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izunias-meme-hole · 2 years

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My Top 10 Favorite Fire Emblem Characters

Number 1. Edelgard Von Hresvelg - I would repeat several points about why her fans like her, and also explain just how in the wrong she is, but there’s a simpler way to explain why I love Edelgard. She’s the best take on the Rudolf Archetype in the entire series. She’s calculated, arrogant, and self-righteous, yet she’s also very charming, likable, and had a good end goal that can resonate with some people, despite the way she intended to go about it. Her character basically mixes the best aspects of the Rudolf Archetype, and places them into a single character, without making her seem unoriginal. Overall, Edelgard is the most well done villain the series has ever had. Long live the Flame Emperor!

Number 2. Ashnard - King Ashnard of Daein was truly a Mad King. Throughout Path of Radiance, he’s mostly in his hideout, but he’s authorized so many warcrimes, the carnage he causes is told to Ike and the mercenaries, his soldiers both fear and respect him, every time we DID see him talking with his men it became clearer how deranged he is, and overall he was a well built up final boss with a GIGANTIC BLOODLUST. However the best thing about him is that while he’s this hammy psycho on the surface, underneath that expressive exterior is a clever asshole of a man with a darwinist ideology. Ashnard believes that only the strong can thrive in life, and hates the caste systems in other countries because it grants positions of power to people he deems as “unworthy.” In his eyes, if you want to increase your status, you need to fight tooth to nail and prove that you’re strong. Hell, he wasn’t even upset at the notion of dying because in his eyes, if he dies it means that he was overpowered or that he slipped up. HELL WHEN HE DOES DIE HE IS JUST LAUGHING, BEGGING THE PARTY TO CONTINUE THE FIGHT, AND SPEWING SOME BULLSHIT ABOUT AN ASCENSION! So yeah, this guy is not called the Mad King for nothing.

Number 3. Arvis - The best way to describe Arvis is a “Male Prototype Edelgard”, however the difference between them is clear. Despite also being a morally ambiguous figure dubbed “The Flame Emperor,” Arvis was the BASTARD that got what he wanted, until karma hit him like a truck when he got backstabbed by the Gharnef of his game, and his own son a few years later. I could go into more detail about this guy, like how he killed the first protagonist of the game and married his girlfriend not long after, but Geneology of The Holy War is a long ass game, and there is a LOT to say about this guy. Also he’s the first Rudolf that relies on magic rather than swords, axes, spears, and armor. So yeah, Arvis is dope.

Number 4. Lyon - To think that a member of the Gharneff Archetype is the most tragic villain in the series. The man tried to bring back his dad with dark magic, and immediately got taken over by the demon king, Fomortiis. This alone doesn’t just make him good, because Lyon isn’t just possessed, every single one of his traits ended up becoming twisted, and hidden feelings were put on full display in the WORST ways possible, and at the end of the game, he becomes nothing but a souless puppet for Fomortis to use. The way he’s written is similar to how Sephiroth was written in Crisis Core, except more pittiful, which helps hammer in exactly what kind of man and villain Lyon is. Overall Lyon is a walking mess of a human being that ended up becoming a hollow shell of a man controlled by the Demon King.

Number 5. Berkut - Edelgard would HATE this guy. Berkut was the embodiment of pride, entitlement, and insecurity. He was Emperor Rudolf’s nephew, one of the most skilled combatants in Rigel at such a young age, and had a very cool and nice fiancé named Rinea. So what happened? He got his ass beat by a farmboy named Alm, who also happened to be Rudolf’s son, and after that an entire domino effect happened, which resulted in Berkut falling into despair. Then in his moment of despair, the God of Strength and Father of Rigel, Duma, whispered into his ear, and Rinea began trying to cheer up Berkut at the EXACT moment that he was going nuts, which resulted in the bastard sacrificing his fiancé for the sake of power. And after all of that he is finally killed by Alm. Well, at least he’s Dancing In Purgatory now. As much as I love how Rudolf was done in Shadows of Valentia, Berkut was its breakout character for a reason. His slow degradation from this arrogant prick with big shoes to fill and some semblance of a heart, to a deranged madman that only lusts for power was done pretty well.

Number 6. The Black Knight, Zelgius - The Black Knight, Zelgius, is just great and is truly deserving of his own archetype. Between his design, his warrior mentality, his boss music, his dynamic with Ike, his simple and effective backstory, his connection to both of main villains of the Tellius Games, and overall just the sheer amount of menace and the FEAR factor he brings to the table everytime he’s on the map. However I do like his characterization in Path of Radiance characterization more than his Radiant Dawn characterization, mostly because I REALLY like how Path of Radiance introduces him as both an near-invincible threat and a very personal villain for Ike to face. The Black Knight may be a simple villain clad in black armor, but he’s still one of the best villains this series has produced.

Number 7. Camus/Zeke - The Camus Archetype is a character archetype in Fire Emblem reserved for knights who are loyal to their country and master, despite being admirable men and cool guys. A bad member of this archetype would ignore all reason and remain loyal to their country and master, despite being aware their a piece of shit, but the best members actually do realize the situation they’re in and do whatever they can to stop their former master. However no matter how many members of this archetype come into existence, there is only one General Camus of Grust. Or Zeke, if you’ve played Shadows of Valentia.

Number 8. Rhea/Serios - She is a genocide survivor, she’s got PTSD, she has mommy issues, she’s the most characterized “evil dragon person,” and so on. Overall what Rhea is to the Medeus Archetype is what Edelgard is to the Rudolf Archetype.

