#like. if that sad little teenager could see me now . i think shed be happy

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

god i love gravity falls so much

[milaisreading]

Wedding nightmare

Pairing:

Itoshi Rin x Reader (hint of Itoshi Sae)

Warnings ⚠️: characters are aged up. Reader uses she/her, there is angst but read till the end, it doesn't end sad! Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Rin for a long time didn't know what exactly his dream was. At first both him and Sae dreamed of becoming the World's number 1 and number 2 players. Slowly, after Sae left for Spain, that dream dissipated and the silly childhood promises turned into nothing. He wanted to crush his brother after he humiliated him at the playground, for stealing the childhood dreams they had and for... for just not being the big brother he knew and loved. Now, at the age of 24 Rin pretty much forgot all the resentment he held for Sae. He had accomplished a lot ever since he entered Blue Lock at the age of 16. From becoming one of the World's best strikers, to playing for a well-known French club, to winning the World Cup, Rin had it all. The fame never got much to his head and he pretty much stayed the same, stoic and somewhat sarcastic man he used to be in his teenage years. Well, he was like that towards the outside world, to his beloved girlfriend it was a whole other story. As much as Rin didn't want to admit that Blue Lock changed him as a person, it was the truth. He entered the project and boom fell hard for the manager. (L/n) (Y/n), Rin sighed dreamily as he remembered the day they met. Just after the 2nd selection started he met her in the hallway as she was helping one of the players. And boy was he whipped! From her looks to her caring personality, everything drew him in and he was determined to get to know her better. At first it was hard, with (Y/n) having a close bond with the players of Wing 5, to them also liking her and to his standoffish personality. But he somehow made it work, he somehow got her to agree to go out with him and here he was. After 3 years of dating, he was getting married. Rin chuckled a little as a blush made it on his face as he remembered the day he proposed to (Y/n). It was a intimate proposal, in the safety of their shared apartment on their anniversary day. He still remembered the happiness he felt when she said yes, hugging and kissing him. Rin was finally at peace. And today was finally the day Rin had waited for so long. The wedding ceremony itself was a pretty small one, only family members and a few close friends.

"Ahhh~ my baby is getting married! I never thought of seeing this day!" Rin smiled as his mother shed a few tears. His father fixed up his tie as Sae stood coldly to the side, glaring at Rin from time to time.

"I honestly didn't think that either of you would get married, with how obsessed with football you are. But it's finally happening!" His mom hugged Rin as his father tried to calm her down.

"Honey, you are being a little dramatic. Both Rin and Sae are pretty young. Who knows, maybe next thing we know Sae will surprise us with a girlfriend he kept hidden." The father teased as they looked at the said redhead.

"You are in a really foul mood today, Sae." His mom noted, wiping a few tears away.

"Yeah, cheer up or else you might scare (Y/n) away." Rin teased, satisfied that Sae never got and never will get the chance to know (Y/n) the same way he did. Sae let out a sigh and looked at the trio.

"I just didn't sleep enough. After all, it's not everyday Rinnie gets married." Sae said, faking a smile. Rin frowned at the nickname, he didn't like it when Sae used it.

"Besides, it's not everyday that a girl like (Y/n) is joining the family, am I right?" Sae asked again, directing the question to the youngest.

"Yeah, true." Rin gave a fake smile back as the parents stayed oblivious to their rivalry over the girl. There was a knock on the door and the maid of honor peeked into the room, nervously looking at Rin.

"Rin-san? Could you come with me?"

"What is it? Weren't you with (Y/n)?"

"I... it is about (Y/n), she has been crying for the past hour or so." She answered back. This caused Rin and Sae to look at her in panic while the parents gave her a worried look.

"What?! Why didn't you call me an hour ago?!" Rin yelled in worry as he walked towards the door.

"Rin, please calm down!" His mom tried to argue and Sae watched him storm out.

"I will go and take some fresh air. All this wedding stuff is ticking me off." Sae sighed and walked out, ignoring his father's calls.

Rin stormed towards the room (Y/n) was in, worry written all over his face.

"Ah! Rin-san, good that you are here! She doesn't want to talk with us." Her step-brother said as he and his wife were waiting in front of the door. Rin nodded his head and told them to go freshen up while he deals with it.

"(Y/n), baby what's wrong?" The teal-eyed man asked as he walked into the room, his heart breaking when he saw her crying. She looked up and flinched when she saw Rin.

"Rin... I am so sorry..." The woman cried out, getting up from her chair as Rin ran over to her.

"What are you apologizing for? Come here." The teal-eyed man said trying to hug her, but to his surprise she rejected the idea.

"No... Rin, I can't marry you. God I should have said something earlier..." Rin felt his knees shake at that, but spoke up.

"Haha... (Y/n), don't joke like that-"

"It's not a joke! I can't marry you... I love someone else, Rin."

The football player felt his heart shatter when she cried out those words.

'No no no... this can't be real. She loves me, she told me that last night.'

"(Y/n), you can't be for real. You told me last night that you loved me." The woman let out another sob and shook her head.

"No Rin, I lied. Truth is, I am in love with someone else, have been for 2 years and he knows it." (Y/n) admitted. Rin felt like he couldn't breath, this couldn't be real! They were supposed to get married, have a family and live a happy life! What was this?!

"And... and who? How did you fall for him?" Rin asked, although he wasn't really sure if he wanted to know her answer. After all, his world was falling apart because of him.

(Y/n) glanced at the person standing behind him and sighed, wiping her tears away.

"You remember the time you couldn't come to Madrid with me?" Rin thought for a moment, then his eyes widened in realization as to who the man was.

"Sae... You fell in love with him?!" Rin yelled in disbelief.

"Don't blame her, little brother. After all, it was you prioritizing your career over (Y/n)'s feelings." Sae spoke up as he walked past him and to where (Y/n) was, giving her tight hug.

"You... you bastard! How could you do this to me?! And let her go!" Rin yelled in anger.

"Rin, it's my fault, don't be mad at Sae. Back then, you just barely ever made time for me and just talked about football. You acted like I was am afterthought, Sae on the other hand... he really made time for me, made me feel special and we kind of hit it off." (Y/n) said, burying her face into Sae's chest.

"(Y/n)..." Rin muttered as he watched the two, realizing what she meant.

'Why can't I move? I want to punch Sae so bad! But my feet won't listen to me.'

"Sorry Rin, but it looks like you will forever be the 2nd best." Sae chuckled, kissing (Y/n)'s forehead.

'No way... not (Y/n)! He can take my fame and talent for all I care, but not her!'

"(Y/n)? Please don't, I will do better, but please don't go for Sae! Please!" Rin begged as tears started sliding down his cheeks.

"It's too late, Rin..." (Y/n) shook her head.

"No! It's not! Please (Y/n)!" The room started spinning and Rin felt like he was about to lose consciousness any time.

"Please!" Rin cried out and sat up on his bed, panting and sweating as he looked around.

"What was... where am I?" The teal-eyed boy thought as he frantically looked around the room.

'This is my room? Was that a dream?' Rin thought as he took his phone from the nightstand. Unlocking it, he quickly dialed a number and waited for an answer. After about a minute, a voice spoke up from the other side and Rin felt a few tear drops fall down his face.

"Hello, Rinnie? Are you alright?" (Y/n) asked, clearly startled from his call at 4 in the morning.

"(Y/n)?! Thank God... how long have we been dating?" He asked, trying to calm his racing heart down.

"What... like a year? Rin, why are you asking me that now?" (Y/n) asked in worry as Rin laid down again.

"No reason... say, did you make any plans for next week?"

"I thought I told you... but we made those plans for Spain, but I have to cancel them tomorrow, since you have to prepare for the championship." (Y/n) yawned.

"Why would you cancel? You told me you wanted to visit Spain, my championship has nothing to do with it." Rin raised an eyebrow.

"I am not going alone there. I want to spend time with you." Rin wanted to say it was stupid and to go without him, but then remembered the dream he had a stopped himself.

'This is my chance... the dream was like a warning.'

"You are not canceling anything! I am taking next week off and we are focusing all our energy on Spain and going wherever you planed." Rin said sternly.

"But the champion-"

"Screw that! We are going there next week and the championship is in like a month anyways. That can wait."

"O-ok..." Rin could clearly hear how startled she was, making him realize just how much he put his work before her. He will need a balance, he will make this work.

'I will be the only one to make you feel special. I promise.' Rin nodded to himself as they spoke on the phone for the next hour. Slowly Rin forgot about the nightmare and he became calmer, enjoying his conversation.

[sekai-no-reita]

A letter to Reita... From my heart to yours.

(Under the cut for your sake.)

My dearest れいた,

I know you will not be able to read this letter, but I hope these words still reach you wherever you are; from one soul to another.

I don't even know where to begin... I never thought I would have to write a goodbye letter like this to you. This all feels like a bad dream that I cannot wake up from.

I followed you and your journey with the GazettE for 18 long years.. I grew up with you. It feels like I've lost a dear friend, a family member, if you will. There are no words to describe this grief I'm feeling. Believe me, I have tried...

You guys were with me through everything from my teenage years to this day. If I was happy, you were there. If I was sad, you were there. You were always there. I could always rely on you being by my side when I needed you.

When you came to Finland for the first time in 2007 I queued outside the venue in the cold late October weather all night long, just so I could get a good viewing spot for the gig. It was insane... I was so cold and sleep deprived on the day of the gig, only having slept for like an hour, haha. But when you guys came on stage, none of it mattered. I was so happy. It was a dream come true.

And that's when I fell in love with you, Reita. That was the turning point. I had been listening to your music for a little over a year by then but Ruki was the one who held my heart. But then you.. You captivated me the moment you stepped on that stage. Of course I had always noticed you, your basslines and talent but.. when I saw you play live, it was almost hypnotizing. Especially during RIDE WITH THE ROCKERS. I was so incredibly happy you played it that time. I still remember the way you moved your belly and hips and shoulders when you were standing in the spotlight... Being admired by everyone.

I was fortunate enough to see you guys live two more times; in 2013 and in 2016 during your world tours. Especially in 2016 when I had the VIP wristband and I got to meet you. I still remember how surreal it all felt to me. It was all like a dream. The most wonderful dream. I was supposed to tell you then how much I admired you, how talented you were. But I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. Not with you staring at me with your (one visible) eye. All I managed to do was give you the little gift bag with the bracelet in it with a shaky "douzo". You were a little surprised by the gift and thanked me "Ahh, arigatou". Then you took my hand and we thanked each other again. Now I kick myself... I should've told you exactly how I felt. Now I will never get another chance to do it. Now you will never know...

You were so incredibly kind and sweet and caring...

Writing about you in the past tense breaks my heart. The world has lost something too pure, too beautiful.

Your passion towards the GazettE was a thing to admire. How you cared for your fans.. You never took anything for granted. All the tears you shed after your tour finals.. they were real (even when you in an interview joked that they were cgi *laugh*). That was how much you cared. That was your true strength.

There will never be anyone else like you.

The world will never be the same after losing you.

Your bass defined Gazette's music in a way. Everytime I listen to any of your songs, your bass stands out. It is incredible. I don't think any other band does that; puts the bass in such a spotlight. That's how important you are, ..were.

You are the reason I even own a bass. I wanted to be able to play like you. Sadly I cannot... I was too short-tempered and lost my nerve when I couldn't get my fingers to co-operate *laugh* But my bass is still there, waiting. Reminding me of you. Maybe one day I'll be able to pick it up again and think of you with a smile on my face.

I really do hope you know how loved you were -and still are-; by everyone. The band, the fans... How much you were respected by your peers and other musicians. You defined an era in v-kei. That's how important you were. Are.

There are so many more things I would like to say to you. But maybe another time. Maybe I'll write you another letter. Maybe someday I'll meet you again in the afterlife and I'll be able to tell you face to face everything I haven't been able to so far.

I hope you are now at peace and can rest.

I love and miss you so much.

Thank you for everything you have given me. It is a debt I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you.

Rest in peace, my beautiful angel.

With all my love,

Marisa

[patronsaintofmath]

i wish old man daniel was my grandpa or smth. i wish i could go hiking w him more & listen to his anecdotes & i wanna make him laugh. when i went hiking w him at corbett lake it was just the two of us in the car for the most part (about 4 hours total) & i was worried i’d be awkward or too boring for him but he loves to talk & i prefer to listen so he talked the entire ride & im so grateful for that. when we drove back to the city, i didn’t even want to leave the car i kinda just wanted to keep listening to his stories. we don’t know each other that well. in fact, we’ve only gone hiking 4 times together. but each time i’ve carpooled w him & have hiked right by his side. i think it’s funny that every time we go back to the city, i fall asleep while he drives. it makes me feel like a little kid 😭. also when he sprayed bug spray on me & brought me my sandals. that made me feel like a little kid. also i just appreciate that he didn’t accept the beer bc i was in the car w him & he was gonna drive. so he was being safe. when we were in the car he talked about his family. he told me about his abusive mother & his sister’s passing. & he asked me if i knew anyone w an addiction & i told him my father’s an alcoholic & we just shared a bit more about our family & i don’t know i think we got to know each other a bit better. he sometimes has his senior moments where he talks smack about tHe neW gEnERatiOn & how he quit his teaching jobs bc he hates kids. so sometimes i’m like damn does he hate me 😭??? but other times i think this could be good for us. i didn’t have a relationship with either of my grandfathers & old man daniel didn’t have kids or nieces/nephews. so i don’t know i think we could complement each other in that way. i learn a lot from him. i may not have much to contribute but maybe i can teach him something in the future. hopefully i see him again. i go back to my studies in two days. i’ll be busy every weekday w my studies & work. usually old man daniel goes hiking during the week bc there’s too much traffic (vehicles & humans) on weekends. so maybe i won’t see him until next semester or maybe even next summer. that kinda bums me out. in fact, i’m a little sad. i know i just met him two months ago. but maybe i just really want an older male figure in my life. i forgot to tell him not to die when i said bye to him. the neat thing is we have each other on social media now. he even shared his playlist w me 😭 i think he does this w everyone bc he LOVES to talk with everyone. i’m pretty sure he has some form of adhd & i even told him & he thinks he does too but more specifically Add. he took a fire pic of me like w my back turned & im facing the lake we hiked to. it was cool. typing this is making me tear up for some reason. I DONT EVEN KNOW THE MAN LIKE THAT. what if he does think i’m annoying. it’s very probable. there’s tears now. maybe i’m just mourning what could have been. i had even said to my friends that old man daniel & i were like the old man & the kid in the movie Up. now i’m sad. this’ll pass. i felt this way w my priest. as you’ll see there’s a pattern here. i get attached to adults who’s company i enjoy & who i learn from & who make me feel better. but you know what im just happy that i know this old man. it’s ok that im shedding tears. as long as it’s not in front of anyone bc then i’ll just seem crazy & delusional. only i understand why i’m sad. i do miss old man daniel & i don’t know how to deal w that.

some stuff he’s told me so i won’t forget: he had a sister, josefina. she passed away when she was 30 from lupus. he likes 60’s music the most but he also listens to grunge like alice in chains, nirvana, & pearl jam. he’s got a collection of rocks. he also takes a bunch of pictures of everything & everywhere he goes. he downloads the pictures onto his computer when he gets home. he’s always liked to hike & camp & backpack since he was a teenager.

i’ll add more about him.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.4

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

Stolas sat in the family limo, enjoying the smooth rumble of limos engine as he travelled home. Along the way, he felt... at peace.

As though, all the problems that plagued his mind before, had... evaporated.

Stolas ran a hand down his chest, his thighs grinding together as he thought about his time with you.

You were so gentle. So tender and elegant with him. As though he were some delicate piece of art.

But he knew the truth...

You handled him so delicately, because you wanted him to feel loved.

...Because you loved him.

The thought sending a whole new wave of warmth threw him.

So focused on the events that just transpired was he, he didn't even notice his arrival home.

He walked through the building blissfully unawares of all around him, almost in a drunken state.

Entering his chambers he found the bed made and empty.

Of course it was, Stella hadn't shared there bed since Blitzø fell into Stella's brunch.

He'd once found it all so charming. Blitzø's brash, rough and tumble attitude had once made him swoon.

But now when he thought about being with Blitzø, he just felt like an idiot for having thought there relationship was anything beyond a business transaction.

But now he had you. And you were all he needed now.

He fell onto his bed, not bothering with the covers. Content to just lay there and bask in the light you brought to his life.

But those tears he shed had took a toll on him, and as much as he wished to bask in this warmth he could feel sleep taking him and with one more happy thought of you, he allowed sleep take him.

He awoke early the morning, and despite being bathed in the light of Hell's crimson sun.

He felt cold.

As though all the warmth youd given him yesterday had simply vanished.

He sat up, sluggishily removing the covers went about preparing for his day of... nothing.

Stella hadn't allowed him anywhere near his usual meeting or appointments, not since- well you know what happened.

Perhaps he'd try and talk to his beloved Octavia. If she was feeling hospitable.

Hmmm. Perhaps not. He should probably just give her some space.

Besides he realised an even more important thing he could do with his morning.

Learning everything he could about You.

Turning over, he found his phone. Looking through his contacts.

He found your name, going into your contact he considered messaging you, but decided against it. He didn't want to bother you so early in the morning.

Instead he pulled up Voxtigram, his main form of communication, before typing in your name.

But he couldn't find you.

So he checked Blitzø's friend list, he eventually found you, it turns out you just had your name backwards, something that made him chuckle.

Seeing pictures of Blitzø sent pangs of sadness through his chest, but he soldiered on.

Scrolling through your pictures, he didn't find much.

Alot of them were just pictures of the places you'd been, or one of the weapons you used on the job.

He eventually did find some of you.

The first he found was you and the two other Imps that worked there, Millie and Moxxie he was pretty sure were there names.

The next was you on your first day at work.

It was a selfie of you in a group hug with Blitzø and the others.

You were all clearly being forced by Blitzø.

The awkward little smile you wore sent a wave of warmth through him.

Scrolling further down, he found more pictures of you. Most of them were just you relaxing at a variety of places, or after after getting a new outfit. Just general stuff about your life in hell.

