed my IV and added the contrast. She loaded me in and waited a few minutes for it to kick in. I was in the machine for another few minutes and immediately when I was done I felt the warm rush. I’ve previously been warned it makes you feel really warm and almost like you’ve pee’d yourself. Thank god they reminded me because the warm sensation is explosive. It simultaneously felt like hot water was exploding from both my chest outward and my crotch 😂 indeed I clenched my body in case I did pee, but that’s exactly how it felt!!! So odd. Off to wait again for the results. This is where it for torturous. I am SO thankful for my AirPods and this charger. I have a very sensitive trigger to throwing up. Myself, other people, I can’t handle it. I actually did a good job this last week because both my girls got a virus, and I wasn’t second hand nauseous at all, that’s a victory. But in this ER literally 90% of the patients were vomiting 😑 I cranked those air pods to the max to drown out the sound. Closed my eyes. I don’t want what they got. So I’m in the big chair room again, my poor friend comes back in. Still in pain desperate for relief. Then another person, and another until the whole room was filled with us 5 people. 3/5 with vomiting 😕. Poor baby I prayed for got sick first, she was telling a nurse she was getting sick from the pain itself. Then the girl directly next to me. As she was getting her IV meds she started to get sick. It was a constant rush of nurses trying to get those sick bags in time..bless their quickness. I winced and turned to my left as to avoid being there. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I wasn’t in the direct line of someone getting sick. I was miserable. Benadryl still kicking, I tried to nap, but had to keep my eyes open waiting for my name to be called. Eventually the time came, I was put in a draw chair outside the big chair room and my doctor read me the good news! I had my IV’s taken out and asked if they wanted me to go back into the big chair room (I don’t want to hog the draw chair in case someone needed it) and he said sure, just as I stood up the first poor girl started wrenching and I said “you know what I’ll stay here” and with a laugh the nurse walked back to their station and printed my discharge papers. I was R E L I E V E D. I was as calm in this situation as I needed to be, panicking and stressing weren’t going to help me. Easier said than done, to just not stress, but knowing how much trauma your body goes through WHEN you stress, it just wasn’t going to work in my favor. I came home famished, ate my dinner at 11:30pm, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by a small serving of ice cream. Then my blood sugars sky rocketed all night 🙃 eh, not a good thing but I will hopefully have that very taken care of soon. Praise God nothing came out of this, each day has its own surprises, not all good, but also not all bad. The day started well with me sharing that my CT showed no cancer anywhere else in my body. This is EXTREMELY good news, and ended with me in the ER. You just never know how things will play out. So hug your kids, tell them you love them, do something fun. Enjoy the day given, because in a flash it could all be taken away ✌🏻