Number 9. Nergal - This guy is the only member of the Gharnef archetype I respect, that isn’t Lyon. On the surface Nergal looks like this generic madman who feeds off of life energy and wants to release dragons, but when you replay the game on Hector’s route, you soon see that his madness was the byproduct of being corrupted by dark magic, which he was researching in an attempt to find a way to get free half-dragon kids, Ninian and Nils. Still, when he did get corrupted, he became one of the series’s biggest bastards of all time. Overall, Nergal is genuinely underrated as a villain and character.

Number 10. Zephiel - Zephiel had no grand plan to change humanity for the better, or a plan to conquer the world and make it a hellscape. He just wanted to wipe out humanity and lend the world to the dragons. So basically he was a nihilist, but in the FE6 manga and FE7, we see that he started out as a kind boy that grew into a man worthy of being a king, so what happened to him? Well his jealous father, who had sent assassin’s to kill him in the past, tried to poison him, and was unsuccessful in doing so. Jesus, talk about mixing irredeemability with tragedy. Also props to him for being a consistent threat, despite not appearing often in game, not to mention he’s got one of the best attack animations in the series. Doesn’t matter if you love or hate him, you gotta respect the King of Bern.

#edelgard von hresvelg #black knight #zelgius #Berkut #lyon #zephiel #camus #zeke #arvis #ashnard #rhea #serios #nergal #fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #feh #ranking

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minetteskvareninova · 1 year

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Minette watches Medici, part 11 (Obstacles And Opportunities)

- Look, I don’t mind episodes of this show having basic ass titles, but this one is... Just far bellow basic, if you know what I mean.

- A small, but still embarassing correction - there’s no Lucrezia M in this show so far, that was the other sister of Lorenzo the Magnificent, that was married off very young, which is presumably why she’s not in the show. Fahriye-sultan-but-lame is named Bianca.

- My suspicions about Lorenzo being the bestest, smartest, specialest little boy in the writers’ eyes were unfortunately not disproven in the slightest. For Lorenzo, nothing is a problem, he never makes big mistakes and has no major flaws. Like, his Gary Stu status becomes obvious trough comparison to Cosimo, who was allowed to make much bigger mistakes and lose much more badly, making for a more compelling character. And while there were hints of the Medici maintaining the moral high ground over their opponents, this season amps this up to a truly ridiculous degree. I mean, “making Florence a true republic” is an interesting way of putting “becoming a populist autocrat akin to Julius Caesar”.

- That said, I don’t hate the love triangle so far. Clarice and Lorenzo still have nothing in common and don’t even really know each other, but Lucrezia D’s “I feel protective of her” gives me hope for a decent polycule, in my delusional headcanons if not in practice. The instant consummation of their marriage made me rise my eyebrows, especially after Lorenzo passed the opportunity to be a gentleman (yes, in a somewhat anachronistic way, but still less absurd than the Bianca subplot - see bellow). Then again, he IS riddiculously attractive, enough to drive even a repressed renessaince virgin who probably barely knows what sex is mad with lust, so I’ll allow it. Still, the chemistry between Lorenzo and his new bride is still very much not there.

- Speaking of shitty romantic subplots! It really doesn’t help my enjoyment of the show that hurrempilled ever so graciously reminded me of the existence of Bali/Armin “romance”. Tsundere girl x presumptuous fuckboy is truly the worst romance trope in existence, which may be why Giuliano went in this episode from mildly to severely annoying. Poor Simonetta also has two other options, apparently - an equally presumptuous simp and her older, but reasonably attractive and only a little bit douchey (not nearly comparable to Giuliano, I’ll tell you that) husband. My money is on the husband.

- The Bianca subplot finally got interesting, but only at the price of becoming a thousand times stupider. Okay, them realizing there’s no way their families will reconcile anytime soon and eloping was stupid in an understandable way. Their reactions, though... First off, even if Lorenzo was eventually able to forgive Bianca and didn’t force her to join the monastery ASAP, he would be much more pissed off than that. There is no goddamn reason for old Pazzi to be angrier at his nephew than Lorenzo at Bianca - and don’t give me that “Gugliermo’s honor was threatened too”, because IT WASN’T. Of course it would be much worse and more embarassing for Bianca and her family! She’s a woman! Promised to another man and still supposed to be a virgin! Lorenzo should be negotiating with old Pazzi with tail between his legs, but I guess we couldn’t do that to our precious golden boy, so the show doesn’t make it entirely clear just how big of a leverage old Pazzi has over his family.

- Well, at least he’s forced to make some real concessions, like give up his leverage over old Pazzi, which is to say blocking Salviati from Pisa. But that’s still kinda dumb, because it’s not made clear how can Lorenzo boss the Pisans around, to the point they would close the gates to their own archbishop for him. Like, the real Lorenzo could presumably count on having, like, some high-ranking magistrates there being in debt to his bank, but the show doesn’t bother explaining it. The fact that politics in Rome are simplified to the point of farce is also a bit stupid, like, it’s almost as if there were sum total of three cardinals including Salviati in the entire city of Rome, plus one priest of unspecified rank i.e. uncle Carlo.

- I sincerely hope Lorenzo giving up all gains from the deal with Milan to Bianca’s spurned groom will have some major consequences down the line for the Medici bank, or so help me God... Like, at this point they extended Galeazzo’s loan and got fuck all out of it in the long run, this should be a major hit for the bank!