Then he found one that made his heart skip a beat.

It was a picture of you. Wearing just a pair of shorts at the gym.

You were pulling a little pose, flexing your muscles in front of a mirror, a shy little blush across your cheeks.

Stolas' swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry.

He rubbed his thighs together as he fantasised about licking the sweat off your abs.

With a shake to his head, he decided now was a good time to get out of bed.

Leaving his phone as he went and took a nice long shower.

A nice long, cold shower.

Getting out, he chose a more casual outfit.

An old T-shirt and some jeans he reserved for comfy home clothes. He didn't have anywhere to be.

He made his way to the kitchen, where he found Octavia sitting at the table.

The more calculating part of his brain told him to just leave her alone, but he decided against it. He shouldn't hide from his daughter, she needed to know he was still there for her 'Hello darling, how did you sleep.' He asked pleasantly.

Octavia looked up at him, her eyes looking cold and annoyed. So, not all to different from her usual teenage gaze.

'I slept fine dad.' She sai, her voice dull and lifless, before looking back down at her phone.

Stolas swelled with joy.

His daughter was speaking to him again. Everything seemed seemed to be getting better for him.

Pouring himself a bowl of serial, he took a rather lecherous lstroll down memory lane, Thinking about his time with you.

He didn't know how long he'd been thinking about you, but he was quickly pulled out of it when he felt something hit him on the back.

The clanging of cutlery that followed soon after gave him a good idea of what it was.

Turning around he found a rather angry teenage owl glaring at him.

Before he could ask what was wrong. The owlet released a frustrated growl. 'Can you just not?' She asked rhetorically.

Running down her face she told him 'I have do deal with you and Mums B.S. all the time, can you just not fantasise about your fuckin Blitzy~ in front of me.'

She fell back into her seat with a huff.

Stolas was a little shocked. He hadn't thought his beloved daughter could be so course.

'I-I... I didn't realise I was being so bothersome.' He said, sounding perhaps a bit to wounded.

Octavia sighed, 'Can you just not in the kitchen. Where we eat, please?' She asked, going back to her breakfast.

Stolas sighed, picking up his now soggy bowl of serial. 'How long had I been in that state?' He asked himself.

'Five minutes' answered Octavia not looking up from her phone.

'Oh' he said to himself, taking the bowl he poured it into the trash. 'Well that's disgusting.'

He chuckled to himself. Looking over his shoulder he said 'Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear you won't be hearing much about Blitzø... ever again.' He told her being perhaps a little vitriolic.

Getting a cup from the cupboard, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Walking over to Octavia he went to take a seat, but stopped upon seeing her distrustful gaze.

Taking a seat he sighed. 'Octavia, darling... I know these past few weeks haven't been easy on you. And I know much of that-" He had to stop as Octavia glared daggers at him. "...All of it, was my fault. But I promise, things will get better... for both of us.' He took her hand into his own. 'I promise.'

Octavia looked up at him, she looked so startled by his words.

It seemed like she was gonna say something, dew drops forming in the corners of her eyes.

He was about to say something when Octavia shot up and ran away.

Stolas sat there. For a long while. His conversation running over in his mind.

Taking a drink from his coffee he stood up, put his cup in the sink and left.

He found himself in his garden, perhaps the last place he still felt at home on the palace grounds.

Trying to calm himself down went about his usual grooming routine.

Trimming bushes, feeding his plants, pulling weeds and just general plant care.

And as much as his plants soothed his nerves,, he could feel his mood shifting.

The depression beganing to invade his thoughts.

He felt himself become that miserable husk that got shoved out of Blitzøs office.

He clutched his head, hunching over on the brink of tears. His thoughts became like daggers, stabbing into his thoughts.

But before he could shed a tear, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he found it was a call from you.

In something of a surprised stupor, he answered the call. He tried to clear the emotion from his voice before saying 'Hello?'

'Stolas? Are you okay? You sound upset.' You asked him, concern in your voice.

'(Y/N)?! I... I'm...' he was going to tell you some fluff story, pretending he was fine and probably throwing a few lewd innuendos I'm there.

But, he choked... He just couldn't.

'No... No I'm not okay.' He told you, on the brink of tears. 'I feel like everything is broken and it's all my fault.'

You took a moment to respond, clearing your throat you said. 'Stolas... why did you sleep with Blitzø?'

Stolas was taken aback, 'P-Pardon?'

You sighed, 'Did you want to hurt your family when you chose to sleep with Blitzø?'

Bringing up it was he who made of decision to sleep with Blitzø, made his self loathing grow like a fire.

'N-No!' He told you 'I would never want to hurt my family...'

'Its alright Stolas, I know you wouldn't want to hurt them... But you slept with him for a reason Stolas, you need to know what it is.'

Stolas wasn't sure how to answer, he didn't really know the answer. He could lie, tell you it was just a spur of the moment decision, but that just wasn't true.

'I-I don't know.' He stated, more then said. 'I don't know why I did it... I just... don't know.'

He sat there for several moments, his mind going into overdrive as he thought over the question.

'Its alright Stolas, I believe you. But you need to figure it out, this is something that will haunt you until you figure it out." You told him, trying your best to be serious.

Stolas wiped his eyes, before asking you, 'why did you call (Y/n)? I... don't remember giving you my number!' He mumbled out, rubbing his eye.

You coughed, clearing your throat, 'Don't worry about that. I actually called you because, well I mean, I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to do something tomorrow?' You asked him, voice thick with bashfulness.

Stolas was really taken aback, 'You... You want to do something... With me?' He asked incredulously.

You chuckled on the other end of the phone. 'If I were there right now, Stolas, I'd probably boop you right on a nose.' You tell him through a smile.

'I'd love to do something!' Stolas practically cheered. You chuckled, before telling him 'Great, Ive already got an idea, but if youd like to do-'

Before you could finish your note, Stolas shouted, 'I'd love Too!'

Stolas quickly calmed down, before clearing his throat, 'Sorry... I mean, I'd love to do whatever you had in mind.' He said, cringing at how desperate he'd sounded.

'Good to hear' You chuckled, 'Well, there's this great wine place I know that makes the best little pizzas, and I, uh, wanted to share it with you.'

Your words sent a wave of ecstasy through his body. You not only wanted to spend time with him but actively sought him out to spend time with him.

You were everything he wished Blitzø was.

And he loved it.

He didn't need Blitzø.

He had you now.

'Of course (Y/N), It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you.' He told you, biting his lip.

He felt like a school girl with her first crush, a youthful giddiness clouded his mind.

'Oh? Well I've got tomorrow off, does that work for you? We can do it another day if your busy.' You told him, concern clear in your voice.

It was Stolas' turn to laugh at the tone in your voice.

'I don't have anything on tomorrow, so I'd love to accompany you to yor wine and pizza place. Nothing would make me happier.' He told you earnestly.

He could hear the smile in your voice, as you told him. 'Well, I'm happy to hear that. I'll send you the address later today, call me if you need any directions... I'll see you then, Stolas.'

'I...' Stolas wanted to tell you how much he loved you, just how much joy you brought him with one simple phone call.

He wanted to tell you, but didn't have the words.

As he tried to manifest the words he needed, he heard say through the phone.

'Its alright Stolas. I look forward to seeing you too.'

You told him simply, Stolas just sighed. How you always knew what he was trying to say.

'I'll see you tomorrow, My Beloved.' he told you before you hung up.

Hearing the tell tale dial tone, looking down at the phone, your image in the caller I.D. bringing a smile to his face.

[flightlessangelwings]

Run

Ezra (Prospect) x gn!reader

Word count: 4.5k (I don’t know what happened either)

Warnings: angst, pining, fluff, hurt/comfort, non descript smut, protective!Ezra, mentions of past abuse (nothing graphic, I tried to be as vague as possible so it’s not triggering but I needed a tragic backstory), mild violence, minor character death, happy ending

~

Run.

That was the only thought in your head as you sprinted through the vast desert planet that you had found yourself on. Run. Don’t stop. Keep going. Get away.

You don’t know how long you ran for. At least an hour had to have passed from when you took off. Most likely, it was longer considering how much the sun had moved in the sky. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You had to keep going. Even though at this point, there was nothing and no one behind you, you still couldn't stop.

You just couldn’t stop. You just ran. And ran. You ran until…

Because your eyes were too filled with tears and the adrenaline coursed through your veins, you didn’t pay attention to what was right in front of you until you ran smack into it. With a grunt, you crashed into someone and landed right on top of them. It was then that you realized just how exhausted you were, and you would have passed out on the spot if it wasn’t for a whimsical voice that ran though your comm.

“Careful there, gazelle. You could hurt somebody with that fervent tenacity.”

With wide eyes, you lifted your gaze from where it fell on his chest up to his face to find a handsome man with kind eyes and faint scars on his cheek. You also noticed the small patch of blonde in his hair that seemed to suit him. Quickly, you scrambled away from him and scooted yourself so that you sat opposite him on the ground, “I’m so sorry…” your voice was weak and hoarse from your exhaustion, “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No harm done,” he replied as he got to his feet. 

It was then that you noticed he only had one arm, and you quickly looked away so you weren’t rude by staring. While your gaze was on the ground, a hand came into your line of sight as he offered to help you stand. You looked up to his face once more and you instantly felt calmed by his soft smile, but you made no attempt to move.

“I won’t hurt you,” he spoke in a reassuring tone as he held his hand steady in front of you.

A moment passed before you finally accepted and placed your hand in his and let him guide you up. “Thanks,” you mumbled once you were steady on your feet,

“Now what brings a beautiful desert rose such as yourself out here all alone?” he was direct with his question, since it was unusual for someone to be by themself on a desolate planet like this.

“I…” words failed you as your face twisted into a pained expression. You weren’t about to spill your thoughts to a complete stranger. He had to have noticed how out of breath you were, and you were obviously trying to get away from something, or someone, but he didn’t press when you didn’t offer an explanation.

“I assume I don’t need to disarm you or knock you back down,” he smiled at his words. When you shook your head and assured him you weren’t a threat, he introduced himself, “I’m Ezra. What shall I call you?”

You gave him your name and realized that your hands were still connected. Your eyes went wide for a moment before he gave your hand a quick shake and finally released you. Adrenaline still rushed through your veins as you tried to calm yourself down, and you found that your gaze lingered on the man you had literally just run into. He had scars on his face, but you saw a kindness in his eyes, and there was something about him that started to put your mind at ease.

“Are you in need of shelter?” Ezra asked, “My partner and I are set up not too far from here. I can offer you a safe place with us.”

You were taken aback by his offer, “You’d take me in just like that? No questions asked?”

“Well, I do have questions,” he put his hand on his hip, “But I can gather from your appearance that you’re in need of help. And since you haven’t tried to disarm me yet, I think it’s fair to assume you won’t cause trouble.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out as you slowly reached for your weapon, “Here,” you extended it out to him, “So you can trust me.”

Ezra eyed the weapon in your hand for a moment before he gently pushed it back towards your body, “The gesture alone tells me all I need to know,” he paused as he thought, “How are you so willing to trust me then, desert rose?”

You shrugged, “Intuition I guess,” you really didn’t have a choice if you wanted to get off this planet, but it was true that you had a good feeling about this man. After all, nothing could be worse than what you just ran from, so you took your chance with this stranger.

He led you toward the tent he and his partner, a teenage girl named Cee, had set up. She seemed more apprehensive of you, but she listened to Ezra when he explained what little he knew about you. Cee didn’t seem as convinced, but she relaxed slightly at Ezra’s words.

“Don’t worry birdie,” he assured her, “This one is not a killer,” Ezra looked at you with confidence in his eyes.

You wanted to ask how he could possibly know that when he hardly knew anything about you, but when you saw that it helped to put Cee’s mind at ease, you chose to keep your mouth shut. Instead, you thank them both for their hospitality and shed your gear. When you were down to your undershirt, you felt both their eyes on you. You knew they saw the scars and marks that adorned your body, but neither of them commented on it, which you were thankful for.

The next cycle, the three of you were able to leave the planet. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief as you watched it get further and further away. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t feel Ezra’s eyes on you. When you all finally reached the station, the commanders in charge there had good news: they were impressed with Cee’s wits that they offered her a job with them at the command center.

She was hesitant at first, but Ezra pulled her aside and told her that she should take the job, “No one is more deserving of a position like this than you, birdie,” sincerity lined his voice, “Besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re safer here than prospecting with me.”

Cee accepted the job, and you decided to stay with Ezra as his new partner. Over the next few months, the two of you journeyed to different planets together to dig and harvest any rare gems you could find. You actually found that you made a good team, and you worked well together. You also just enjoyed Ezra’s company, and you could listen to him talk for hours.

Ezra always had colorful nicknames for you. Sometimes it was Cactus, sometimes Flower, sometimes Oasis. But when the moment seemed more special or intimate, he used the special nickname Desert Rose for you, and that one always made your heart flutter the most. All of the names he used for you always alluded to the desert planet where you met, and something about how personal his nicknames for you were made you smile.

Together, the two of you ran at your own pace from planet to planet. It was refreshing for you to move like this, not like how you were on the run before.

Over time, you each grew fond of the other, and you found that your gaze lingered on the man when his back was turned to you. You wondered what it was like to kiss him, or to feel his touch against your bare skin. Some nights, you found that you fantasized about him while you laid alone in your cot. But, you were careful not to let your feelings show. You were afraid to let someone into your heart like that, even if it was someone like Ezra, who you grew to trust.

Sometimes, you thought you felt Ezra’s gaze on you when you weren’t looking, but you just attributed that to your own growing feelings. If only you knew that you were right. There were times when Ezra couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as he watched you handle the delicate gems in your hands. When you spoke, he always stole a glance at your lips. And he always caught when you looked so sad when you thought he wasn’t looking.

It pained him to see you plagued with such sorrow and pain, and Ezra wanted nothing more than to know what it was and take it all away from you. But, he chose not to press it. He figured you would tell him one day when the time was right. Ezra offered his own story to you so that you could know him better, and in hopes that you would tell yours in return. When you didn’t, he tried not to let the sinking feeling in his chest show.

After some time together, you and Ezra found yourselves on the most beautiful planet you had ever seen. The air was clean enough that you didn’t need your suits, which you both were grateful for. 

Ezra loved to watch you when you were unobscured by your helmet. He longed to reach out and hold you, but he kept himself back for fear of frightening or upsetting you. If he was to guess, when you first met, you had run away from someone you knew who had hurt you from the way your suit was intact, yet your body was riddled with scars.

Ezra felt the growing need to protect you the longer he was near you. He knew you were more than capable of defending yourself, and he saw it first hand once when a pair of bandits tried to rob the two of you. Between the two of you, you were able to fight them off and save your harvest. Ezra had never been more attracted to you then when you knocked the bandit on his ass.

The two of you engaged in idle conversation while you worked, as you always did. It felt nice to breathe in fresh air while you worked, but you felt Ezra’s gaze on you more often than not. Every once in a while, you’d glance up and meet his eyes for a brief moment before you looked away again.

When you reached out for one of your tools, your gloved hand brushed against Ezra’s and you both froze for a moment. He had moved at the same time, and your hands connected over the tool. Your heart pounded in your chest, and yet neither of you pulled away. You opened your mouth and were about to say something when a rustle in the distance caught both of your attention.

Just as you and Ezra stood, a group of men dressed in all black strolled out from the nearby forest. They were all armed, and they did not look friendly at all. You swallowed hard and you felt Ezra nudge you back so he could place himself between you and the intruders. 

“Stay behind me,” he whispered to you in a voice that left no room for argument, “Greetings gentlemen,” he addressed the group, “I’m sorry to say that this is our digsite, so I’m going to have to ask you to move on and find somewhere else.”

The man in the middle sneered as the rest of them looked at you in a way that made your skin crawl. “Oh we’re not here for a dig,” the man who appeared to be their leader said, “We’re here for that one,” he pointed right at you.

Your blood ran cold, and a fear pulsed through you that you hadn’t felt since before you met Ezra.

“I cannot allow you to have my partner,” Ezra replied without hesitation as he slowly reached for his own weapon.

The group laughed and pointed their guns at him, “Our contract says to keep our target alive, but it didn’t mention anything about killing you.”

You gasped as you jumped in front of Ezra before you realized your movements, “No,” you shouted at them, “Don’t hurt him,” you tried to sound tough, but your voice wavered.

The men didn’t appear moved by your display, “Someone is looking for you,” the leader said, “And the price for your return is worth more than this entire digsite.”

Ezra whispered your name as he leaned in close to you. You felt him move subtly behind you, and without needing to see him, you knew he reached for your gun. From there, everything happened so fast. He shot the leader from behind you, and chaos broke out from there. Ezra kept your weapon and you reached around for his as you both fought off the group of men. 

The fight seemed to happen in a blur for you as you were too wrapped up in your emotions and fear to fully process what happened. You acted on instinct as you and Ezra took down the attackers. One of the men tried to run off, and Ezra leapt after him while you kept your weapon pointed at the leader, who laid on the ground heavily injured.

Your eyes bored into him in a mix of rage and fear as you hovered over his body. He cowered as he choked on his own blood, and he knew this was the end for him.

“He’ll never stop hunting you,” the leader spat as he looked down the barrel of your gun, “You should have seen the look on his face,” he cackled darkly between heavy breaths, “There’s no place in the universe you can run, so count your days.”

His words made you waver, and you lowered your weapon as your body froze in terror. The man took the opportunity to try to launch himself at you, but a shot from behind you stopped him before he got off the ground. The action brought you back to reality and you spun around to find Ezra behind you with his gun aimed at the leader.

He stepped up so that he was next to you and he fired once more time to make sure the leader was dead. You only stared at Ezra with wide eyes; you had never seen him look this intense before.

Once Ezra was sure everyone was dead, he turned to you, “We must get out of here, cactus,” he grabbed your arm and led you back to your campsite. 

You barely processed that you had moved, too lost in your own head to notice the world around you. It wasn’t until you were back inside your shared tent and Ezra stood in front of you that you snapped back. You parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out, and you collapsed down to the ground.