- And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the subtle foreshadowing that Galeazzo is untrustworthy, because that was truly an eyeroll worthy of Shadow And Bone season 2. Again, I hope this will come back later when Lorenzo will consider turning on Galeazzo somehow, but I am not getting my hopes up on the show being that smart. I mean, Giuliano knowing about Bianca and Gugliermo’s whole deal also didn’t go anywhere. Like, c’mon, people, have some imagination! Magnificent Century would milk the shit out this stuff!

- The crowning moment of stupid in this episode was Francesco de’ Pazzi turning on his uncle, because... He turned on Gugliermo for the whole marriage to Bianca?! Which, fine, Francesco siding with his brother over his uncle is whatever, but to side with the MEDICI for this?! I call incredible bullshit on that.

- This was just straight up not a great episode. It had its moments, but overall the amount of stupid stuff on display in this one lets down the entire show.

#medici: the magnificent #minette watches medici

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thotsforvillainrights · 2 years

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Can I request some domestic everyday life with Skeptic and fem reader? Thanks!

(Absolutely! I love that man so much! I tried not to go into too much detail with the reader I think since I want all Skeptic fans to insert themselves as well, so I hope that was okay!!!)

~Everyday life with Tomoyasu~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Simultaneously the best and worst person to date (in this case I’ll say be married to). Okay let’s take it back, he’s not the worst per se...but he’s got his little quirks and flaws here and there.

-To be honest you had no clue this man had feelings for you when you first met him. You started working at Detnerat and one day a group came to meet with your boss Yotsubashi. They claimed it was a weekly thing so you’d just have to get used to it. In that group, far in the back there he was. You couldn’t see his eyes, just the frown he gave you when he saw you. There was something about him that scared you at first. To be honest it was justified considering he was an asshole to you when you’d first met each other. After Yotsubashi introduced you to everyone (and evaluated whether or not you needed to be in on the loop) you had come to learn his name was Tomoyasu Chikazoku, also operating under the name Skeptic. These days Curious and the others joke about how shocking it is that the two of you were meant to be. The first few times you’d ever spoken to him was when he was insulting your work. “How could the grand leader ever have hired you for this company is beyond me. Look at all the mistakes on this report here alone. You’re certainly lacking in every department that matters and you’re a detriment to not only this company but the Liberation movement as well.”

-Those were a whole lot of mean words for a man that had a fast heartbeat and sweaty hands at the moment.

-He was actually very frustrated with himself that he fell for you. To him it didn’t make a lick of sense. How could someone make him feel this way from simply a first look? It’s like one of those cheesy songs that come on the radio! Yet here he was digging up info about you instead of working. He tried not to dive so deep but it was hard when he was curious about what you did to him. He suspected it was some sort of alluring quirk but to his surprise (because I said so) you were completely quirkless. He wasn’t sure how to address these new feelings he had so he combated them with anger. That’s why every time you came near him he was rude to you. He was hoping maybe he could push you away so he could get back to feeling normal again...so he could focus on something other than you again. It didn’t work of course. You were persistent and he was nothing to you when it came to brutish behavior. You’d heard and been through worse. You combated him with a smile. ‘Kill em with kindness’ was your method and by God it was working. He knew it had gotten out of control when he bugged you with hidden microphone on your lunch date with Trumpet and Curious just so he could gather some intel as to whether or not you were single. He smiled from ear to ear when he heard what he needed to hear. Now he just had to figure out how to stop running and finally ask you to be his. You’d beaten him to punch since Curious gossiped to you that she suspected Tomoyasu as having feelings for you.

-He had never been so annoyed but happy at the same time.

-Some time passed, dates and wedding and whatnot, and here you were. Living with this man was truly something else. He was neat yet clean at the same time. It was like an organized chaos if you will. His office was the absolute worse in the entire house. The wires and various monitors, papers scattered everywhere, oh my God! But every time you try to pick one of them up he stops you. “It’s where I need it to be. If you move it then you’ll mess everything up.” He grumbles while you roll your eyes. “Everything is already messed up, you nitwit.” You tease him with a yank to his hair. He turns around and glares at you for a moment before getting back to work. (He’ll never admit how crazy it makes him feel when you pull his hair. We won’t go into detail unless requested but I’m sure you can imagine it ;)

-Finally you get him to agree to organizing his life somewhat. You get him shelves and cabinets to file away his papers and some wire clamps to organize the mess of electrical spaghetti snaking its way throughout the room. He doesn’t admit he needed this help, but he does thank you silently with a soft kiss. Without you lets be honest, his office would flow out into the rest of the house and he’d be living in a digital nightmare. Speaking of that, he never admits how much he needs you when it comes to his work either. Tomoyasu will work his fingers to the bone if he needed to. Being a board member at Feel Good really takes a toll on most. He’s seen a lot of people get promoted and step right back down after about a month or two of being at the top. It’s a difficult job if you don’t know what you’re doing and sometimes it can be like drowning. He refuses to drown and stays on the top of all of his projects no matter what. The cost of this is him losing his normal sleep schedule. There have been times when he’s stayed up for 2 days straight, only surviving on coffee and crackers as he typed until his fingers cramped up. Now that you were here, you made sure he didn’t do this to himself again. You made sure to force him to take a break even if that meant you needed to grab him by the ear and drag him out of that damned room.

-He was a stubborn man but give it a few minutes of a scalp massage and he’s all yours. You had some sort of magic over him he swears, but right now he’s far too comfy to try and break away from your touches. In fact, it seemed like your touch was the key to basically everything. Your really had the key to his heart honestly. You were like different sides of the same coin. You also tended to keep him in line when his anger ate away at him. It was difficult when he had a public appearance to keep up. No one should be attacked by a member of one of the biggest tech companies there was. That could cost him his reputation AND his job...although he wasn’t too worried considering he had back-up plans at his comrades’ companies. Still, the man had his own demons to battle when it came to his anger. You could always tell when he was slipping away whenever those veins starting popping up on his face and he started gritting his teeth. Once of the things you do to prevent it from escalating to this point is basically never letting him drive when the roads are busy. He has the most road rage between the both of you. Despite him having those little flaws, he never lets his anger get out of control around you. He couldn’t forgive himself if he ever did.

-How lucky for you that he knows how to cook. In fact (unless you’re a certified chef) he cooks better than you. You should take the time to relax while he takes over dinner. When he’s not busy with work then he’s in the kitchen actually cooking something for the both of you to eat. That being said, do not think he can bake just because he can cook. He avoids recipes that require baking things since he somehow manages to always mess them up no matter what.

-He prefers staying in for dates rather than going out. It’s not like he’s allergic to sunlight or anything, he just prefers being in the house with you. This might be annoying if you’re the type of person that likes to go out more than stay indoors. His favorite thing to do is put you in his lap while he runs code for the company. If it begins to bother you that he’s working on date night then he’ll shut it down for you. Sometimes if he’s in the mood, you two dance together in the living room while a speaker plays softly in the background. Times like that feel like the world around you doesn’t exist. It’s just you two in that moment. He can’t help but to close in for a long and passionate kiss on those plump lips of yours that he loves so much. It quickly progresses to the bedroom (if you’re into that).

-During the week you two share chore day and split the chores up around the house based on what the other person wants or doesn’t want to do. For example: You make sure one of his chores is de-clogging the shower and bathroom sink. His hair is a fucking nightmare! Its every damn where in the house and you decided you would rather be on sweep/vacuum duty rather than fighting a drain monster like that. In exchange, one of the things he lets you do is laundry. He hates doing his own laundry so that’s the one thing you HAVE to do. He doesn’t go into detail as to why but you’ll just have to trust him with it.

-Something pretty intimate you do is lounging after a shower with each other. Its maybe an odd thing but who knows. You both sit semi-dry and wrapped in bath towels on the bed with each other. You get behind him and detangle his hair, running the brush through his long locks while he rubs your feet for you. It’s maybe a little strange but it’s just something you two love doing with each other. Another thing is getting him into a face mask with you (which he may or may not deny depending on his mood).

-There are post office trips together, sometimes walks around your neighborhood, or maybe watching the sunset from your back patio. There are the moments when you get in the car and have no real destination, just riding around and belting out your favorite songs together before stopping at a fast food place and pigging out in the back seat together at some random parking lot. No matter what you two do, doing it together seems a hell of a lot better than doing it alone he figures.

He loves you so very much💗

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #skeptic #tomoyasu chikazoku #mla #meta liberation army #skeptic x reader #tomoyasu chikazoku x reader #Headcanon

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donutloverxo · 4 years

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Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#andy barber x reader #good little wife #steve rogers x reader #andy x reader #andy barber x oc #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #defending jacob fic #andy barber fic

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its-an-obsession · 2 years

Text

The Good and the Bad

OBX Masterlist | Full Masterlist

A/N: Never written for Pope before, so I thought I'd go ahead and give a shot. He is by far one of my favorite characters on Outer Banks. Requests are still open, so feel free to leave a request!

Summary: Working at a Kook infested restaurant is not always something to look forward to, but it pays well so that's a plus. All of the Kooks seem to get on your nerves during one shift. After getting home from work, Pope makes a visit before leaving to hangout with others.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick-Name

Y/E/C: Your Eye Color

The Pier -> place you work

Your parents own a mechanic shop

Warnings: Language

Pope Heyward x-reader

"Excuse me, miss! Excuse me!" a woman called after me, keeping an arm raised. Today had been one of the worst shifts I have ever had: some kid spilled his drink on my shoes, I almost burned my hand, and a couple cursed me out over something stupid. Usually, I could bare snotty and rude customers; but today just was an off day. '

"Miss! Hey, excuse me!" the customer repeated.

I apologized the family of three I was currently serving. The nice man reassured me, motioning for me to answer the nagging women's question. The Kook sat at the table wearing a bright pink dress with white high heels, a pearl necklace around her neck matched with pearl earrings.

Her husband sat beside her sporting a yellow polo and green khaki pants. "What can I-" I started. "I ordered a Virgin Bloody Mary, but I can't taste any of the alcohol. I thought I ordered a Virgin Bloody Mary not a Bloody Mary," she interrupted, pushing the drink my way.

Her husband didn't even bother to join in. I withheld a sarcastic remark. "Ma'am, you did order a Virgin Bloody Mary which doesn't have any alcohol in it whereas a regular Bloody Mary does have alcohol," I corrected, "If you would like a Bloody Mary, I can go get that for you."

The women shook her head in disagreement. She huffed in annoyance, pushing her hair away from her face. "No, I want a Virgin Bloody Mary, not what you said," she repeated. "Okay, so you want the one that doesn't have alcohol in it?" I questioned, starting to loose my patience.

She glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes, commenting about how I'm underclass and don't know shit. "Sweetheart, how many times do I need to tell you for it to go through that foggy brain of yours?" she retorted, "I. want. a. Virgin. Bloody. Marry. with. alcohol." The 'Karen' said her last statement slowly, as if I couldn't understand English.