Ezra called your name as he dropped down next to you and held your arm as tightly as he could, “Flower, talk to me. What’s wrong?” he couldn’t hide the concern in his voice as he tried to bring you back to him from wherever your mind went.

After several slow breaths, you calmed yourself down enough to meet his gaze, and he broke your heart to see how scared he looked. You knew you owed him an explanation, and you thought it was time you told him your story but, “I’m sorry, Ezra,” was all you managed.

He looked deflated; he wanted nothing more than to help you, but he also didn’t want to force it. All Ezra could do was be there for you in any way you needed, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, “You have no need to apologize my desert rose,” he brushed his hand along your face in an attempt to comfort you.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. After a heavy sigh you were finally able to put your thoughts together, “I guess I owe you an explanation now.”

“You owe me nothing but your company,” he used your name. Not any nickname he had for you, but your actual name. It always held more meaning whenever Ezra used your name, since he usually referred to you with one of the many affectionate nicknames he picked out for you.

Something about the way he said your name made your heart flutter. You swallowed the feeling before you shifted so that you sat more comfortably, “The day we first met,” you started as you dropped your gaze down to the ground, “You told Cee that I’m not a killer.”

Ezra sat down in front of you just shy of your touch, “I hardly think that killing bandits counts for what I meant, flower,” he shrugged off the notion, “I still stand by that.”

You bit your lip; his words pained you more than he realized, “What if I told you you’re wrong?” you looked up to meet his gaze, and you gasped when you saw the steel resolve in his eyes. He had a look the told you that he wasn’t swayed on his opinion of you, and you hated how he looked at you like you were something worthy, something you were not.

“I find that hard to believe,” he said, “But please tell me if you’re ready.” Ezra made no move to grab a weapon or put space between your bodies. No matter what happened in your past, he still trusted you, and there was not much that you could do to change his mind.

“I am a killer Ezra,” you sighed, “In fact, it’s the first thing I did,” you scoffed as you looked up and blinked away tears, “My first act in this life was to take one.” You paused to steady yourself before you continued, “My mother died giving birth to me.”

Ezra furrowed his brows, “That does not make you a killer…”

“Tell that to my father,” you snapped as you cut him off. You looked into his eyes and by the look on his face you knew he could see the tears in yours, “He blames me for her death. In fact, he reminded me of it nearly every day.”

It wasn’t often that Ezra was stunned to silence, but he found that he had no words. He guessed that you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway, so he stayed quiet as he scooted closer toward you.

You continued when you were ready, “It wasn’t so bad when I was a kid. He took care of me well enough I guess,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, “But when I got older he… I guess I reminded him of mom and he couldn’t take it. I’m a reminder of what he lost, and he always took his anger out on me.”

Ezra scowled as he realized where all your scars came from. It all made sense now: you had run away from your father when you first met after you couldn’t take his wrath anymore. It also explained why you trusted him so fast, he was your only hope at the time. In that moment, Ezra wanted nothing more than to hold you close and try to take away your pain. He hated to see you like this, and he silently cursed your father for what he did to you.

“I ran away so many times, but he always found me. I thought maybe since it had been so long this time that he wouldn’t find me this time,” your tone turned bitter when you added, “But I guess I was wrong,” you sniffled and took in a shaky breath, “And even worse, now I got you involved in my mess.” 

He couldn’t hold back anymore and Ezra pulled you in close so that he held you flush against his chest. His arm gripped you tightly in an attempt to protect you from your own past as he said your name in a steady voice, “Do not apologize for anything,” he spoke in a low but soft tone, “None of what happened is your fault, you understand? And I would protect you until my dying breath so do not feel guilty for my involvement.”

Your breath caught in your throat at Ezra’s words. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze while you stayed securely in his embrace, “You’d what?” you asked breathlessly.

Ezra gave you a soft smile as his thumb rubbed comforting circles against your body, “I care about you,” he said your name, “And I would do anything to protect my desert rose.” 

You clung to his shirt as you searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. Your heart pounded in your chest when you realized you saw none, “I care about you too Ezra,” your voice was just a whisper. 

Slowly, he leaned in and closed the gap between your faces. Ezra paused as his lips hovered just above yours to give you the chance to pull away. It was only when you didn’t that he kissed you. 

The kiss was everything you fantasized about and more. Almost right away, you parted your lips for him to deepen the kiss, and Ezra took the invitation willingly. Emotions spiked as your tongues danced together and all the time you each had spent yearning for the other came to a head in this one kiss. You could feel the passion behind Ezra’s kiss, and you hoped he could feel yours just as much.  

You and Ezra spent the entire night in each other’s arms. You both felt like you had many cycles of lost time to make up for, and you certainly made up for it. He spent what felt like hours worshipping your body and left no scar unkissed. Ezra’s touch was unlike anyone else, and you thought you would burst when he finally slid inside you. He was rough yet tender, and you could tell how much he truly cared about you as he made love to you. It wasn’t even until your third orgasm that he gave in to his own pleasure.

When you woke up the next morning, you were still naked and cuddled up next to him. You laid there in the comfortable silence as you listened to his heartbeat in his chest. Ezra still had his arm wrapped tightly around you and even in his sleep, his grip never loosened. You smiled against his skin as you absent-mindedly traced patterns along his chest. You never allowed yourself any hope of happiness, and yet here this man was like the sun to light up your darkness. 

“Good morning flower,” Ezra’s voice was deep and raspy from sleep and you felt him place a kiss on the top of your head.

You were about to reply when a voice rang through the communicator on the table. It was a voice you recognized and you tensed in Ezra’s grip. He knew right away that the voice belonged to your father, and both of you jumped up and got dressed as quickly as you could.

As you grabbed your weapons, you tried to ignore your father’s voice. He tried this trick before: he would signal out with the sad father act, desperate to get his missing kid back. It had worked on others before when you were a teenager, but you hoped now that you were an adult that Ezra wouldn’t fall for it.

It would break your heart if he did. 

Ezra said your name as he charged up his own weapon, “Stay behind me, no matter what happens,” he met your gaze, “I promise you will be alright.”

Your eyes went wide as you clutched your gun, “Ez…” 

He squeezed your shoulder once before he stepped out of your tent. With a deep breath, you followed but you weren’t prepared to see your father just outside. You gasped as you froze in fear; all of your memories flooded back as you looked into his face for the first time in many months. He smiled and said your name as he opened his arms wide to you.

“I’ve been looking for you, sweetheart. I’ve been worried sick since you ran away,” your father’s voice sounded sincere but you knew how fake his tone was.

“Do not step any closer,” Ezra stood firmly in your father’s way however, and was not fooled by the tone of his voice. He blocked you from him with his body as he addressed your father, “I must ask you to leave,” there was a danger to his tone that you had never heard before, “My partner will not be going with you.”

You hated the way you trembled in fear from behind Ezra. You hated how weak you felt under your father’s gaze. Ezra must have felt how much you shook because he subtly reached behind you and squeezed your hand once before he hovered over his gun.

“Don’t watch, my oasis,” he mumbled to you, and you immediately buried your face into Ezra’s back. 

When it became obvious to your father that Ezra would not fall for his act, his demeanor changed. “You son of a bitch!” your father shouted as he lunged forward. 

Ezra was quick to react and shot your father before he took more than two steps. You yelped behind him but didn’t lift your head as you clutched onto the back of his shirt.

Once he was sure your father was dead, Ezra turned to you as he said your name in a softer tone, “It’s over,” he caressed your face as he tilted your head to meet his gaze, “You’re safe now.”

You looked into his dark brown eyes and all you could see was home. You had never felt like you truly had a place to call home before, but you found it for the first time in your life in Ezra’s eyes. “Safe…” you echoed in a hushed voice as you tightened your grip on him, “Thank you, Ezra.”

He smiled at you, “You've no need to thank me, my desert rose,” Ezra’s thumb brushed across your cheek as he looked at you with a tender expression, “Now when you run, you run because you want to, not because you have to.”

Without a second thought, you closed the gap between your bodies and kissed him desperately. All of your emotions poured into the kiss, and Ezra immediately reciprocated and mirrored your feelings. “I love you, Ezra,” you breathed when you broke away from him.

Ezra said your name in a soft whisper as he placed a sweet kiss to your lips, “I have fallen in love with you as well.” 

From that day on, you were finally truly free. And it was all because of the man who saved your life more times than you could count. You still ran sometimes though. But you never had to run away anymore, and whenever you ran, you always had your Ezra by your side.

~

Notes: I’m super nervous about posting this one since this is the first time I’ve written for Ezra. I had so many people read over this and I spent weeks picking at it so I hope y’all like it! Taglists are open so let me know if you’d like to be added to my Pedro characters or Ezra taglist!

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Notice Me

Request: Hey Millie :D As I said before, I am subtly crawling my way into your inbox for the first time. After carefully combing through everyone's masterlist, I realised none of you lot had my baby Oliver Wood. So, here I go. Can I please request an Oliver x Reader fic, a bit maybe angsty, but happy ending where the reader is hot tempered and likes Oliver, but he is too invested in quidditch to realise her feelings? Thank you, hun ^^ - @heloisedaphnebrightmore

A/N: My first Oliver fic and it’s for the Queen of his fics! I’m only a tad nervous!!! Thank you so much for trusting me with this request, I have loved writing it even if I am uncertain about his characterisation. ALSO I have shamelessly stolen a nickname from Outlander as a way to fuel my crush on this particular scot. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, panic BUT FLUFF AND OLIVER BEING A CUTIE

Word count: 2.3k

The ticking of the clock insisted on taunting you by getting slower and slower as the lesson progressed. Your knee began to bounce as you counted down the minutes until the bell rang and you could leave the classroom.

You throw your things into your bag as you rush out of the classroom; all the time hoping he would be waiting.

“Sassenach,” A thick Scottish accent calls out, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You grin at the familiar sight of Oliver Wood waiting for you outside the classroom; leaning up against the wall, hands in his pockets with the sleeves of his uniform rolled up. You approach him; his hand outstretched for your bag which he shoulders when you hand it to him.

“You know,” You start, “You’re going to get in trouble for calling me that.”

He smirks at you, “I don’t think I will, I’m too loved for that to happen.”

You nudge his side with your elbow, “I don’t believe that for a minute, Wood.”

Oliver throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, “Hush you, let’s go get some lunch, I’m starving.”

You laugh, “When aren’t you?”

“I’ll have you know; I’ve got to be big and strong as Captain of the Quidditch team.”

You snort, reaching to his other side and squeezing his bicep, “Sure you are, Ol. You’re big and strong.”

“You wound me, woman.”

“Take me to lunch, Wood,” You giggle.

Oliver pulls away from you, bowing down to you, “As you wish, my lady.”

You shove him to the side, but he comes back to you, his arm landing back on your shoulder, “You’re a shit, Oliver.”

“But you love me.”

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

Falling for Oliver Wood happened fast. It happened fast and it left a mark.

It happened between one blink and the next, you’re sure of it.

Thinking back to it, it had to happened when he smiled at you one morning in the Great Hall through Sixth Year. His smile lit up his entire face; bringing out the innate kindness that radiates from within his very core. His brown eyes sparkled and between one drink of orange juice and the next, you had realised you’d fallen in love with your best friend.

Simultaneously, everything made sense and your heart stuttered with the fact, but your stomach dropped, and your mind went into overdrive.

Did he already know?

Was he just pitying you?

How would he react if he found out?

Does he feel the same?

You worked through each question internally; barely finding enough to answer one of the questions suitably.

So you let yourself sit with your feelings, wondering whether they were just a temporary crush.

A year later, they hadn’t disappeared, and it was no longer a crush.

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

You loved Oliver Wood for a lot of reasons; he was kind, he was charming, he was attractive, and he was passionate.

Especially about Quidditch.

But it seemed that he only had eyes for Quidditch, and whilst you love his passion for the sport – making sure you attend every match and helping him plan strategies, you just wish he would notice you a bit more.

For the last month, conversation only seemed to revolve around Quidditch and its strategy and its history.

And as much as you love the brunette, there was only so many times you could be brushed over before deciding enough was enough.

----------

It came to ahead on a Saturday evening. For the fourth evening in a row, Oliver was ranting about Quidditch strategy and whilst you appreciated the passion he has for the sport – it being one of the things you love about him – you wish you could have a conversation about something else.

“Oliver?”

He hums in answer; still extremely focused on the piece of paper in front of him.

“I need to talk to you.”

He hums again, eyes still on the paper.

You clench your hands into fists, willing yourself not to ball up the paper and throw it into his face. You clench your teeth, “Yeah, I was thinking about asking out Marcus Flint from the Slytherin team.”

It was a petty attempt at jealousy. It was a petty attempt at getting a rise out of him.

It was a desperate attempt to get his attention.

“Oh?” is all he replies, crossing something out on the page, writing a name above it.

It’s then that you realise, Oliver probably isn’t going to ever see you as something more. He’d only ever see you as someone to discuss Quidditch strategy with.

The realisation feels like a blow to the face, and you rock back in your chair from the force of it. You look at Oliver, but he hasn’t noticed a thing. Why would he? He’s bent over the strategy for next week’s match; figuring out the team’s weak points and thinking of solutions.

You blink fast; the sadness coursing through your body and bringing tears to your eyes. It felt as if your heart had been ripped out and smashed to pieces on the very floor of the common room for the entire house to lay witness to.

Yet for them, nothing has changed – they continue to talk, to study, to laugh.

For you, everything’s changed.

And the room is becoming too warm and the walls are becoming too close. It’s all too much, and you need to leave.

You need to get out now.

Clearing your throat, you whisper, “I’m going to bed, I’ll see you at some point tomorrow.”

Oliver waves still bent over the plan for next week. He didn’t notice the way your voice breaks, or how vague you were when saying goodnight.

Rising from your seat, you fight back the gathering tears until you’re in your room.

There, you let them fall in heart-wrenching, chest crushing sobs. Mechanically, you take off your robes and replace them with your pyjamas. Your blind to it all; the tears falling too thick and too fast for you to see clearly.

With your wand in your hand, you brokenly whisper a charm to close the curtains surrounding your four-poster bed, desperate for the privacy in which you could let yourself fall into your pit of despair and hopelessness.

You feel ridiculous for having fallen for someone who’s first love would always be a sport. You hide your face in your pillow; letting the cotton of your pillow case muffle the sobs that will not stop falling from your mouth.

--------

The morning brings sore eyes and sad looks from your dorm mates who had heard your muffled sobs and put two and two together pretty quicky. You smile at them, softly apologising, before taking your things to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

There you get a look at the damage. Your eyes already seem duller; the colour dimmed from the agony of your realisation.

Enough, you berate yourself. You have shed your tears, and now it was time to figure out the next move. As you’re brushing your teeth, you think over your options.

You could talk to Oliver but the idea of potentially ruining your friendship has you backtracking.

Running a brush through you hair, you have another idea. You could simply work to get over Oliver whilst maintaining the friendship. You had been friends for over a year before you started having feelings for the Scot; surely you could return to friendship, right?

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

Breakfast feels stilted and awkward on your end; you pick at your food; your appetite having disappeared overnight.

Oliver watches you with a funny expression on his face. His eyes flicker between your face and the full plate of food in front of you, “Sassenach, are you alright?”

You want to cry at the use of your nickname, “I’m okay, Oliver. Just not feeling very well.”

He reaches across the table and presses the back of his hand to your forehead; feeling for a fever or anything to explain this change, “You feel fine…” he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

You bat his hand away with a short laugh; your temper attached to a short fuse with how little sleep you got on account of crying late into the night, “Oh hush Oliver, you are a worrywart! I’ll be fine when I get to class.”

Oliver frowns at your outburst and at the way you bat his hand away from your forehead. He doesn’t get to air his concerns though; you grab your bag, taking a sip of the orange juice, “I’ll see you later on.”

For a long time after you leave, Oliver stares at the doors of the Great Hall wondering when exactly he had started to lose you.

-------

The week passes slowly; like trudging through the deepest mud.

Every time your mind slipped into a daydream with him featuring at the main character, you brought your focus back to the lesson and your work. If this carries on, I’ll have the highest grades in the year, you thought to yourself sarcastically.

You pull away gradually; protecting your heart from the inevitable heart break should Oliver ever find out about your feelings.

He makes it hard though; he continues to meet you outside classrooms and will always carry your bag whether the load was light or heavy – he always insisted. He carries on with the little touches and grabbing your hand at random parts of the day to pull your attention to something he’s noticed, and he always, always talks to you about Quidditch.

And all you want to do is scream at the teenager for making it so damn hard to fall out of love with him. For making it so hard to stop the racing of your heart or the daydreams from your mind. For making it so hard to stop the butterflies that erupted with each lopsided smile and his pronunciation of your nickname.

But you don’t; you remain silent, wondering if he’ll ever notice the shattered remains of your heart caged in your chest.

-----------

The day felt like it was going to be uneventful; if this what getting over Oliver felt like then you were tempted to ask for a refund.

Your lessons pass slowly; the Professor’s making it their aim to drag out the teaching material until the very last moment before NEWTs.

When the ball finally rings signalling lunch, you place your things in your bag mechanically, swinging it onto your shoulder as you leave the classroom.

You sigh as you notice there’s no sign of Oliver waiting for you. You blink back the sudden onset of tears; this was your call, you berate yourself.

You don’t see who grabs you until your pulled into an empty classroom.

You glare at the familiar brown eyes of Oliver Wood, “Oliver!”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” You state, head held high, eyes never leaving his.

“Bullshit,” He shouts, “You’re pulling away from me and I don’t know why.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. I miss you. What’s happened for you to pull away like this?” He asks, his voice breaking a little.

Hearing that break in his voice, you want to take him into your arms and apologise for letting him think the worst.

But your head overrules your heart.

“For Merlin’s sake, Oliver! How could you be so blind?” You cry out.

“Blind? To what?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for your next few words, “Oliver, I like you. As in more than a friend.”

His eyes widen as he takes you in with entirely new eyes.

The silence is deafening; it’s pressing down on you like a heavy stone. The weight of it making it somewhat hard to breathe. The longer he’s silent; the worse it gets for you.

“If you’re going to reject me, you better get on with it,” You snap; dread settling in your gut like a lead balloon making your short temper, shorter.

Oliver seems to shake himself out of his trance at your words, “Why would I ever do that?”

You throw your arms wide, your bag falling to the floor, “I don’t know… because you don’t feel the same?”

“But I don’t… I feel the same.”

Your arms drop to your sides, “What?”

Oliver nods, “I feel the same.” At your bewildered expression, he continues, “I thought you knew.”

“Oliver, you don’t notice anything unless it starts with the letter Q and ends in H.”

He frowns, “That’s not true!”

“Oh? Prove me wrong then, Wood.”

He grins at the challenge, “I noticed you. I haven’t noticed anything but you since we became friends. Merlin, (Y/N), I’ve been in love with you since Sixth Year when you told me to get myself together after we lost a match against Hufflepuff.”

His accent gets thicker the more he talks; he’s getting worked up and the brogue becomes something else.

“Since Sixth Year?” You interject, a small smile breaking out across your face.

Oliver nods, blush painting his cheeks.

You sigh out a breath of relief, “Thank Merlin, I’ve liked you since then too.”

“Then why were you pulling away?” He asks in a hurt tone.

You drop your eyes, “It was my way of trying to get over you.”

“Get over me?”

“It didn’t work!” You rush out at his hurt look, “I don’t think there’s any getting over you.”

Something resembling relief falls over his face, and your heart flutters at the sight of it.

Oliver takes your hand in his, tangling the fingers together. A simple action but one that held so much promise.

He takes a step closer to you; his other arm circling your waist.

You decide he’s taking too much time.

You drop his hand to wrap both arms around his neck pulling him down for the kiss you’ve both hungered for, for so long. He laughs in surprise, but his arms quickly circle around you, his lips responding to your hungrily.

“So you’ve always noticed me huh?” You ask when you finally pull away, a teasing lilt to your voice.

“Sassenach, how could I not?” is all he replies before kissing you once more.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​

[hotchley]

that’s when i could finally breathe

Me: oh yeah, I am definitely going on a fanfic writing break. Also me: this. 

As always, I have no idea what I’ve done. I really was taking a break, but then I was listening to Clean and... this happened. All of my pieces have been weirdly cathartic, and I think this one was just like: HAHA PROJECTION!!

I also did not proofread this, and wrote it in one day, so... do with that what you will :) 

Also, do not comment on my inability to come up with decent titles. I know. I know this is a terrible title, but I HAD NO BETTER IDEAS OKAY!!!

Word Count: 2289

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, funerals, death, past suicidal thoughts, grief, self-destructive behaviour (Hotch does not pull his hair out, but he does have thoughts about doing so)

read on ao3!

He has always found a sense of peace in the rain.

Where other people would run to try and find shelter, Aaron has always loved to just stand and let it soak through his clothes to his skin, chilling his bones and body. Haley had found it endearing as a teenager. 

As an adult, it had concerned her.

He could tell her it was nothing till he was blue in the face, but there was a sense of panic that came with looking out the window to see the clouds weeping, combined with her husband’s lack of presence in their apartment.

More than once, he would come home, shivering and teeth chattering, but smiling. She would force him to change, to wrap himself in a blanket, but he would usually be too dazed to do so without her assistance. He caught a cold more than once.

Jack has inherited his love for the rain. His love, like everything else about him, is childish and innocent though. A love for jumping in puddles and splashing his parents. A fascination with the different types of weather, and a love for the yellow coat that has a duck on the hood that was a gift from Penelope.

Aaron’s love for the rain can be described in one word. The same word Haley has always used to describe the way he loves everything. His love for the rain is complex. It is born from the best and worst moments of his life.

His love for the rain comes from the little boy that wore his heart on his sleeve. Who wanted nothing more than to turn the terrible things that happened into a story, and who just wanted to use his brain to find a reason for all the bad things that seemed to keep happening.

It rained the day of his father’s funeral. His mother and Sean shared an umbrella. Haley tried to get him to stand under hers, but he refused, choosing to stand in it, letting it numb the fire in his stomach. He didn’t shed any tears at the funeral. He had already mourned the death of his father. He had mourned when he was eleven, and learnt that his father did not love him. Not in the way he was meant to. Not in a way that was right.

The rain made it look like he was crying. It soaked his hair and dripped onto the collar of his coat, and when his uncle drove him and the last people that knew the truth about Mr Hotchner, his mother seemed to realise what he had been doing. She chastised him, but it was weak and with no real threat.

Aaron would confess to Haley, months later, that the rain had made him feel like he was being listened to. Like the God he had stopped believing in believed his father was a bad man, and the rain had been to disrupt the final event where anyone would truly care for him. The rain made him feel like there was a happy ending at the end of the tunnel waiting for him.

It made him feel like he could breathe again.

When Haley kissed him for the first time, it was raining. They had been running home from their date, not expecting the summer night to turn out like that, and he had paused because of the stitch in his side. 

She had turned around, laughing hysterically because of course this had happened. Of course their first date, which she had spent hours preparing for, Jessica styling her hair and convincing her the dress she had picked was perfect, ended in rain. With her hair coming loose from the pins she had slid into it. With Aaron’s shirt plastered to his skin. If she had stepped close enough, she could almost see the scars on his back. 

She wouldn’t ask though. Not today. 

He looked at her, slightly apologetic, and she was once again struck by just how pretty he was. His eyelashes were longer than she had first realised, and the rain seemed to drip off of them in a way she had only ever seen in the movies.

His hair was an untamed mess. Her heart had dropped a little when he rang her doorbell, because she liked the chaos of his usual style, and seeing it without a hair out of place made her feel like he was trying to be a different person. The rain had ruined it all though, and it now fell onto his forehead and stuck to his face in a way she loved.

To everyone else in their little town, he likely looked like the villain. Like the demon creeping in through the window to steal the beautiful princess away to their terrible castle. But Haley is not everyone else. And to her, Aaron looks like the dashing prince, ready to save the heroine from the terrible prejudice of her home.

So when he opened his mouth, probably to ask her if everything was okay, she took a step forward, placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. It was messy and wet and awkward, but it was their first. And it was special.

Her cheeks were flushed when she pulled away. Aaron just stared at her for a few moments, something like panic written all over his face. But then that panic gave way to something else, and Haley felt like she was watching someone realise they were in love.

It was more beautiful than she could’ve ever imagined. 

He smiled at her, still bashful after the events of the evening, and held his arm out to her. She took it, allowing him to walk her all the way to her front door, where he placed a single kiss to her cheek.

He laughed, once he was out of her line of sight. He laughed, and he ran through the puddles, splashing the water everywhere, and he let out loud cheers because the night was silent and only the stars were there to keep him company.

Haley Brooks liked him. No. She loved him.

It made him feel like he could live again.

The moment he felt clean, like the blood had been washed from his hands, like he could breathe again, like he could exist and not feel like there had been some massive mistake, it was raining. Haley had been dead for six months, and it had been six brutal months of cases, of processing his grief, of shutting down in front of the team.

Of teaching Jack that being sad was part of life, and that being happy did not mean he was forgetting Mom, or a terrible person. Of wishing there was someone to hold his hand, just for a moment.

Of flashing Jessica little smiles, because he had lost the first woman to love him the way love was supposed to be, but Jessica had lost her baby sister, and nothing was ever going to bring her back to life. Not his own self-destruction. Not his guilt. Not his pain. Not the way he threw himself into cases that caused the ink to blur before his eyes.

Not the way he was trying so hard to teach his son exactly what love was so he would grow up unafraid to jump in head first, and would always believe in its existence.

Jessica asked if Jack could stay with her for a few days. She had a break in between one project finishing and the next starting, and she was going to use it to look at some of the things Haley had left at her house. Aaron was yet to deal with the things in the house and in storage. He just couldn’t do it.

But Jessica wanted to start, and she wanted Jack to see some of the things. He spoke to Jack, and Jack’s therapist, about the trip, and when both people signed off on it, he packed his son a bag and dropped his son off at his aunt’s for the weekend.

The quietness of the apartment had a greater impact on him than he thought it would’ve. He had gotten used to the sound of Jack racing around. Of Jessica washing dishes. Of their quiet existences that left a mark on every inch on every wall of the convenient location that had somehow evolved into a home- something he thought he’d lost forever when Anderson handed him the divorce papers.

He couldn’t handle the silence. It was suffocating. It reminded him of his childhood house, and of walking on eggshells. It reminded him of the thirty-four days he felt in silence, recovering from stab wounds he wished had killed him, and mourning the loss of his family.

So he drives. And he drives. And he drives.

And he somehow finds himself at Gideon’s cabin. He’d only been there twice since he left the team. Once to pick Reid up once he had the strength to phone and say that he’d found a letter, but he didn’t know what he was meant to do, but Gideon was gone and he didn’t know why everyone always left. Once to pick Rossi up, after the case with the three children that ended with no real sort of justice.

Gideon left him a key. It was in the drawer of his desk, with no explanation. No letter. No apology. Hotch had taken it, and attached it to the keyring that held his house keys. He’d never used it though. 

Not before now.

Because that day, when he goes to Gideon’s cabin, he lets himself in. He walks through the different rooms, smiling at the small traces of his former mentor that still remain there, and the pieces of the other team members that have somehow found themselves a home in the various areas.

He exits out the back door.

Haley had taken him here once. After she found out she was pregnant, he was meant to step down and take a transfer. They’d had it all planned out. Then he’d gotten a phone call saying there was a case, and that case had been Adrian Bale so before he knew what was going on, he was pushed into the role of Unit Chief and trying to rebuild a team that was never meant to have been his.

She had taken him here to remind him of all the reasons he couldn’t leave. Of all the lives he would feel responsible for if he acted selfishly. And he had looked at her, with such love in his eyes, and agreed with her. It had been a quiet trip. A peaceful trip. A warm visit. They had been together, still the teenagers that linked hands during the final bows of their performance.

Haley was dead, and he was left to patch up his own pieces. The visit had been tense and silent, but the uncomfortable type, and even as he walked through the cabin, he wondered why exactly he had bothered coming here. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve, or what he thought this was going to do. He just knew it was something he needed to do.

When he stepped back out into the woods that surrounded the cabin, the rain started.

He had never believed in signs, not truly, but this one was too big to be anything but that. It was pouring. Enough to cause the branches to sag with the weight of water. Enough to create proper puddles that could be jumped in. Enough to remind him of the first time Haley had kissed him, and how that simple touch had brought him back to life. Enough to remind him of his father’s funeral, and how the feel of the cold had reminded he had no longer had to be afraid.

It was loud enough to drown out the sounds of people.

He had one chance to do this. One chance to see whether or not his love for the rain would still help him the way it always had.

He screamed. He fell to his knees, and he fisted his hands in his hair. He didn’t pull it out, but he tugged at it, and Haley wasn’t there to grip his hands till he could trust himself.

He screamed. And he cried. And he begged for an answer. And he shoved his blazer off, not even caring that his trousers were stained with mud that would likely never come out, and not giving a damn about the cold.

He screamed. Until his throat went dry and his words seemed to fade into nothing, not only because the rain swallowed his noises, but because he couldn’t be loud. 

He screamed until he was soaked and the rain had caused him to go numb and start shivering.

And then he turned around and walked back inside. As he passed the bathroom, something caught his eye. A towel he had thought he had just misplaced whilst on a case, and a hoodie he’d assumed he’d given to Sean and forgotten about. Almost like Gideon had guessed what he would be doing here, and wanted to apologise for what he had done.

Haley would not want him to get sick. Neither would Jessica. Neither would the team. Neither would Jack.

So he went into the bathroom, and he dried himself off, and he zipped the hoodie up. And then he took a final look around the cabin. He smiled to himself, knowing that, no matter what happens, the team will always have this as their safe haven.

He drives home, despite the rain.

It makes him feel like he could love again.  

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Can we pleaaaaaase have some chris freakout and kauri looking after him? Like maybe the first time chris ever really has a meltdown near kauri and kauri helps him or just freaks out himself just ahhhh i love these two

CW: Description of gunshot, PTSD flashback to parental death, meltdown, panic attack, some references to conditioning/pet whump, negative stimming

It’s just some asshole kids playing with fireworks, that’s all. That’s all it is, and Kauri would have been more careful, but he hadn’t known there was anything he needed to be careful for. 

He’s sitting on the grass at a park sending Jake texts to distract him from studying, playing a game they do sometimes where they tell a story with emojis alone and then the other one records a voice-text trying to guess what the story is, and then the other one says how much they got right. 

He brought Chris here because he discovered this park has a whole wood-and-metal adult playground, with uneven bars like the ones in the videos of gymnasts Chris watches on Jake’s laptop sometimes, plus a climbing wall and all kinds of things.

Chris is swinging back and forth with an easy sort of confidence, smiling to himself and occasionally checking to see if Kauri is looking as he swings himself up and over the bar, seems to hang in the air for a second despite the pull of gravity, and then back down again.

Like a pendulum, Chris swings for momentum, and then he lets go and catches the next bar, laughing, throwing his boundless, endless energy into the movements his body knows even though his brain doesn’t, and Kauri takes a second to watch him switch directions and swing back up onto the higher bar, throwing himself full-throttle, and he’ll come home scraped up and probably bruised and Kauri will have to explain to Nat that it’s impossible to want to stop him when he’s like this, all his soft nervousness shed in the pursuit of something that makes him - simply, and uncomplicatedly - happy.

Especially when he’d started out so sad.

In the parking lot nearby, a bunch of teenagers not much younger than Chris have been fucking around with fireworks the whole time. Boys with knobby elbows and an awkward self-consciousness bragging about who does the stupidest things, girls with long legs and braces laughing together, shining hair mixing in red and brown and blond as they lean into each other. 

Chris looked at them, when they first showed up, eight people stuffed into somebody’s two-door sports car climbing out like clowns at a circus, and Kauri saw the look on his face and knew it for what it was, the longing for a life he can’t get back.

He’s just a kid, and these are just kids, but there’s an ocean between them that Chris can’t overcome.

Even though he looks like them, has the same awkward gait, the same way of hunching his shoulders as if trying to be invisible, the same heavy, woe-is-me sighs and eye-rolls when he feels safe enough to push back at Nat and Jake like any other kid would... even though he looks like them, he isn’t them. 

He’s a teenager, and he has more in common with Kauri than he does anyone else. He and Kauri have a shared wealth of pain, and all he has in common with those kids now is that, once upon a time, he might have been like them.

But he wants to be like them still, it was written all over his face. 

Kauri hadn’t said anything. He’s not-... he’s not good at that, at bringing Chris out of himself. He’s not Jake, who Chris will rip himself open for, let out all his thoughts and let Jake rearrange the jumbled parts.

He’s not Nat, who can simply sense Chris’s need for a mother and give him one.

He’s not even Antoni, who can show his care somehow in simply the depth of feeling in his slightly narrowed eyes, the well of emotion he keeps there, that he doesn’t have to speak to show. 

He’s just Kauri.

He’s just here.

So he just let Chris have his moment, watched the wistfulness work itself across his expression, his soft slight rocking, listened to his low quiet hum. 

Kauri watched Chris make himself be silent, and go still, until the desire to fit in passed. He should have had an answer, some ready-made platitude or piece of comfort, but he didn’t. 

After a moment - two moments - three... Chris turned and went to the exercise equipment. It had taken a while, but he lost himself, eventually, in the movement, the swing of his body from one space to another, the strain of muscles pushed to their limits in ways he still loves.

Kauri watched him forget, after a while, and find happiness in what his body could do instead of what his brain can’t.

The kids had brought out fireworks from the trunk of the car, and Chris’s climb up a fake rock wall had a soundtrack of hissing and fizzing and pops. 

They must have pulled out the big stuff, eventually. 

Kauri’s lost in grinning as he looks at a return text from Jake when there’s suddenly a sharp, deafening crack in the air that makes Kauri jump nearly three feet, scrambling onto his feet out of sheer surprise.

He doesn’t hear the thump as Chris, mid-swing from one bar to another, tenses, misses the catch, and hits the ground flat on his back.

The teenagers cheer, clapping each other on the back, yelling fuck yeah do it again, and as Kauri catches his breath a second one goes off, a third, a fourth. They’re too close together, and there are people yelling at them to cut that shit out.

The kids laugh and shout and flip off the adults telling them to stop, emboldened by the adrenaline rush, by the sheer number of them, by the way a few other people are cheering happily, too.

Kauri’s heart races for reasons he can’t fathom and he snaps, “What the fuck, at least warn us, you little shits!”

“Fuck off!” A boy yells back, but he’s not the one who catches Kauri’s eye. One of the girls off to the side isn’t smiling anymore, but staring outright behind Kauri, eyes widening, and it’s not at the fireworks.

Another one goes off, the crack making Kauri’s ears ring all over again, but this time he hears the sound of a high-pitched cry of fear behind him and recognizes the voice.

Chris.

“Oh, shit,” The girl says, and it’s her voice that kills the sharp laughter of the boys, who look even as Kauri turns to see for himself. 

Chris, lying on his back on the ground, gasps for air that he can’t pull into his lungs, his hands up to his throat as if clawing at-

At his collar-

Kauri isn’t anything big - he’s not Jake, the hero who can hold off the terror of the light with the sheer size of his body, who will come home with a black eye and a broken rib and carry Chris up the stairs anyway. He’s not Nat with her hugs and blankets and ready dark spaces. He’s not Antoni, he’s not Leila he’s not Krista he’s not anything but Kauri, who can’t do anything, who breaks all his promises who can’t be trusted to be where he says he’ll be who isn’t a good person who isn’t trained for this-

Nobody is trained for this, Kauri hears Nat say inside his mind. She wasn’t talking about Chris, then, but-

Nobody has a map for how to walk out of hell, Kauri. But you’ve still got your compass. Go north.

He runs for Chris even as he hears other people start to notice, as Chris finally pulls in air and rolls onto his stomach, curling into a ball, hands over his head, as the first croaking breaths become louder and louder moans, rocking back and forth on the ground.