"Ma'am, a Virgin Bloody Mary doesn't have alcohol but a Bloody Mary does. That's the difference, the one you are asking for is a Bloody Mary."

"Oh, honey," she chuckled, "I don't think you understand."

"I understand perfectly, I'm just trying to get you the drink that you desire," I said, "If you would just hear me you, I bet we can come to an understanding." My manager happened to hear the whole conversation. He walked over and set a hand on my shoulder. "What seems to the problem?" Daniel questioned the couple.

"My wife ordered a Virgin Bloody Mary, and she would like a Virgin Bloody Mary with alcohol; but this-this ignorant and brainless Pogue doesn't seem to know what she was talking about," the husband said, "Sir, Daniel I presume, I expect you hire Pogues who are intelligent, not disrespectful and unorganized."

He spoke with venom with his eyes focused on my boss. Daniel nodded his head. "I am deeply sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Clarke. I will get that Virgin Bloody Mary straight away," he said. "Thank you, Daniel, and you better set high expectations for your serves. Don't want this place infested with Pogues," the women said.

Daniel motioned me to the back of the restaurant before ordering another server to give the snobby couple their 'correct' drinks. My boss led me over to his office. "Y/N, why don't you clock out early?" he offered.

"I've got two more hours left of my shift," I said, "You know how much I need this money." My boss shook his head and sat down at his desk, pulling out a sheet of paper. "I suggest you find another job that can meet your needs. Preferably one that doesn't require you to boss around customers," Daniel said, handing the sheet of paper.

I grabbed the sheet of paper from him, making my way towards my cubby. I stuffed my apron into the cubby and slipped my arms through my backpack. Was I seriously just fired over something that was easily fixed if the shitty woman just understood? I unlocked my car and drove home in silence, not bothering to even put my seatbelt on.

Luckily, I got home before my parents did. I put my car into park and hopped out, locking the door behind me. Fortunately, I was hanging out with my friends later which meant I could just relax until then. I wasn't prepared to tell my parents about losing my job. I already knew that they'd take out their stress from work on me.

I changed into my favorite one piece and a pair of blue jean shorts before walking down to the dock. I set my phone beside me, leaning up against one of the wooden pillars with my Y/E/C eyes watching the white clouds fly by with the golden sun being covered every once and awhile.

My sky gazing was interrupted by the sound of tires brushing against the pebbled driveway of my house. I looked up to find Pope leaning his red and blue bike against a thick oak tree that was across the side of my house. He turned to look at me and smiled. "There's my favorite Y/E/C eyed girl," Pope greeted, sitting down beside me. I smiled as he lightly kissed me on the forehead.

"How was work?" he questioned, slipping his sandals off to dip his feet in the cold water. I scoffed and shook my head. I sat beside my boyfriend with my fingers fiddling with a loose thread from my shorts. "That bad, huh?" he said. I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding my head in response.

Pope looked away from my reflection in the water to see a slight tear slide down the side of my face. My boyfriend reached over and wiped the tear away. "I got fired from my job today," I informed, "All because of a fucking Kook didn't know the difference between a Virgin Bloody Mary and a regular Bloody Mary."

Pope's brows raised at the sound of my statement. He fixed the strap of my swimsuit that had somehow fallen. "Your boss really fired you because of that?" he inquired.

"Well, that was just the cherry on top. Earlier, I had a kid spill his red punch on my sneakers. Then, almost burned my hand from a chicken pot pie. Oh, and got cussed out by an old couple who didn't appreciate the way my parents fixed their son's car," I added, "So, my reaction to the Bloody Mary fiasco ended it all. Daniel didn't like my attitude, so he told me, to find another job, and I quote, 'Preferably one that doesn't require you to boss around customers'."

"He's an idiot," Pope commented, looking out at the water (GIF Above). I nodded in agreement and wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. Pope draped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me to his side. He kissed the top of my head. "Wanna stay in tonight? I heard there's a pretty cool documentary about dolphins tonight," Pope offered.

I smiled and looked up at him, my spirits immediately lifting. My wonderful boyfriend looked down at me to see my expression suddenly change. "I would love that," I agreed with a large joyous grin. "Great, because you wouldn't have a choice whatever you said," Pope replied. He got up from the dock and extended a hand, motioning me to the house.

Taglist: @kasidy709 @soflties @elliecool123 @ramaalkayyali

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masterwords · 2 years

Text

ain't no memory that ever gets old (part 1)

Summary: Sean is late to Haley's funeral & Hotch is arrested for the murder of Foyet.

Warnings: Haley's death, grief, mentions of prior abuse, this is a dark one.

Pairing: Will be Hotch/Morgan at some point probably but starts out no pairing.

Words: 6.8k

Sean missed the funeral. Yeah, yeah, he knows. He's a shit brother. But here's the thing.

He'd tried to call in sick.

Even tried to sound sick, and he wasn't a half bad actor. It's just that his boss was an asshole, and maybe he was kind of...sort of...the boy who cried wolf. “You're not fucking sick, Hotchner, the brown bottle flu doesn't work here man.”

“I'm not hungover.” And okay, maybe that was a lie...but it wasn't why he was calling in. He'd worked with worse hangovers plenty of times, in fact he put out some of his best meals with a pounding headache and a sour stomach. Being sick just seemed like the most plausible excuse. He sniffled and stared directly at the dangling light-bulb above his bed until he sneezed. “I think I got what Daisy had...”

Daisy had faked sick a two days ago, so really he was doing her a favor, adding some sort of validation to her story when he knew she was really waiting in line at some scumbag's back alley office to see if she could snag some over priced tickets to Burning Man. Whatever sickness Daisy might get, she would do it at Burning Man and not a minute before. She promised to get him a spot too if he covered for her, but he wasn't going to hold his breath. She hadn't been to work since and was avoiding his texts. Still, she was a perfect scapegoat.

He sneezed again.

“Then take some fucking DayQuil like a man and get your ass to work. I got no one to cook these cops breakfast. Unless you want I should mention a few outstanding bench warrants in your name, huh?”

Sean groaned and agreed to come in, he had no other recourse. He had places to be but one of those places wasn't jail if he could help it. He'd just try to get out early, take advantage of a slow moment. So he wouldn't be there hours before the funeral but he could show up on time...

He wasn't often noble, but this time he thought that the world stacking up against him was just fucking unfair. All he wanted was to go to his fucking brother's ex-wife's funeral, and if that wasn't so damn hard to explain (and such a mouthful anyway) then he would have just been honest. But how do you say “Look, my brother was married to this chick forever and they have a kid together and last week she was murdered by a serial killer who also stabbed him a buncha times in his apartment and I never came home to check on him then so I gotta go now or I'm the world's shittiest brother...”? How do you say that to your boss who wants to turn your ass over to some bacon and egg eating dirt bag in a blue uniform for some unpaid parking tickets?

No. So many things wrong with that. First of all, he was the world's shittiest brother regardless. His showing up would not absolve him of his sins. Hell, he could have shown up at Haley's house in time to save her, maybe even taken the bullet for her, and still earn the title of World's Worst Brother in the grand scheme of things. (His only competition, ironically enough, would be his brother. But Sean knows he's the winner.) He thought about the newspaper clipping his mother sent him in a card with a sad little puppy on the front begging him to call his brother, write to him, go see him. He didn't want to hear from her, but maybe Sean could get through. The puppy stared at him with its huge watery eyes and fat little paws, but her looping cursive turned his stomach and he couldn't do it. A sincere desire for her boys to show care for one another became a heavy expectation and Sean couldn't abide by that. He didn't do expectations, at least not willingly.

Truthfully, he was too afraid of what he'd find if he heard Hotch's voice. Hearing his brother broken, hurting, he'd survived it once and only barely. He didn't think he could do it again. He eventually did send a sympathy card, some brightly colored monstrosity that showcased a teddy bear with bandages all over. He taped a Snoopy band-aid inside and signed his name. Nothing witty or beautiful, just his name.

He never heard back.

So when he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, he worked it all out. He could get Adam to cover for him, Adam could cook scrambled eggs and toast some bread...it wasn't fucking rocket science. They weren't curing cancer, they were making greasy spoon diner breakfast. He could be on the road in time to show up and help with last minute shit, still consider it a win. Or at least a draw. He had no idea what to do at a funeral, the last one he'd attended was his father's and he was a child...but he'd figure it out. Something inside of him just said it was being there that was important.

Like it was his last chance. That was when he figured he could really shine. Pull out all the stops. The Last Chance Kid, that was Sean.

His nicest clothes smelled like smoke even though he'd washed them twice. People smoked in the laundromat, there wasn't much he could do. Maybe he could borrow something of his brother's or Derek's.

Adam didn't buy the family emergency thing when Sean floated leaving early. Argued that earlier he'd claimed to be sick, and now it was a family thing. “What is it really? You trying to go to that orgy in the desert that Daisy's headed to?”

Sean scowled. “That's not today, asshole. And no, I'm not jonesin' to go listen to shitty music, look at shitty art and get some new kind of syphilis and chlamydia mix. My brother had some really bad shit happen and I gotta go help him out.”

“Brother? Ain't never heard you talk about no brother before...” Adam was drunk. At 10:30am, he was drunk. Sean recognized it now, this was a battle he couldn't win. So he went big. He wasn't above begging.

“Yeah, well, he's an FBI Agent so our lifestyles don't exactly...shit man, just help me out. I'll do anything. Name it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Not only did he not get out early, but as he fucked up and dumped his third attempt at a poached egg for one order of Eggs Benedict into the festering trash can, he counted down the hours and knew there was no way he made it to the funeral even on time now. Before he started the next attempt (something he was usually perfect at, it was how he got the job in the first place...best poached egg on the diner scene) he fired off a quick text to Derek letting him know he was stuck at work.

He wasn't going to be able to carry the fucking casket. Asked to be a pallbearer for a woman who had been a real sister to him and he's making poached eggs for guys who would love to see him behind bars. He ended up working three extra hours after that text, covering the lunch rush for the cook who was puking in the alley with his goddamn brown bottle flu. Fucking assholes.

Sean walked out, stormed out really, and told his boss he worked longer than planned. He fucked up his relationship with his brother probably permanently and for what? So, to compensate, he was taking the next three days off out of spite. An attempted power play by a man who couldn't give a shit about the job. And just as expected, his boss told him he could have all the time off he wanted because he didn't need to come back. “We can find someone else to fuck up a dozen eggs, jackass.”