On more of the fireworks goes off and Chris screams, clapping his hands over his ears.

“Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit-” One of the teenagers says from behind Kauri, but he doesn’t even bother to tell them to go fuck themselves, he just drops to his knees next to Chris and puts a hand to his back. “Oh shit somebody’s gonna call the cops, what’s the fuck is wrong with-”

“I don’t know!”

“‘m sorry, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry sorry, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I moved, I, I, I I I-I, I moved, I moved, moved, shouldn’t move, no, no no no, no, no, no...” Chris’s voice is barely his own, it’s higher and lower at once, alternating between crying and the low moans, and he shudders at Kauri’s hand but doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, I’m, I’m I’m-I’m, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Chris,” Kauri whispers, but Chris doesn’t seem to hear him or react. The back of his shirt is layered with dirt over the black fabric, and it comes off on Kauri’s hand as he rubs frantic circles there, not knowing what to do, how to pull him out of himself. “You’re all right, nothing to be sorry for, come on, let’s, let’s get up-”

“Hey, is he, uh, he gonna be okay?” One of the teenagers has nervously edged up next to him, a boy with scraped up knees and long stringy hair. “We didn’t-... we were just screwin’ around, we didn’t think-”

“No, you sure fucking didn’t think, did you?” Kauri snaps, and the boy flinches back from the violent anger in his voice. Kauri doesn’t do angry, he’s scared of angry, but it bubbles up inside of him and he can’t stop it. “Did you think for a fucking second that you’re not the only assholes in the world? Huh?”

“Woah, um, we’re-... we’re sorry, dude, but-”

Chris groans and bangs his head into the ground, smacking his hands palms-down into the earth beneath him, wailing and Kauri has never heard him sound like this before. The words he was stammering before have somehow devolved entirely into the sounds, and Kauri’s heart pounds as he watches Chris pull so far into himself in fear that he has no idea how to get him out.

“Is he-... is he okay, or-”

“Does he fucking look okay?!” Kauri’s voice is so loud he’s suddenly scared of himself, and fights the urge to soothe, calm, appease, apologize, moving to get ahold of Chris’s hands as he pulls at his hair, holding them tightly, feeling the way Chris’s hands shake under his grip, trembling long fingers.

“Sorry,” The kid mumbles, and backs away to his friends, but one of the girls hasn’t run but come closer, and Kauri looks up to see there are people staring at them, men and women watching them, and Kauri-

He should run.

He should leave Chris here and run, this is a risk, people might call the cops, the cops might unclip his bracelet, he might get turned in. He should leave Chris here and call Jake to come get him and hide, and get away, and keep himself safe, and-

He tightens his grip on Chris’s hands and fights his own rising panic as hard as he can.

“Can I-... can I do anything to help?” The girl asks, leaning over with his hands on her knees, watching them. “To help him?”

“I don’t-... I don’t know,” Kauri answers, helplessly. “He’s never done this with me before. I don’t know what to do.” 

Chris rocks back and forth, not pulling away from Kauri’s grip, and looks up. His forehead is smeared with dirt from banging his head on the ground and his eyes are full of tears and fear and guilt. “No,” He moans, closing them again, tears cutting tracks through the dust and dirt on his cheeks. “No, no, no... no, no... no, no, no...”

“I’ll... I’ll get-... I’ll get a damp cloth or something,” The girl says, hesitantly. Her friends are loading back into the car in a hurry, and they call out to her but she ignores them, her own jaw set, running for some public bathrooms a hundred feet away and pulling her hoodie off as she goes.

The car full of kids pulls out, all but spinning their tires in their hurry to escape the consequences. But two others have stayed, one boy and one girl, and they move to Kauri’s side, too.

A man and woman who were walking their dog come over as well, and Kauri feels them pressing in on all sides, closing off his avenues of escape. He could still run. He could still go. He can still leave-

But he can’t leave Chris.

“The sound of the fireworks did that?” The man with the dog on a leash asks, and Kauri nods, not trusting himself to speak, letting go of Chris so he can take his face in his hands, and Chris looks at him but doesn’t see him. 

He’s not Jake. He’s not Nat. He can’t do this. He doesn’t know how to help anyone else, he can barely take care of himself, he doesn’t know anything and he’s the stupidest fucking person Chris could ever need help from-

You have to stop letting his voice sound like yours, Kauri.

“Chr-... Chris,” Kauri manages, his voice trembling. Anyone could call the cops of them, anyone could suspect. His body screams at him to run, to get away, to leave Chris, to go to find somewhere new to find somewhere safe to hide. It takes everything he has to stay right where he is, rubbing Chris’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “Chris, can you hear me?”

Chris, eyes still closed, leans into the touch of his hands, and it’s not an answer, but Kauri has to hope he’s trying. 

“Okay. We-... we need to get out of here, Chris, okay? I need-... I need to get out of here.”

No, this isn’t what will make Chris feel better. He can’t do this.

He has to do this.

“You’re okay. Um, um, can you-... can you open your eyes and look at me?”

There’s a long pause, and Chris’s coppery eyelashes rise, wide green eyes stare past Kauri with terror and only slowly seem to focus on him. “I’m, I’m so sorry,” He whispers, lips pulling back from his teeth, face reddened and dirty. “’m so, so, so so so so, so, so-... so, so sorry, so, so sorry-”

“Sssshhhhh, it’s okay. You’re all right. It was just some fireworks, it’s okay.” The girl reappears with the sleeve of her hoodie soaked with water from the water fountains, and Kauri takes it when she holds it out with a faint smile and uses the sleeve to wipe the dirt from Chris’s face, to cool the flush of his skin. “I know you’re scared. I’m going to call someone to come get us, all right?”

“No, no, no, no-no, no, no one’s, no one’s c-coming,” Chris whispers, whimpers really, and he moves forward to collapse against Kauri, rocking into him, burying his head into Kauri’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. “I, I, I waited all, all, all-all night, no one’s coming, no one, no one’s c-coming, nobody, no one, and they g-got-... so c-cold-...”

Kauri hitches in a breath and slides his arms around Chris, letting the girl take her hoodie back, aware - too aware - of the growing crowd around them. Chris’s words devolve again, fall apart into moaning sobs, tears soaking the fabric of Kauri’s t-shirt, his fingers twisting and clutching into the cotton, pulling, rocking, in constant motion even now in the guilt twisted up in his fear. 

“They, they got s-so cold,” Chris whispers, and Kauri looks slowly up at the man with the dog, who is staring wide-eyed down at them. “So, so, so, she got so, she got s-so cold-”

“Holy fuck,” The woman next to the man says. Her face is ash under her skin, gray around the edges.

Anyone could call the cops of them right now. He doesn’t know that they haven’t yet. Sirens could start any moment, or maybe WRU will just come themselves with a big white van and needles and it will all be over, everything he fought to build of himself, because of Chris.

No. That’s not fair.

He chooses to care, that’s what he does, that’s who Kauri is. He cares, and he... has to be stronger than he is scared.

Kauri steadies his voice, holding Chris as tightly at he can, trembling against him. “I need you to call a number for me,” He says, carefully. 

The man nods, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, uh, sure. What’s-... what number-”

“Call...” Kauri closes his eyes. “Call 555-4467, and tell the person who answers that... that Kauri needs her here now. And... that it’s not for me.”

Jake’s too far away, an hour even by car from one side of the city to the other, and he doesn’t even have his own car, yet, he’s still saving. Nat’s too far away, the safehouse is a half-hour at least. The only person he can think of on this side of town...

She won’t help, she’d never, she’d-

Nat’s voice, in his mind, a memory of her calmly reminding him, you have a compass, Kauri, and it’s gotten you this far. What does your intuition tell you?

His experiences tell him to run and don’t look back.

His fear tells him she’ll hang up the phone.

His intuition tells him she’ll come.

The man nods and dials, and Kauri closes his eyes and holds Chris tightly, listens to his words, lets him wail into his shoulder as the man and woman warn everyone else away, the remaining teenagers get Chris drinks of water from the water fountain that he takes with only the barest sense that he even sees them there at all. 

It takes twelve minutes from when Jenna gets the call to when her car pulls up at the park.

She walks out to them, over the grass, and Kauri has himself tensed and ready for the latest barrage of loathing, but all Jenna says is, “Can you get him to stand up on his own?”

“I-I don’t know,” Kauri says, and slides his hands under Chris’s arms. Chris clutches him more tightly, shaking his head, refusing to let go, and Kauri takes a breath and slowly shifts back onto his heels, half-standing, half-pulling Chris up with him. The man with the dog rushes forward to help, and so does one of the teenagers. “He heard those really loud fireworks and just... lost his shit, I just-”

“Yeah,” Jenna says, voice flat and pointedly uncaring. She gets Chris’s other side once he’s up, and Kauri thanks the people who stayed with them, tells the teenagers he hopes they get home safe.

The girl who first saw Chris only shrugs. “Not a thing. I’ve got a phone and a mom, we’ll get home, she’ll come get us.”

Chris hiccups and whimpers, and Kauri and Jenna move him to Jenna’s car. They get Chris to lay down in the backseat with his head on Kauri’s lap, Kauri’s hand running through his hair. Kauri closes his eyes, and says, softly, “Listen, Jenna, I wouldn’t-... wouldn’t have called if-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jenna says, pulling away from the parking spot without looking in the rearview mirror, without looking to see Kauri in her backseat. 

“I... I really wouldn’t have called you but nobody else is on this side of town, and-”

“I said don’t worry about it.” Jenna rolls her eyes. “Back to Nat’s place? That’s where this kid is staying, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Chris sniffles against him, and Kauri shushes him softly, carding fingers gently through his sweaty hair. Jenna drives, taking the long way, the winding curves around the city to throw off anyone who might try to follow them. Kauri’s phone vibrates and he wonders, suddenly, how many texts Jake has sent that Kauri never answered. 

“So I guess you can be s-something other than a bitch when you want to be,” Kauri says, voice shaking, as close as he can get to a thank-you with her.

Jenna snorts, and briefly meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Bitches don’t get taken back,” She says, firmly. “We stay free. I’d rather be a bitch to Romantics than a pet, get it?”

“Got it,” Kauri says, but this is still probably the nicest she’s ever been to him, and he calls it a victory. “Why are you-... why did you agree to come?”

“Because of what that guy said. He mentioned it was fireworks. That’s why I’m here.”

Kauri’s eyebrows furrow. “Yeah... fireworks set him off. The big ones that crack really loud.”

Jenna is silent for a while, and then says softly, “Gunshots.”

“What?”

“There’s gunshots in that kid’s head. If he doesn’t remember them when he comes back, they’re from before, from whatever got him to sign himself up.”

“How do you know?”

Jenna makes a turn and drives over the big bridge through the center of the city, sunlight shining on water on either side, the swooping cables of the bridge making curving shadows inside the car. 

“Because,” She says, heavily, “There’s gunshots in my head, too.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[thedeathdeelers]

Julie x Luke Fic

ok i did it

i finished the song inspired fic (my first attempt at writing Juke lols) (also my longest fic posted to date?? over 2k?? what)

find it here on my AO3, otherwise under the read more cut below :)

let me know what you think!

————

i’ll go wherever you will go

JULIE

Saturday morning found Julie wide awake tossing and turning at 7:30am. Which was odd to say the least, as Julie definitely enjoyed a good lie in just as much as the next person.

She tried to go back to sleep, snuggling in deeper under her covers, tucking her hands under her cheek, and even switching positions a few times.

But still nothing.

Finally giving up on sleep by 7:50am, Julie jumped out of bed, planning to head straight to the studio. Her mind had switched on the moment she first opened her eyes, whirling with lyrics and melodies for a new potential anthem.

So she slipped on her large bear claw slippers, and padded her way through the still quiet house, gently opening and shutting the front door behind her.

She slowly walked down the path to the studio, fully aware that the boys would not be back from whatever it is teenage ghosts who don’t sleep do all night.

Julie pushed passed the doors of her mom’s studio, leaving them ajar, hoping to let in the cool morning breeze. She headed straight for the couch, where lay Luke’s (and now hers as well, she supposed) songbook.

She plopped down, enjoying the worn out feel of the leather and the softened cushions, dragging the book over & onto her lap. Flipping it open, she rifled through the pages, humming quietly under her breath, looking at all of the recent songs she & Luke had written together. It was routine for her to do a little recap of their joint material before she reached the empty pages, where she would start on something new.

She was just about to flip past their latest work, paper crinkling under her fingers, when something fell out from between the pages, fluttering to the ground. She looked down, brows pulling together, to find a folded piece of paper on the floor next to her cladded feet.

Curious, and fully aware that she had only just held this notebook in her hands yesterday, Julie leaned forward over her knees and picked up the scrap of paper, and unfolded it.

It was in covered Luke’s familiar scratchy handwriting, covered in words and notes and melodies, just like the rest of their shared songbook (albeit looking slightly more organised). Scratching at her scalp in confusion, Julie brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she brings the wrinkled paper closer for her to read.

But just before she does, she allows herself to breathe in deeply, eyes closing as the scent that is purely Luke invades her senses, enveloping her in a kind of warmth that vaguely reminds her of happy summers past.

She only gives herself a few seconds of self-indulgence, before she pulls the paper away from her face, sitting up a little straighter. Opening her eyes, she focuses on the words in front of her, scanning through the first few lines.

A gasp breaks through the silence in the studio as Julie starts to process the meaning behind the song.

She was reading a love song.

Her brain takes a second to comprehend, and another to fully process and kick in.

A love song written by Luke. And there was a very big chance that it was written with her in mind.

Love songs weren’t entirely a new territory for them - they had experimented with a few ever since they performed Stand Tall. But this one was a fully fleshed out song, with an underlying tone that was so heartbreaking, Julie could already feel her heart squeezing tight in her chest as tears start to push past her eyelids and down her cheeks.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

A sob clawed its way out, breathing ragged as Julie clutched tighter at the piece of paper in her hand, her eyes squeezing shut. He must have written this when they thought they were going to move on.

She presses her free hand, now shaking, against her mouth, failing to stop the new stream of oncoming sobs from breaking out.

Even now, with the boys being physically present in her life, uncertainty still reared it’s ugly head. She would be bobbing her head along to music, working on her algebra homework, or lying in bed scrolling through Instagram, and it would hit. She’d suddenly be very aware of the fear of losing her new found family, of losing him, unsuspectingly crawling its way back up from where it was buried deep down, engulfing her in a haze that wouldn’t let up.

Trying to bring herself back to the present, Julie shakes her head, eyes opening back up. She tries to refocus on the words in front of her, even as her vision continued to blur.

If I could, then I would

I’ll go wherever you will go

Way up high, or down low,

I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I’ll find out

The way to make it back someday

To watch you, to guide you,

Through the darkest of your days

I hope there’s someone out there

Who could bring me back to you

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go whenever you will go

If i could make you mine

i’ll go wherever you will go

“Jules?”

She was so taken by the words on the paper, so absorbed in the world the words were creating, that she hadn’t noticed Luke appearing into the studio.

Startled, she lifts her head, hair shifting and falling back over her shoulders as her eyes meet his.

LUKE

Luke had spent his night just as he always did: Roaming around the streets of Hollywood, constantly checking out new bands, new music - desperately trying to keep up with the music scene that constantly seemed to be changing.

Him and the boys had made a pact that they would always take advantage of their time back on Earth, whether spending it with loved ones (Alex tried to sneak off and see Willie whenever it was possible; Reggie liked to stick around the Molina house, following Ray and Carlos around), or spending it enriching their already deep knowledge of music.

And although he genuinely enjoyed spending his nights exploring the music scene with his boys, Luke always found himself itching to head back to their studio. Itching to head back to Julie. Some could call it pathetic (Alex), but he was over caring.

After having thought that he had somehow lost her, being forced to cross over or join some megalomaniac’s house band forever, he was through trying to act coy. He was head over heels in love with Julie Molina, and that was that.

Which meant that as soon as he deemed it late enough to head back, he left the boys on their way to meet Willie at some singer’s pool, and poofed back home (home. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?).

He was expecting the Molinas to still be asleep, hoping he’d be able to get a few hours’ worth of songwriting in before he’d be joined by a sleepy Julie.

What he hadn’t expect was to find a hunched over Julie, sat on their couch looking small as her eyes shone with freshly shed tears.

Luke quickly crossed the space between them, nearly jumping over the coffee table in his rush to get to her. He fell onto the couch next to her, reaching out to grab her hand in his. As was his routine whenever he’d held her hand, his thumb started to lightly trace over her knuckles, trying to soothe her the only way he knew best: by touch.

“Jules? Julie, what’s wrong? What happened?” He searched her face, futilely trying to make sense of the red rimmed eyes and the tear streaked cheeks. He was so preoccupied by the fresh batch that had started to spill over that he hadn’t noticed the cause: the now crumpled piece of paper wrapped up in Julie’s trembling fist.

But Julie would only shake her head at him, staring back with wide and glistening eyes.

Luke shifted, twisting his body to fully face her, extending his free hand towards her face to gently cup her cheek. The need to touch was just as much for her as it was for him. If he had a beating heart, it would be trying to hammer its way out of his chest. He needed something to ground him, to calm him down so he can focus, and nothing did that better than the girl sitting in front of him.

“Do you- do you want to talk about it?” He tried to regulate his voice, making it softer, tilting his head slightly to get closer to her eye level. He’d let her decide if she wanted to talk. He knew from personal experience what it felt like to want to let the tears and emotions pour out, without feeling the need to speak them out loud.

And yet - the lack of reaction on her part was worrying him. She still wouldn’t say a word, not even another shake or nod of the head - just staring at him with a mix of grief and wonder shining from her eyes. He didn’t know what to do with that.

But just as he was about to slide back a little, give her some space, he saw her lift her free hand, fingers curled tight into a fist, holding it up in front of him.

He looked at her questioningly for a second, before the hand that was still resting on her cheek moved to brush at her closed fist. At the contact, her fingers seemed to relax, easing the pressure on her knuckles. She slowly unraveled what was in her hand, dropping it in the palm of his.

As soon as he saw the crumpled piece of paper he understood.

She had found it.

His song. To her.

His farewell song.

He‘d completely forgotten he had hastily slipped it back into his songbook yesterday after their session.

He had planned on leaving the song in her dream box, where she was to find it after they had crossed over - a little piece of him, of his heart, of his soul, left behind for her to hold whenever needed.

But then they had stayed. And hugged. And laughed and hugged some more. And he figured she didn’t need to know about the sad love song he had written her.

So he had snuck back into her room late last night while she was asleep, and quickly grabbed it, shoving it into his songbook, with plans to properly dispose of it at a later time.

Too late for that now.

“Jules - I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to find this.” He scratched the back of his neck, song still in hand, unsure of how to navigate the conversation. He let out a long breath, trying to find the right words to explain to her.

“I wanted to leave you something that would always remind you of me - something personal, that no one’s seen or heard before. Just a little keepsake that you could go back to and read whenever you needed it.” His hand dropped into his lap with a soft thud, sound muted by the deafening quiet of the studio.

He chanced a look at her face, to find her still staring at him. Fortunately (he hoped), he could see the tears had stopped.

“I didn’t want to leave, knowing things might have been left unsaid. I figured I wouldn’t be as lucky next time round.” He tried for a weak laugh, but knew it wasn’t going to work. So he tried again.

“It uh- it was in your dream box. I know you said not to go near it, but I swear I just dropped the song in there and closed it. I didn’t snoop. Scout’s honour.” He did a little salute, two fingers held up, despite the fact that they both knew he was never a boy scout. He even tried a little shy smile, hoping she’d react to something. Anything.

And yet, still nothing.

Did she hate it? Did she think he was overstepping her boundaries? Did the song make her uncomfortable? He was starting to panic, even as he still felt her warm hand resting in his.

He let out a deep breath and tried again.

“I’m sorry, Julie, please, just talk to me. Let me know if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I-I-I’ll stop. We can burn the piece of paper and just forget this ever happened just please- say something.” He was pleading her, eyes solely focused on hers as he tried to gauge any type of reaction from her.

“You think I’m crying because it made me uncomfortable?” Her voice was so low, he nearly missed it.

He was not expecting her to start with that. But unexpected reactions were better than nothing.

“I- I don’t know Julie. You’ve been quiet from the moment I poofed in here. I don’t know what to think. But I’m so-“

“Please. Please Luke, stop apologising.” She shook her head, voice hoarse. Her lips twitched at the edges, the first signs of movement on her face since he approached her.

“This song- I-“ She swallowed, trying to dislodge the emotions wedged in her throat. Her eyes flickered from his lap, to the song and back up to his.

“Luke this- this is the most beautiful song you’ve ever written. I haven’t even looked at the music accompanying it and it’s already my favourite piece of music ever.”

Her voice hitched, as she tried to control her feelings. She cleared her throat, continuing.

“I cried because the emotions, the feelings that have been building up for a while now, all came crashing down on me at once. The fact that I really was this close to losing you guys,” she lifted her hand and touched his jaw, letting her fingers trail his cheek. “To losing you.”

Luke lifted his hand, covering hers.

“I’ll always be by your side Julie. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure of it. You know that.” His lips quirked into a half smile, recalling the words he had uttered the night they thought was their last.

“Could you- Could you play this for me?”

That surprised him. He wasn’t expecting her to want to revisit the song for a while. He lifted his brows as he tried to read her clear brown eyes.

“You sure you want to hear it now? We have all the time in the world. We could leave it for another day?“

She shook her head, the first real smile that morning, finding its way on her lips.

“No, I’m sure. I want to hear you sing it while I- while I can hold you close.”

His non-beating heart stuttered at her words, even as he tried to (unsuccessfully) keep the joyfully surprised expression from showing too much on his face.

“Alright.”

He got up quickly to grab his guitar and then immediately headed back to sit down next to his brown eyed wicked beauty.

Hm, that title had potential.

No Luke, focus.

He started tuning his six-string as Julie settled herself more comfortably against his side on the sofa. Her arm snaked its way around his back as she squeezed herself closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, trying to savour this feeling, this moment, committing it to memory, before he opened them back up and prepared himself to start playing the song he never thought he’d get the chance to perform.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

He could already feel the tears soaking their way through his shirt sleeves, as Julie’s hand clenched, her arm tightening her hold onto him. He fought through the need to comfort her, willing himself to finish playing her his song. He was baring his soul to her; the least he could do was do it right.

I know now, just quite how

My life and love might still go on

In your heart, in your mind

I’ll stay with you for all of time

He was nearing the end of the song, strumming through the last verse before he reached the altered chorus, bringing his emotions to an all time high. He sneaked a quick peak at Julie, her eyes closed as the tears continued to spill.

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go wherever you will go

If I could make you mine,

I’ll go wherever you will go

I’ll go wherever you will go

And with the last strum of his guitar, the final note softly fading into the quiet of the studio, Luke shifted for the first time since he started playing her the song. He gently moved the guitar from his lap, placing it against the side of the sofa. Turning back around, he then fully enveloped the other half of his soul in his arm, bringing her even closer to her rightful place in his heart.

FIN

[officialsimppage]

-Why you, Why now-

this is based off of 4x24 amplification. i just changed it up a bit ya know :0. Warnings: anthrax infection, sappy love talk, crying, mentions of being nakey nakey. 

“Spence baby, have you seen my mug?” I say frantically looking around our apartment. I look in our room, in the bathroom, and in the living room. 

“Darling, it’s in your hand.” Spence says looking at me confused. I laugh at myself  and I walk outside the apartment locking it, and leaving with Spence. We are both a little freaked out since it is our first day back in 2 weeks. It’s been stressful.

 We just got back from our honeymoon in a small town in Italy. It was the absolute best being married. It brought us closer and bonded us for life. We loved Italy, don’t get me wrong, but we just missed home. We couldn’t stand being far away for too long. Our jobs as well.

 It can be horrifying, but it's the small rewards that get us up in the morning. Seeing parents and families get closure, reuniting people and children with their parents. It warms our heart and makes up for the evil side of it. 

We walk down the stairs towards Spencers car and he opens the car door for me and says, 

“Are you ready to go back?” closing the door and walking over to the drivers side of the car, stepping in. 

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” I say looking up at him. 

“Mk. Let's go then.” He says leaning in to give me a kiss, I then smile and look out the window as we drive to work.  

We walk into the building hand in hand, people congratulating us as we walk. We step into the elevator and I press the button with the number 6. We sit in silence for most of the elevator ride. When it dings Spencer looks at me with eyes that say, ‘You ready?’ I nod and walk out. 

Right when we enter the BAU, our eyes are swamped with soldiers and military officials. A million things run through my mind. Worries fill me from head to toe thinking about the million things that could have happened. We then see Penelope running up to us. 

“Ahh! Look! It’s the lovely married couple!” she says engulfing us in a signature Garcia hug. “How was Italy? Was it fun and eventful?” she says wiggling her eyebrows. I push aside her questions and ask, 

“Penelope, what is going on,” I say with worried eyes, making eye contact with her. 

“Oh, it's horrible. There’s been um,” she says pausing looking around the room. “An anthrax attack.” she whispers. Right as she says it, I figure out what we're dealing with. I worked with terrorists and chemical attacks. It's not fun. 

“Shit, well this is welcoming.” Spencer says looking around the room, seeing all the new military people crammed in the bullpen. 

“Yeah, sorry guys,” Penelope says, handing us our files. “But Hotch wants you at the round table now.” she says with a sad smile. I just respond with a shaky nod, gripping Spencer's hand tighter as we walk up the stairs to the round table. 

Right as we walk in, everyone faces us and runs. They engulf us in hugs and kisses. With questions asking us about the trip, congratulating us, and telling us how proud they are. Then, the happiness is put aside when a doctor named Linda Kamura walks in with medication, telling us they may be helpful if we are exposed. 

I take the pills down my throat with a swig of water afterwards. We look over the files, trying to put together a beginning profile for what we think is happening. I then finally focus when Hotch tells us to do and where to go. 

“Spencer and Y/N, go to the hospital and interview one of the victims. Rest of you, help put together a profile.” He says with a stern voice, and Spencer and I head with Dr. Kamura out the door and into one of the SUV’s to be driven to the hospital. 

I stay unfocused and out of it for the beginning of the car ride. I have a deep feeling in my gut that I should just jump out of this car and run home, knowing this isn’t going to end up good. I have always trusted my gut with everything I’ve done with my life. I want to just go home but I can’t. I need to stay and do my job. I need to help save other people. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Spence say,

“Hey you ok? You look uneasy?” putting his hand on my thigh. 

“Yeah yeah, I just have a feeling that things aren’t going to end well today.” I say looking up at him, knowing my eyes have a glaze of tears over them. 

“Yeah, me too honey.” He whispers, pulling my head into his shoulder. I lay my head there, and just inhale his comforting scent. Trying to escape into a different reality. 

I lay my head on Spencer's shoulder for the whole car ride. We pull up to the hospital after a 30 minute long drive. I get out and stretch, already exhausted, even though I haven’t done anything. We walk in and get our badges out to show the doctors and police, to let us in and interview. 

I walk in and see the girl, Abby. She looks absolutely dreadful. All these machines hooked up to her, her face drained of color, and a red nose from all mucus. I let Spencer handle the interview, me, just listening and taking mental notes. She talks about how she and her friend were just on a normal bike ride around the park. They were just being teenagers. Until they got home and in the evening, they started feeling symptoms. And eventually, coughing up blood. It sounds utterly horrible and painful. She then starts slurring her words, Spencer is visibly confused until the Doctor states, 

“Slurring speech, one of the last symptoms before death.” with a pained face. Spencer just looks utterly shocked. Saddened as well. Mostly on how it worked so fast, but as well as who would want to do this to innocent citizens? He then says goodbye, and gets well soon, as he walks out of the room. 

“It's absolutely horrible Utterly and horrifically evil.” I say as we start walking out of the hospital. 

“I know, who would want to do this?” he says looking at me. 

“That’s what we have to find out.” I tell him as we dreadfully get back in the SUV, heading back to the BAU.

When we walk back into the bullpen after our visit to the hospital, it's busier than ever. People everywhere trying to prevent and predict the next attack. When we walk back up into the round table room, they are watching a video of a senate meeting with a man yelling at them about emergency preparedness. 

“What's this?” I ask, then everyone turns to face us. 

“It’s a clip of a doctor. He might be a suspect.” Derek says to us. He then resumes his focus to what is on the screen. We watch the man violently attack the senate. I can see why he could be a suspect. He is obsessed with making sure people are prepared for something like this. He is definitely in the right mindset to do this.

“Are we going to investigate him?” I ask crossing my arms, just wanting this day to be over. 

“I think so. You Reid and Morgan go to his house, check it out and contact us if you find anything out of the ordinary.” Hotch says calling some people. We then walk out, and make our way out of the building. As we walk up to the cars, we get a text from Hotch telling us where the address is. It ends up being only 15 minutes from the FBI headquarters. 

When we pull up to the large house, we knock on the door to see if anyone is home. When nobody answers, we start to look around. Knowing we can since we have a warrant. We walk around taking in the house. It’s a very nice house, actually. Filled with rose bushes and sheds. We were all walking together until I saw a shed and walked off towards it, leaving Spencer and Morgan to continue to search on their own.

Once I walked in, I knew it was a lab. It was full of micrscopes and peteri dishes. I then bump into a desk and I hear glass shatter. I turn behind me and see a glass bottle with a biohazard sign on it, spilled. The contents, a fine white powder. The first thing that comes to my mind is none other than anthrax. I then hear Derek and Spencer yelling my name. 

“Shit shit shit! No not today,” I say as I run over to the sliding glass door to close it. Right before I lock the door Derek and Spencer walk through the door to the shed. 

“Do not come in here.” I shout sternly. They immediately get worried looks on their faces. 

“Why Y/N? What’s wrong? Did something happe-” Then, Spencer stops talking once he looks on the floor and sees the white powder on the floor. 

“Shit Y/N,” Derek says massaging his forehead with his hands. 

“Y/N baby, no NO! You let me in there right now or I swear to god,” He yells banging on the door, tearing up right away. 

“I’m sorry baby I can’t do that.” I say tearing up myself. I put my hand on the glass, and he puts his hand on mine. He then whispers to me, 

“I’m not leaving you alone.” tears streaming down his face. 

“Hey it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m going to be fine ok? I’m just gonna look around and see if I can find out if he truly did this because I see two totally different desk setups. I’m also gonna look for the antidote ok?” I say trying to calm him down. 

“O- Ok,” He says, stuttering a bit from crying. “I love you.” He adds, looking up at my eyes. 

“I love you too,” I respond. “Now Derek call Hotch and tell him I’m going to investigate from the inside.” I say already starting to look around. 

“Shit, ok. God Y/N and whatever you do,” He says pointing at me. “Do not die on us.” Getting teary himself. 

“I promise.” I say holding up a pinky. They then walk out to call Hotch and to  get a hazmat team out here. While they do that, I begin to inspect everything and think of how to solve this. Ok ok, so there are two desks here, I think. One of them is extremely messy and the other is very neat and tidy. Has to be two different people. I start to wonder, as a professor, they’re could be many ways there are two different people working together. Either it’s an assistant, or a coworker, or maybe he even opens up his lab to students. I then start to drift away from that and think about the antidote. 

Antidote. For something so deadly, they can’t make the antidote obvious. It has to be like an unsuspicious household item. Right as I’m about to start looking around, I see Dr. K walking in with a hazmat suit. She asks me, 

“How are you holding up? Do you need anything? How are you feeling?” walking up to me and inspecting my face and body language. 

“I feel fine actually. My throat is just a little dry.” I knew that was a lie as soon as I said it. I have been wheezing and having chest pain. I just can’t break through this hard tough exterior. I need Spencer to see me strong. I tell her my theory of how the antidote isn’t going to have ANTIDOTE on it in big red letters, it's going to be in something non suspicious. We then begin to walk around, tearing apart different things looking for where the antidote could be. Spencer then walks up to the glass door yelling my name. 

“Spencer what is it?” I ask, running towards the door. 

“Oh my god Y- Y/n, you look horrible.” He says putting a hand on his mouth. 

“Well thanks for the confidence boost,” I say snickering a bit. Trying to make light of the situation.

“Gosh even when you’re infected with a deadly poison, you’re still you.” He says putting his hand on the glass, tears streaming down his face. 

“Spencer I’m going to be okay. But I’m telling you this to hopefully calm you down. I love you to the moon and back Spencer. You are the light of my life, the love of my life. I cannot imagine my life without you. Or me or you leaving each other early. We’re going to stay together for the rest of our lives. We’re going to have baby geniuses! We're going to be ok, I’m going to be ok.” I say crying a bit myself. 

“God, that did not help,” he says, wiping away tears. Me chuckling a bit through the tears. “Just, why you and why now.” He says making eye contact with me. 

“I don't know. But all I know is that I’m going to be ok and that I’m going to get out of this. I love you Spencer.” I say kissing my hand, and then touching my hand to the glass. 

“I love you too.” He says repeating the action I did. We are then interrupted by Dr. K asking, 

“Could this be the antidote? It’s an inhaler. It could work, and it's not too suspicious,” holding up a bag with a yellow inhaler in it. 

“Yes, yes! Good job that, that could be it!” I say laughing then coughing roughly. Hunching over, letting it all out. 

“Ok ok, agent let’s get you out of here and into the hospital.” she says partially carrying me over to where they have people ready with hoses inside of a sealed off area. They start spraying me with the water and then I see Spencer and Derek walk in. 

“How are you holding up pretty girl?” Derek asks me. 

“I’m doing good, but you can um go.” I say shrugging a bit. 

“No, I am seeing you off to the hospital. I helped put you into this mess.” He says looking at me crossing his arms. 

“No uh seriously. Leave. They’re about to strip me naked to wash me down and, I think that’s something only Spencer can see.” I say. His eyes then widen and he nods and walks out. I then begin to unbutton my shirt and take off my skirt. Spencer just is sobbing silently, watching me being so vulnerable being hosed down whispering, “It should have been me, It should have been me,” like a chant. They then put a hospital gown on me and put me on a stretcher. Right before they take me into the ambulance Spencer yells, 

“I love you!” looking at me laying on the stretcher, half dead. I start to yell that I love him back but then, I start coughing up blood. Well shit that isn't good. The Dr. then tells the ambulance driver to hurry up. And then she asks, 

“How are you feeling?” putting a stethoscope to my chest.

“I uh feel flime. Feel fum yoj now?” Shit Im slurring. Well this is fun. Her face is then drained of color, yelling at the driver to go even faster. After that moment, I feel my eyes shut.

The first thing that comes to me is my hearing. I hear the steady beat of the monitor, and the shuffling from the hospital. I then open my eyes to see blinding lights. I then turn my head to see Spencer reading. 

“Why aren’t you reading to me?” I ask, smiling at him. 

“Oh my god thank the lord you're awake.” He says standing up and giving me a hug. I chuckle a bit, weakly hugging him. “I- I thought I was going to lose you..” He says looking down at my left hand, looking at the ring he put on it. 

“You couldn’t get rif of me that fast,” I say pulling his head up to look at me. 

“I love you.” I say grabbing his left hand, fidgeting with his wedding ring. 

“I love you too Y/N.” he says, leaning in and kissing my cheek.

[floofywritings]

Hands & Hearts: Gilbert x Fem!Reader (Soulmate AU)

(A/N: Wow it’s been a while since I’ve written anything - excuse the rambling! It’s been about two years since I’ve done this, but enjoy :))

It had been four years - four entire years since your father had kept you inside. You had not met another soul your age for 1460 days, and the words carved on your forearm stayed grey. 

They had appeared suddenly in a beautiful cursive script, the first words your soulmate would say to you after your 12th birthday, as they did for everyone, and your 12th birthday was the last day you stepped foot out of your house. 

You never truly knew why you weren’t allowed out. Your mother had lost her battle with herself - and had broken your father in the process -  and she was his only true soulmate. Your father just wanted to keep you safe from the heartbreak your soulmate could cause you, but in the most isolating way possible. 