He'd have some damage control to take care of when he got back, but he still used his last twenty bucks to fill up Wilma's tank and hit the road. Wilma, his forever girl, was a cherry red Vincent motorcycle that had belonged to his grandfather. He cared for her better than he'd ever cared for anything in his life. Not a ding or a dent, he rode her well within the posted limits, paid more to keep her garaged off of the street than he did for his own apartment. Wilma would get him to Virginia on his last dime and she would do it purring.

He'd figure out what they were going to do later.

So he showed up after dark. Parked Wilma where he knew he could see her from Hotch's window and sauntered into the building like he owned the place. Pretending, for only his benefit, that he was showing up somehow right as soon as he expected. Except he wasn't. He'd missed the whole fucking funeral. He was supposed to carry the damn casket, they had to find someone else to do it in his place. His brother would play it off, say it was fine, but he knew there was no way he could ever make that up. It was the sort of thing you got one chance at.

Hotch's apartment was dead quiet, and he almost didn't knock, thought maybe he should wait until morning but he knew his brother wouldn't be asleep. Hotch didn't sleep. He paced and he would say he was fine but he was sore or he couldn't turn his head off or his heart off. He simply couldn't shut off.

He used to have a key, but Hotch changed all of his locks after Foyet's intrusion. It was understandable. His key was useless now. But he listened as his brother pulled the chain and clicked the deadbolt...counted three, maybe four different locks. And then his brother's solemn features, cast in shadow, eyes ragged and red from crying or not sleeping. Deep, dark circles cut through his too pale skin. “Sean.”

Not a question, not a greeting, just a flaccid statement. “I'm sorry, Aaron,” he started but Hotch turned his back and limped back into the apartment, headed for the kitchen. He could barely walk, looked like his face and hands had been broken in plenty of places, and he was going to put on some coffee. Figured. Those Southern manners would kill him and he'd die with an apology on his lips for not getting out the good cake for the guests in time.

“I really am sorry. Did Derek tell you what happened? My boss is a fucking asshole...”

“It's alright, Sean.” He didn't want or need Sean's explanation. He'd heard them all before. It wasn't even that he didn't believe them, it was just...well it didn't matter. Didn't need it. End of story.

Sean felt his heart fall right down into his belly. It was heavier than he'd ever imagined it to be. Fuck. “No, it's not. I should have just come. He fucking fired me anyway, little prick.”

“You really don't have to,” Hotch started, placing his palms against the counter and leaning forward, closing his eyes. He'd had a headache all day and it wasn't any better now that his brother was here. “It's okay.” What he meant was that it was done. It wasn't okay, but it couldn't be changed now.

Sean could read between those lines. Maybe he hadn't wanted him there in the first place. Maybe he was glad Sean hadn't come because what if he'd shown up drunk or high, and then he'd had to explain that. Or he thought Sean was just lying again.

They sat in silence over coffee at the dining room table. Hotch looked haunted, he wasn't there half the time. It was just this vacant stare and Derek had warned him, told him Hotch had a really bad concussion, the fight with Foyet had been violent and really Hotch was lucky to walk away from it at all. He couldn't imagine that being true, not his big brother. Sean tried to fill the silence, keeping his voice quiet so he wouldn't wake Jack.

“How's the kid?”

“Why did you come?” Hotch asked bluntly, blinking himself back to reality. He either didn't hear Sean or was ignoring his question, either way Sean couldn't help bristling a little. “You missed the funeral. Why did you bother at all?”

Sean was six when Hotch was sent to boarding school. Six when he went from being the baby to being the only. Six when he was thrust into the knowledge that his family wasn't what it seemed. That, he blamed Hotch for. Hotch had gone to great lengths to protect Sean from it...he would wake him in the morning, make him breakfast, walk him into town for school early. Before the bells rang. They would go to the library, or get a donut, play catch...Hotch just said he wanted to spend a little extra time with his brother, but Sean found out the hard way that it wasn't exactly true. When Hotch was sent to boarding school, Sean became the sounding board. Not a lot of fists, but a lot of nasty words. “Just like your worthless brother,” his father would scowl and Sean couldn't understand what he meant. He didn't have a worthless brother.

“Sean?”

“I'm sorry. I guess I thought you might still want me to be here...help you out...”

“Help with what, exactly? Are you an expert at something I wasn't aware of? Parenting? Grief counseling?”

Sean was seven when he found out his father was sick and dying. Seven when Hotch came home for the summer and the whole family learned the truth. About the cancer, about the infidelity. He was seven when he first saw his brother smoking out behind the shed. Smoking and crying. Trembling hands and scattered butts at his feet. Seven when his brother's stutter came back. He never even knew it had existed before, years of speech therapy had all but torn it out of him until the stress of their father getting sick brought it all back. A father he hated and still couldn't come to terms with losing.

“I'm sort of an expert on you,” Sean offered vaguely. Hotch laughed. It was joyless, and he reached up to swipe at the burn of tears that he couldn't seem to stop. Sean didn't let that deter him. “I know you're standing here pretending to be some macho caveman who doesn't cry for my benefit. Like you always have. But you don't know how many times I've seen you cry, Aaron. You cry more than anyone I've ever known.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying you might fool everyone else with this act of yours, this ice cold frowny face you put on but you don't fool me. I spent all the best years of my childhood following you around, trying to be just like you. Look what it got me.” It was a low blow, he knew it, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. Most people who met Hotch were too afraid to tell him what they really thought, he could be intimidating and cruel looking. Sean knew better.