Every day you would watch as the children in Avonlea ran past your kitchen window, laughing with each other as they went off to school. Then the older teenagers, some who had already found their other half, walking with their hands and hearts intertwined, some walking with friends, content as they were, and some completely alone.

All you wanted was a normal life - going out in the chilly mornings for school, giggling with your friends as you gossiped about your crushes and friendships, adventuring into the woods after school with the boy of your dreams as you had a picnic together, blushing, leaning in-

The harsh knock on your door awoke you from your daytime reverie, back to reality. It was your father, demanding you get up and start your day. Sighing, you threw back the covers and glanced out your window. It was another chilly day, the snow creating a blanket as far as you could see. 

There was only one bright point in your day, one time of day that made you truly happy, and that was seeing him. He was always walking alone to school - his dark head of hair stood out in stark contrast to the pale snow, making him easy to spot. 

You had been watching him every day for the past four years. You had seen countless students walk past, and most tended to disregard your house, merely viewing it as a ramshackle old shed where some old hag probably lived. It hurt sometimes, when you realised none of them remembered you, when you realised your childhood friendships could probably never be recovered, and they all assumed you’d moved away and immediately moved on with their lives.

He was the only one who hadn’t forgotten.

You saw him glance up every day, the boy you had grown up with. The boy who had been your best friend until the day those words appeared. You saw his eyes, the same as you remembered, roam the entire house, stop momentarily on the windows, move on as he saw no movement. You watched it all - unable to say a word yet knowing exactly how he felt.

You saw him when he was happy, when he was sad, when he was angry, when he was truly destroyed after his father died, and it tore you apart that you couldn’t experience all that with him.

Your father didn’t know how you felt, and had no idea you watched out for him every day - he surely would have sent you away if he did.

As you lay in bed after another day of being alone, memories with him flashed behind your eyes.

“No Gilbert Blythe don’t you dare throw that water on me- NO!”

“Wanna come round tonight? Mum’s made pie!”

“I don’t care, we’re going to the woods tomorrow Y/N! Relax, nothing will happen, I’m with you aren’t I?”

“I love being the older one out of us two, even if it is only by three days - just proves I’ll always be better than Gilbert Blythe!”

The next morning you woke up to an empty house. This was a never before occurrence - your dad usually had his produce buyers come round, and kept you isolated in the upper part of the house so they wouldn’t know you were there. 

There was a note on your kitchen table - ‘Grandma sick. Gone to look after her. Will be a few days. DO NOT go outside.’

The first thing you did was step outside.

Who could blame you? It had been a long time since you had been outside the boundary of your house and garden, and for the first time in forever you were finally out! It was strange to feel the chill of the cold air on your skin, your hair tumbling out of its bun, your cheeks flushed, feeling alive for the first time in years. 

It was all too much though, and after a while you stepped back inside, ready to eat and get started with your day. 

After your morning rituals, you stood at the windows, watching everyone rush past in the cool morning air. And you watched out for him, waiting to see his tall figure walking past, and then you saw him - but something was different. Because he saw you too. 

You quickly moved away, startled by the eye contact you had just made and how it sent lightning through you. Peeking out of the window, your heart dropped as you watched him dismiss it as a trick of the mind and move on.

But today you waited for him, coming home from school. You stood at your window and waited as you watched him approaching. Your heart was thumping so loud you could barely hear yourself think, and yet all you could focus on was him. You had even dressed yourself up a little, just to wave at him from your window.

But he walked past without a second glance.

You were confused - but remembered he didn’t even know you existed, and had dismissed your earlier contact as a trick of the mind. Every fibre of your being was pulling you after him, but you stayed put, knowing that going outside to meet him would be a step too far. The only comfort you got was from noting that his arm was still grey.

Waking up to an empty house was strange - you had never experienced it before, and it gave you a sense of comfort. Today you decided to try walk to school with the other schoolchildren, and see if anyone would notice. You had been examining their behaviour for the past four years, and knew how the children your age behaved. You decided to try blending in with the lot, and once you saw the first group walking past your window, you took a deep breath and stepped outside.

The noise was overwhelming - there was so much going on, from the rumble of cars further away to the crunching of boots on snow to the inane chatter and giggles of the girls to the hearty laughs of the boys. Your senses were overwhelmed - you tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible, but all the while you were ecstatic. You had done it! As small of a step as this was, you were outside with others your age. You were getting ready to turn back and go home from a small close where the others couldn’t see you, when you saw Gilbert Blythe. 

Shit.

You were pretty sure you had never run that fast in your life, and his gobsmacked face staring at you was emblazoned upon your eyes. You shut your door, panting heavily, thanking God that he didn’t have the time to run after you. 

You were NOT ready for this. Your father was right, going out was only going to cause trouble, bring up old feelings - 

You buried yourself in your work, vowing never to disobey him again, he was coming back tomorrow after all. The blinds came back down and you swore to forget the incident ever happened

The next day Gilbert didn’t walk past your window.

Your father came home, announcing your grandma had passed away. You had only met her twice, as your father stated she brought back too many old memories of your mother. It was back into the same old routine, and you vowed never to step foot outside again.

The day after that Gilbert was outside your window.

He saw you, and you knew he saw you, because his face lit up with shock and confusion and maybe even a little happiness. You saw him, and couldn’t fathom how one person could make you feel so much, and look so elegantly beautiful, his black ensemble making him stick out like a sore thumb. 

Oh shit he was getting up coming round the front of the house raising his hand knocking on the door-

Your father’s face was utter confusion - he had no buyers scheduled and if someone wanted his vegetables, they would come round the back.

You stood in the hallway, your chest tightening as the door slowly opened to reveal Gilbert Blythe, absolutely astounded.

“Y/N? It’s been so long, I-”

“GET OUT!” your father yelled, his face a lovely purple hue, manhandling Gilbert til he was past your gate, a forlorn figure in the snow.

Your arm was golden. 

He stood there, not moving. 

Your arm was seen by your father. He gripped your arm, almost cutting off blood supply, as you watched his face change from shock to confusion to sadness. You were dreading his response - Gilbert still had no idea what was going on, watching from afar.

He was struggling to control himself, his breathing ragged and his movements erratic as he examined your forearm.

Your father’s voice was surprisingly soft. “I’m not blind, you know. I’ve seen how you look at him. I remember you two as kids. I always knew it would be you two. I just didn’t want you to leave me for him, for him to hurt you as your mum hurt me. But you know what?”

You held your breath.

“Go.”

And that single word, that one syllable, had you running out the door into Gilbert’s arms.

“I missed you, Gil.”

Your hands and hearts were now intertwined.

[kris-p-banana-bread]

Here DOAFP fandom, have some organic, locally-sourced, home-grown pain. This is basically just me, a scarred older sibling, projecting on Bobby, another scarred older sibling. I really reached into my post-loss psyche for this, so I hope you enjoy the headcanons and meta (AKA I hope you shed at least one tear).

It won’t let me link it here so the post that inspired this is under the read more at the bottom ✨

- When I first watched doafp, I couldn't understand Elena's aversion to Sam becoming a prominent figure in her mom's and her life. Now I understand it almost too perfectly. There was never supposed to be someone after Robert. He and Gabi were deeply in love and happy. Robert was it; he was the first and true love of Gabi's life. Sam showing up probably felt like a huge and utterly disrespectful slap in the face of Robert's memory, because he wasn't even supposed to be there. I don't know if that's as eloquent as I wish it was, or if it makes sense, and it probably sounds really mean to Sam, but it's not even really about him. It was always supposed to be Robert; Sam hasn’t earned the right to be apart of or associated with her family

- After Robert dies, Gabi and Bobby make it a habit to find and keep photos and recordings/videos of Robert, even if the latter only has him saying one sentence. They won't make Elena join them for the search, but after they find some of those old audios of Robert, they'll sometimes play them back for little Elena

- Bobby put up the keep out sign (I credit this to a few other blogs for discussing this tho) because that's where he would cry sometimes. He actually used to be pretty close with Elena, but after he put up that sign and started distancing himself from them a bit so they wouldn't see the times he cracked, he got a little more short and jaded with her. It's that, plus just growing into a teenager and stuff. And I'm not saying that he and Elena have a bad relationship, but he's become more snappy and has more walls up than he used to

- Sometimes Elena feels bad because she doesn't always remember her dad's voice. She was pretty young when he died, so even though she recalls it a bit, and the recordings help, it's been a while since she's talked to him in person, so of course she doesn't quite remember what it's like to actually talk to Robert and she's forgotten some of his mannerisms. She likes to think she's all done (she marked the stages down in her grief journal after all) but grief isn't linear or all that rational, so it hits her hard sometimes

- I keep reading as an action close to my heart because that's a strong bond me and my mom shared. She would rec books to me, and we would joke and talk about them, or she would hint to some future event and then refuse to tell me until I caught up to that part. So Elena and Bobby do something similar in their grief. Elena has writing and words, because that's something Robert loved if I remember correctly (but if I’m not and that’s not canon, then I now declare it so) and Bobby has tennis. But besides tennis (I sent a couple anons to @freshlybakedfandoms about it but I'm not sure where she went) Bobby also was taught to play guitar by Robert (I liken it to Devi Vishwakumar and her harp) so when he misses his dad or is just sad, he'll take out his dad's old acoustic and strum

- (This next one is something I also think a lot about so this is pretty much 98% projection) Bobby thinks sometimes about the fact that he was never able to come out to his dad. He hadn't really started growing into that part of himself yet, and he never got to show it to his father. He wonders what he would have thought of him. Would he be angry? Would he dismiss him and say it was just a phase? Bobby didn't think so, but a little part of him insisted that you could never be too sure. After he comes out, Gabi and Cami assure him that Robert would've been so proud of him and would've loved him regardless (Since we know virtually nothing about him, I maintain that Robert was one of those dads who teases their kid relentlessly about their crushes and I think he would've done that with Bobby and eventually Elena)

- When Elena's quince rolls around (if she chooses to have one of course), Sam dances with her during the father-daughter dance. A part of her still hurts, still aches and wishes that Robert were dancing with her too; still knows on some fundamental level that he and Gabi had planned for this day, but he had simply never made it. But she's known Sam long enough that she feels comfortable here. Nobody can replace Robert, but Sam is her family, and it feels right like this.

- I might do some more research and deliberate, but for the moment I'm saying that Robert had cancer, I’m thinking along the lines of colon. My mom was terminal, but idk if I should make Robert terminal? Maybe towards the end. Or maybe he was diagnosed as incurable early on but Gabi kept it from the kids because, tbh, being told your parent is balancing on that kind of edge is traumatic for them. So anyways, I’m going on that assumption for this last point, and I’ll see if I can recover some of my old knowledge and talk about technical stuff later if anybody would like to hear it

- Elena and Bobby were both pretty young. Bobby understood about PET scans and tests somewhat, and knew generally what different answers from doctors meant. Elena mainly just understood what was happening by reading her parents' and brother's expressions when getting lab results in from the doctor. They both remember on some level what it was like when Gabi would leave the kids with Cami and take Robert out to the car (later she would have to help him) and they would all feel like they were holding their breath until they got back and confirmed that everything was ok (and later, the little shocks of fear when the answers were no longer as positive and there was more apprehension and risks. After all, cancer doesn’t deal in absolutes)

- Bobby can still remember Robert when he had to stop walking around a lot. He still remembers the phone call that Cami got from his mom, saying that something had gone wrong, and if this last treatment didn’t work, he wouldn’t have much time before he passed. Still remembers Cami rushing into a room when she got that call, and trying to hide what was happening until Gabi could get home and explain it; but Bobby was a sharp kid believe it or not. He heard about the treatment, heard Cami crying. He still had hope... but when Robert came home in a gurney, when he could barely stay awake sometimes, when his voice was quiet and his skin was a little jaundiced, Bobby felt incredibly empty. But Robert always had a smile for his wife and his beautiful kids, even if it was small and very tired, his eyes still crinkled the same. He always had a smile; right up until they had to say goodnight and get some sleep one night. And then... he passed.

- After he passed, the Cañero-Reeds needed help, and a lot of Gabi’s coworkers would bring food or materials if they were running low. Cami and Danielle would babysit and would distract the kids when Gabi needed a good cry.

- Like you’d imagine, and because of what is sort of implied in canon and in my own head, the kids dealt with it in different ways. Bobby put up that sign, and withdrew. He wasn’t awful, but his patience with certain people got a bit shorter and he was a bit quieter. And he was a really good helper when he had the energy and he cared deeply, but he would sometimes get physically and emotionally exhausted after helping Gabi/Elena/Cami/anybody else with something and would go into his room or mentally tap out to recharge. He took comfort in things that seemed natural and that he sometimes took for granted before, like video games and skateboarding (hehe bobby skateboards. Anybody second me on this?) and clothes etc... and other stuff. A lot of materialistic things or experiences that he would skip out on before. But they bring normalcy back to his life now so he loves them for that.

- Bobby doesn’t wanna think about big themes or anything anymore, which I can’t remember but I think it was Vi (freshlybakedfandoms, again, idk where she is and I hope she’s ok) who said he was a math and science person and I think that as much as that could transfer over to those subjects as well, it’s much harder to avoid existential and emotional themes in English and History class and Bobby doesn’t like it as much as Elena does for that reason. He had to live with the back and forth of his dad’s treatments and tests, so math and science is comforting because it’s more concrete (There could be a million arguments for why he would distrust math and science because of his dad’s passing though, I realize) Ultimately, though, it reminds him of Robert too much.

- On the other hand, after a period of shock and confusion, Elena threw herself into new things. First it was a grief journal, to make sure she was going through the motions. Then she read a lot, and when she felt too alone or like she wasn’t doing enough, like she was stagnant, she’d just find something to focus and persevere on again. That feels like her personality type to me; something is wrong so let’s fix it right away. But that could also transfer sort of negatively into “Something feels off or I’m very sad, let’s get this thing done and be productive so we can put off having to confront that but at least we get work out of it” but I could be entirely wrong (this is based off some of my family members and how they dealt with the loss.) And Elena throws herself into history and english because her dad loved it, and she wants to remember more of him. Because she believes words have power and history is a lesson and that’s incredibly interesting for her

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 6

a/n: Are you seeing these posts? If not i don’t wanna spend my time editing the fanfiction for nothing…

    The familiar knock on the door woke Scarlett up in the morning. It was none other than Severus Snape. He was standing there with their breakfast.

"Did i wake you up...?"

"Yeah..." Scarlett murmured sleepily. "Whatever come in."

"Sorry, i thought you'd be awake..." he put the plates on the table.

"The pills make me sleepy all the time... You help yourself, i will be back." She headed to the bathroom.

While he was pouring tea into the cups, she came back and sat down the chair.

"I went to the owlery earlier and there were couple of letters for you so i took them, here."

"Oh thanks."

She looked through them; Leo, Carina, dad... and there was a package. She wondered who sent it so ripped it open since there was no name tag on it. There was a grey cardigan and a note inside of the package, she immediately recognized the cardigan because it was hers. She was very confused, so she picked up the note and read it.

~

I didn't have any thick clothes with me that night and after Sirius and his warmness left me all alone in the cold bed, i had to borrow that from your wardrobe. You lost your husband but you can have your cardigan back.

Love, Arabelle

~

Scarlett took the cardigan and the note and threw them into the fireplace while tears running down on her cheeks.

"How dare she!?" She punched the wall next to the fireplace and fell down the floor crying hysterically. Severus run up to her immediately; he was shocked at her reaction, that was so out of character.

"Scarlett, Scar calm down. What's wrong?"

"I want to kill her!" She was screaming and crying with anger. "I hate her! She ruined everything!" She was digging her long nails into her palms as she clenched her fists.

Severus was so confused and worried at the same time. He hasn’t seen her like this before and he wasn't sure what to do because clearly talking wouldn't work at that moment so he just held her close to calm her down. Scarlett was resistant at first but after a while she leant into him and just cried her eyes out until there was no tear to shed. Sometime have passed like that and finally she was no longer crying and moved away from his embrace slowly.

"I am sorry, that was so pathetic of me..." She whispered while looking away from him.

"There is no need to apologize Scarlett." He stood up and gave her a hand then he led her to the table.

"I feel so ashamed... I can't control myself at all..."

He poured some fresh tea for her and sat back down.

"Why do you feel ashamed? You just express your emotions that way and if it relaxes you, do it."

"I have bad thoughts all over my mind Severus... i don't even know what am i gonna do next. I am scared of myself..."

"Talk through them with me."

She took a sip from her tea and thought for a while. "Did Carina tell you anything? Be honest with me."

"No, not at all. She just said family issues and i didn't question it any further."

"I don't know where to start, so many things happened lately... like i can't perceive them at all." sighed deeply, Scarlett was feeling so distressed she was still shaking from the crying.

"Start with the easiest one for you."

"I am no longer the deputy minister, i quit."

"I read that in newspaper and i was surprised actually."

"It wasn't an easy decision. I love... loved my job and it was a good way to show my abilities but... i had to quit."

"Did you get a better offer from somewhere else?"

"Oh, i wish..." she smiled sadly "I am unemployed right now." She saw the confused look on his face. "And here is the shitty part..." she finished off her tea, hoping it would ease her a bit. But unfortunately, it didn't. She was scratching her hands unwittingly. Severus knew something bad was coming, this was never a good sign.

"He, Sirius, umm... cheated on me..." she bit her lip to stop herself from crying once again but the tears didn't want to stay in their places but run down on her cheeks. "With his co-worker... i caught them in our bed..."

Severus couldn't believe the things he just heard. Sirius literally would kill himself to be with Scarlett when he was young and when he finally had her, he cheated. Severus regretted his decision that he made 30 years ago, he shouldn't have believed Sirius. While he was busy with his thoughts, Scarlett continued.

"We divorced 10 days ago. 26 years of marriage ended in half an hour... and like this wasn't bad enough, after the court i came across with "the girl" and she humiliated me in front of many people. And the package was from her. She has borrowed my cardigan that night because after i interrupted their hot action, she was cold." Her anger was rising, and her face was turning red at the same time. "She wrote me that i lost my husband but i can take my cardigan back." She laughed angrily and then started to cry helplessly once again.

Severus was so angry and just wanted to find Sirius and put him in his place. Seeing Scarlett like this broke his heart into pieces but he didn't know what to do to make her feel any better. He could see her pain through her beautiful eyes. He would give anything to see them shine with happiness again.

"I am standing on a very thin line, if i let myself fall which i am close to... i won't be able to recover from this at all or it will be so hard... I don't want it Severus..." her voice had such a pleading tone and she was literally screaming for help.

"I am here for you Scarlett, whatever you want or need i will always be there to help you."

He was dying to hug her tightly and kiss her pain away. She was the only one he ever loved and his love for her never changed over years.

"Thank you, Severus." She smiled faintly.

He watched her while she was taking her pills with shaky hands.

"Would you like to do something today?" He felt like he needs to take her out of this room, she was stuck between the walls for days and it wasn’t helping her a bit.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, we can go for a walk to Hogsmade?"

She thought about it for couple of minutes.

"We can do that, maybe being outside will be good for me."

"Good then. I will be in my room, when you are ready just knock on my door." He picked up the breakfast dishes and left.

Scarlett sat on the chair for a while before starting to get ready. She thought about Severus, when he was here with her she felt so comfortable even speaking about such hard topics for her. He always made her feel so calm and peaceful. But another side of her was still hurt by him. She decided not to think about that now, there were already man problems in her life.

Some time has passed, and she was knocking on his door. He opened it with a tiny smile on his lips.

"Sorry it took a little longer, apparently i forgot how to dress up since the only thing i wear was sleeping gowns for weeks..."

"It's okay and you look beautiful whatever you wear." The sentence did slip from his mouth before he thought, he blushed a little after he noticed what he just said.

"Thank you, Severus."

She smiled lightly and the two walked out from the castle to Hogsmade. It was a chill November day, just like Scarlett likes it. She was a total winter person and the cold weather always made her feel better and alive. A tiny smile appeared on her lips.

"I was thinking the old days, i have never imagined that we would be on our way to Hogsmade in our 50s."

He chuckled softly. "But here we are. Just like we used to do while we were at Hogwarts."

"I would like to live a day from those good old times."

"We can live like one. First we go to Honeydukes and get your chocolates then we have our hot chocolates at Three Broomsticks and talk."

"Sounds good to me!"

He was happy to see her all excited about such a simple day. They walked the roads they knew so well, got her favourite chocolates and now they were enjoying their drinks.

"You never talked about your life, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing much. Just working and dealing with dunderheads..."

"I hope you are not calling my daughter a dunderhead." She joked.

"I wouldn't hire her as my assistant if I thought so."

"Ah good to hear that because she really likes you, you were always her favourite professor. She would be sad if you called her a dunderhead."

"Carina was my favourite student to be honest. She was such a good student."

"Like mother like daughter." She grinned proudly and flipped her hair.

"I see you very humble."

She chuckled softly while slapping his arm jokingly. Severus grinned at her, that was his Scarlett and he was glad to see her happy. They kept talking about random stuff and spent some more time at Hogsmade. They were back at Hogwarts before it got dark.

"Thank you so much for today Severus, i feel so much better." She smiled at him before she entered her room.

"It's my pleasure, i am here if you need anything."

"Thank you again, see you tomorrow."

"See you."

He walked into his room as well and laid down on his bed thinking about her. His heart was beating like a teenage boy who was back from his first date. She was right here, so close but yet again he couldn't hold her, couldn't inhale her sweet rose scent, couldn't kiss her delicate lips...

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[akimmito]

I’ll still be with you

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Master List

Chapter 2: The blue of the sky

Maybe, I can never see this sky again...

The raindrops fall in silent lament, drowning out the noise of the city that is prey to its tears. He just watches the clouds above him, ignoring the water and allowing himself to soak, the white uniform shirt sticks to him defining the muscles he hides underneath, the hair almost covering his eyes as it drips following the rhythm imposed by the sky.

"From here, I can't tell if you're crying or not."

Damian looks away from the dark sky and meets his best friend's vibrant blue, a brilliant color among all the gray that surrounds him. Since that fateful night everything has lost its meaning, didn't he want to make his father proud? Didn't he want to show that he could do great things? Didn't he want to find his own way?

"You're going to get sick, let's go to class."

"No, I'll stay here..."

"Shall I call Alfred or Dick? You don't look good. ”He keeps staring at the blue, sees it blur with the boy's conflicting emotions. Jon is still three years younger than him, it doesn't matter that he's already nearing puberty. His features are still childish, he still lights up as if he were his own sun without needing the star that revitalize him.

"I'll be fine, I just need time..."

Why do I feel this way?

Jon just watches him before nodding, doesn't say anything else, and walks away. He gives him little glances the further he walks back to the classroom, for several days he has been that way, sad. And as if the skies of Gotham felt it, the same amount of time it has been raining, shedding the tears that the teenager is not able to let go.

Damian looks back at the clouds, feeling his eyes sting. In an attempt to contain the sensation, he closes his eyes and just lets himself be felt, the drops soaking him even more, knowing that Alfred won't be happy when he sees him dripping so much water that he could give a whole neighborhood drink. But the rain stops falling on him and he opens his eyes again, a black umbrella protects him.

"I extended a permit to your teacher, come with me."

Damian feels the return of the rain abruptly on him and sees Drake walking towards the main entrance, unlike him, his brother is so neat that he doesn't seem to be walking in the rain. He looks at him for just one more moment before walking behind him.

Before, when he first arrived, he saw Drake as someone inferior, as a piece to be eliminated from the board in order to achieve his objectives, he earned his contempt and a cold shoulder that prevailed until now. Drake is the hardest to read, always hidden behind a sympathetic image, easy to ignore, easy to underestimate and forget that, of all the Wayne family members, he's the most dangerous. He runs Wayne Enterprise better than Bruce, everyone says, the efficiency of the company grew as soon as he got the full job a year ago. Drake is nineteen years old and it's already everything Bruce never asked for, but is proud to have.

If I were like him would my father be proud? Would he love me more?

They move silently through the damp streets of the city, Damian has his eyes fixed on the drops that crash against the glass of the window. There was no comment, Drake just handed him his jacket and now it's just as wet as the rest of him.

He don't want to keep thinking, he just want your mind to push all the thoughts that drown him and let he breathe easy. He feels tormented by not being able to fulfill his father's expectations, by the quiet years in the company of Richard and that were broken by the abrupt return of Bruce, by the time it left and will never return, by the lost happiness, for the torn illusions and for the dreams that are impossible to reach on a horizon that recedes with each step he takes.

"I'm Sorry."

Damian turns to Drake immediately, he's suddenly with the blue of the sky that is dimmed by sadness.

"Why?"

"It's my fault, I brought Bruce back."

He doesn't say anything, maybe that's enough, because his brother returns all his attention to the streets.

The sound of the rain envelops them and the cold is almost welcoming. Damian closes his eyes and leans against the glass, he doesn't care about the destination as long as it's as far as possible from the mansion, the school and everything that haunts him. Because he failed.

I just have to resist… it's the only thing I can do.

I'll not change my father's mind.

I'll not change overnight...

The lack of movement brings him back to reality, the noise of the drops hitting the car is not heard either. They are under cover.

"Where we are?"

"My home."

Sure, Drake lives in the city. Like Todd, he follows the patrol routes imposed by Batman, but no longer lives in the mansion. It's just Bruce, Alfred and him...

A sense of tranquility floods him, it's not the mansion. It's a place without shadows, but neither with a light that he doesn't deserve. Follow Drake up to the tall silver, barely noticing the details of the apartment, though it0s more of a complete building. He vaguely remembers that it's the old theater near the alley where his grandparents died, it was not important and still is not, it is almost surprising how detached he feels to the whole thing, when that event was the first and great event that he brought to life to Batman. He could say, without shame, that he feels closer to the death of Richard's parents, because he always spoke to him about them and made him part of those moments, he made them his family.

"Why are we here, Drake?"

He sees him wandering aimlessly until he stops in front of a door, gives him a glance before entering the new environment. Damian follows him, assuming the answer to his question is there.

A room so small that it could be a matchbox, at odds with the large space enjoyed in the previous room. Stacked books and scattered papers are the main decorations, but the most important are the two computers. Drake works in that little 4x4 space? The place is visibly uncomfortable.

"Drake."

"Bruce is being unfair to you." Damian frowns, his brother doesn't face him, he can only see him in profile while he turns on one of the two computers. The light illuminates his face, making his dull expression better to see. "I was also unfair to you six years ago and I remained so for a long time, I was stuck in your version of ten years. I'm sorry for that too, you deserved more. We're family."

It was never a secret that Drake held a grudge against him and to receive such a sincere apology, admitting that it wasn't just Damian who made mistakes, it's a new and unfamiliar feeling. It's not exactly unpleasant, although it does cause him some discomfort.

"I know it was an accident. I can't judge you for that, I've been close to passing that line… ”He falls silent and begins typing, opening files and an email. Damian begins to suspect that those computers are not for work, he looks for the switch and when the whole room is properly lit, he can see everything in greater detail.

Stacked books are magic, since when has Drake been interested in magic? It's no secret that he feels rejection towards it, so it's strange. The scattered papers, for some that he can read, are bank accounts and other documents related to a certain Gabriel Agreste. On the far wall are a couple of photographs, guarded as if they were a secret. Red Robin and a spotted heroine, Drake and a young girl with bright blue eyes and a kind smile. He can only assume that it's the same woman.

"What is all this?"

"The memories of my trip."

Damian doesn't make sense in his words, but doesn't push. He's tired of pushing.

Just hold on... this place is at least much better than the mansion.

"I'll go."

"Hm?"

"I'll leave Gotham and I'll not return." Only until then does he look at the screen, there is another photo of that same woman, but in the design of a French Marie Lenoir passport, he's sure that this is not her real Name. Next to it's also one of him, Timothée Rothchild. That just confirms it's not her real name. "There is something I must do and it will take me a lifetime."

"Why are you telling me?"

"Do you want to come?"

Damian just watches him open another document and this time, it's his photo with a blank passport.

I wanna go?

Maybe that's the time to go back and find my way...

---------

I don't know if I managed to express well the feeling of melancholy and of being... lost, yes. I hope I have made it.

What did you think?

[prismatales]

Oh my goodness, finally the request thing is showing! It wasn’t for the longest time. First, I’d like to thank you for being such an amazing human being. Here’s an idea: Mirio and maybe the other two (separately) with an s/o who’s Sir Nighteye’s daughter. She’s with them at the raid and is there when Nighteye gets hurt and later dies. I crave angst and hurt/comfort. Of course you don’t have to! Thanks either way, you rock!

I hope you don't mind if it's only Mirio, but I tried to make it long enough, hope you enjoy it! 💖

Warning: Death, Slight mentions of gore, Angst and Fluff.

Reassurance

Everyone could feel the misery coming out in massive waves, filling the surroundings with a sorrowful feeling to such an extent everyone could feel that same pain as their own.

Nobody has the courage to approach the young girl whose bloodshot eyes can no longer shed a single tear looked like the physical embodiment of despair as she stands in front of her father's memorial.

She was there when everyone gave it their all for the sake of the mission, to capture the Shie Hassaikai and rescue Eri-chan, that little girl who had to suffer endlessly at the hands of that sociopath father of hers, the one person their group called their leader and the same man who didn't hesitate to use a small child, all for the sake of his horrendous goals.

She was there when her father, Mirai Sasaki, also known as the hero Sir Nighteye did everything in his power to protect the little girl, and his intern Lemilllion, just to be defeated and fatally wounded by the monster known as Overhaul.

She was there when her father fought for his life, even with a gaping hole in his chest together with the knowledge there was nothing else that could be done but wait for everything to be over, and in spite of being fully aware that his time in this world was not far from coming to an end, he never stopped smiling.

Caressing his little girl's face with a sense of pride, knowing that just like everyone else, she gave her everything to accomplish their mission. The last thing he asked of her was to keep smiling, before his eyes eventually closed for the last time.

A gut-wretching cry nearly shook the whole building, loud enough for everyone nearby to jump out of their skin, nobody had the courage to touch the grieving girl as her body gave up, fearful that the lightest of touches would end up breaking her apart, all they could do was watch as she cried, and cried and kept crying until her throat became raw from the ache, making even the slightest of whispers feel like hellfire itself on her vocal chores.

The day of her father's funeral was not different, the tears wouldn't stop falling down, everyone who had the honor of working with her father gave their condolences as well as offering to help out in any possible way, while aware it wouldn't do much to help, they could only hoped it would make a difference to soothe her grieving soul.

One person in particular knew exactly how much she's really hurting, and he'd made sure to do everything in his power to take care of her, that was a promise he made to his mentor, a promise he swore on his life that would never be broken.

Sir Nighteye was like a second father to Mirio, someone who believed in him from the very beginning, if he was in pain he knew it was probably small compared to what you were currently going through.

After all Sir was your father, the man who saw you growing up, who's wallet was full with pictures of his little girl, from a wiggling little newborn to a young teenager's first day at UA. The same man who couldn't stop crying of joy when your stubborn baby self refused to take her first steps for anyone but him....And the man who approved of their relationship in the blink of an eye, and asked Mirio for one thing only, to take good care of his daughter and make her happy.

If Mirio's good at something else than being a hero is at keeping promises, that was proven as he made way towards (Y/N)'s room, where said girl had been isolating herself after coming back from the mission. When their classmates told him she wouldn't come out, anxiety started eating him from the inside, but all he did was shake off the uneasy feeling before rushing towards her room.

You refused to move from the position under the soft blankets, the spot in the mattress right under your face was damp with ever flowing tears, motivation and energy abandoning you ever since that cursed monitor went flat, alerting everyone of the end of a journey. A stuffed giraffe squeezed firmly against your chest, it's the very first stuffed animal he bought for you as a baby, one eye was missing and one of its plushy ears long gone, but it was still a memento of your Dad which could never be discarded.

Someone knocked on the door softly, the vibrations could be felt throughout the utterly silent bedroom, where not a single noise could be hear aside from your soft breathing going off in a steady rhythm.

"(Y/N), It's me...Can I come in?"

Everyone who knows about your relationship with Mirio knows that if he's asking IF he can come in, it means the matter at hand is a serious one, the amount of trust between you was at such level he could just waltz into the room without asking. But this time he knew better than just burst in. The door slowly creaked open, Mirio's head peeking around the edge at the same time his blue eyes began looking around, however when he caught sight of your limp self it made his heart feel heavy by the sight of his girlfriend's non-responsive state.

The edge of the mattress dipping down by his additional weight was not minded, neither that or anything else in particular as you just keep on staring at the wall with dead looking eyes, fingers tracing a small pattern on the soft material of the stuffed animal comforting you during this moment in time filled with ever lasting pain.

"...I miss him so much" Mirio barely manages to catch the monotonous murmur coming from your side, gone was that sweet tone of your voice that he loved so much, the person laying in bed next to his sitting form was someone completely broken.

Right now you were not living, you were only...existing.

"...I miss him too" His hands reached forward to caressing your shoulders in a comforting manner, his touch was something that always brought a sense of comfort no matter the situation. That time when you had an argument with your best friend? he was there to cheer you up. The first time you failed the provisional licence exam? Mirio was there to cuddle your sadness away.

The ruffling of the sheets indicated Mirio moving around the mattress, the heat of his body enveloping you from the back, chin resting against the top of your head while his arms sneak around your waist to bring both bodies together for comfort.

Was it selfish of you not to see how much he was hurting as well? Mirio's someone who shines as bright as the sun, someone with a comforting warmth capable of help during the hardest moments in life, and yet in this moment, even with that bright smile on his face, he too was mourning on the inside.

"...Can you turn around?" He asks softly, in a way comparable to someone would ask a small child, the last thing he wants right now is to leave your hurting and alone, he can't help but smiling weakly when your body carefully turns over so your face is buried into his collarbone, the stuffed toy resting in between of your bodies, he can't help the sad smile that comes out knowing how much the little guy means to you.

"I heard you didn't come out all day, not even to eat something?" It takes a while for Mirio to get an answer, the silence no longer being so suffocating the moment your body started to relax thanks to his warm hold.

"...I'm not hungry, I'm just tired" In that exact moment the one thing that should have stayed quiet decided to betray you as your stomach began to grumble furiously at the comment on food. Mirio can't help the oncoming laughter as you start blushing despite the sadness. But at least the tears have stopped flowing for now, that's a good start.

"...Listen...I know how much you're hurting, I'm hurting too..." One of his hands start caressing your cheek, his touch bring so much comfort that you can't help but lean towards it with eyes closed, craving for more of his warmth like a moth attracted to the bodies of light.

"But we made a promise to him, remember?"

...A promise, the last thing your father asked before he left...

"Smile"

"...Easy for you to say...you're like the human equivalent of the sun itself" You couldn't fight back the tired smile that came out, and Mirio noticed that, relieved his actions were having at least a tiny but effective reaction on your mood.

"Look...I know you're in pain, but I promised your dad to take care of you, remember? And I can't stand to see you suffering like this" He slowly lifts himself up, dragging you along into a sitting position. "So I'm going take good care of my cupcake until she's back to her sweet ol' self, alright?"

Mirio pulls away from his cuddles session before getting up, taking you by the wrist to lift your still in pajamas body out of bed.

"Now, let's take you to the bathroom to take a nice warm bath, once you're done with that we're getting you something to eat and if you want we can go for a walk or something? What do you say?"

Your only response was to latch onto him once more, his eyes darting down to take in the sight of his girlfriend taking in as much of his warmth once again, nuzzling against his chest affectionately.

"Think we can go back to cuddling instead after we're done eating?"

His arms wrap around your shoulders as he gives you a small peck on the lips, it's his way to accept your proposal.

"Cuddling sounds good too"

He knows it would take time, but Lord help him if Mirio doesn't give his everything for the sake of being able to see that beautiful smile he adores so much.

MASTERLIST

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