Sean was eight when Hotch ran himself a hot bath and took a razor blade to his wrists. Eight when he saw the fogged up mirror and the blood pooling on the floor where Hotch's hand hand fallen limp, dangling over the edge of the tub. He screamed so loud he could still feel it vibrating in his bones today. And he was eight when Haley and his mother rushed Hotch to the hospital and Jessica stayed with him. They said the marks were hesitant, that he didn't really want to die, and locked him up for the second time. There was hope...but under their breath Sean heard the doctor say he might not survive a third attempt. To his knowledge, his brother never made that third attempt.

Looking at him now, he wasn't sure it was off the table yet.

Sean cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting in his seat. Hotch stared down into his untouched coffee like he might fall in. “How's Jessica doing?”

“She...” A tear fell directly into his cup. Plop, it hit the surface and sent tiny fractal rings away from its salty core. “She'll be here in the morning. I have some things to take care of.”

“Of course she will. Always bailing you out.” He meant it as a joke, at least he thought he did. It was sort of his thing, joking about the way Jessica was about him. About how she was always there cleaning up his messes. Jessica, his shadow. Maybe there was a ring of truth to it. Hotch didn't seem to find it funny.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Sean leaned forward and tried to drag Hotch's attention to him. To lock eyes, touch the depth of his thoughts and sadness. “Nothing. You need help tomorrow?”

“No, thank you,” Hotch whispered back. They sat in silence over the steaming coffee while Hotch gathered himself back up, swiped at the few escaped tears and pretended they never happened. Sean didn't push any harder. He knew the limits, he'd spent years carefully calculating exactly how far he could push before he went too far. It was easy now.

“Is Derek helping you?” Derek, the only person from his team that Sean knew to mention. The only one he'd met, years and years ago, a lifetime maybe. It seemed like a fair guess, made him feel like he knew more than he did. Hotch didn't get upset or mock his attempt, he only shook his head sadly and stared down at his tear riddled coffee sadly.

“They have a case.”

“So...whatever this is...you're doing it alone?”

Hotch only stared at him and for the first time Sean really took it all in. How thin he was, how pale and drawn his face was, the deep bruises beneath his eyes. “Look, I'm sorry I missed Haley's funeral. I really am,” he said, putting one hand on top of his brother's. “I loved her. She was my sister. You know she still sent me birthday and Christmas cards? Even after she left. So did Jess. I'd like to see her.”

Sean waited, and Hotch remained silent. He wasn't exactly trying to pull himself together, but he wasn't offering anything else either. His headache was preventing much thought, nothing seemed to want to connect, and none of Sean's words really made any sense. Insomnia, concussion, grief, anxiety...he couldn't separate them anymore. They were him and he was them. “Where can I smoke around here?”

“There's a courtyard,” Hotch whispered, sniffling. He reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out a little white handkerchief, rubbing his nose with it. So careful to keep his thumb over the stitched initials. “I'll show you.”

He walked Sean out the back door and gave him the code, telling him he couldn't stay outside with him because Jack was asleep. He couldn't leave him alone, but he handed him a key and walked away without looking at him. No eye contact. Just sadness. So he started in the courtyard, lighting up one cigarette and then wandering until he was sitting on Wilma's seat and staring up into the sky. He was out there nearly an hour considering what the hell he was even doing. Here with his brother, with his life, he had no idea. No job, no money, he found someone who would sublet his place so maybe he'd stick around in Virginia for a while. Nothing tethering him, he was floating on the wind again.

Hotch was in bed by the time Sean came back inside. The lights were out, but there was a pillow and some blankets on the couch waiting for him. Good enough, at least he could stay. He passed out fast and easy, still in his clothes.

Hotch got up in the middle of the night. Sean remembered that, albeit a little sluggishly. He wasn't sure his brother had ever slept a full night in his life that wasn't drugged and forced. He did his best not to wake Sean, had honestly forgotten he was even there until he was about to lay on the couch and found a body there. He sat himself in the chair, doubled over in pain, his stomach was killing him. Phantom pains, memories like flames trickling over his skin. Each scar seared, screamed to life like Foyet was driving the knife in molten hot. Not real, he knew. None of the pain was real, he was just...sometimes the nightmares just felt too real. Sometimes he woke and still smelled the stink of Foyet's breath, his sweat, his skin. He couldn't scrub his body clean hard enough.

“Aaron?” Sean rasped, half asleep. His mouth was parched and he knew it came out slow and fuzzy sounding. “That you?”

“Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you.”

Sean sat up. Like a starving zombie, he pulled himself upright with drool dried on his cheek and his hair standing up in unruly blonde spikes. He smacked his dry lips and tried to give them some life. Water, he needed water, so he stumbled to the kitchen and filled two glasses. Manners. Handing one to his brother, he sat back down and opened his throat like he was going to chug a beer. The whole glass went down in one gulp. Hotch had only set his to his lips, sipped enough to wet his tongue and nothing more. He thought for sure he was going to be sick.

“You still don't sleep.”

Hotch had nothing to say to that. He hugged his arms tight against his midsection and willed the pain to ease up. Just a little.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“No.”

Sean laughed and fumbled around for the remote anyway. The moment the television was clicked to life, he knew his brother would relax or go back to bed. Either way, no awkward attempt at conversation.

He moved painfully slow to the couch, barely standing, still hunched over and Sean shared his blanket. There were plenty of fun action movies on, but he wasn't after watching a movie...this had always been Hotch's trick, and now was his chance to throw it back into his brother's face. Find the most dull, boring excuse for cinema available and turn it on nice and low. Humming quiet. Tonight he chose Jeremiah Johnson, a personal favorite but so slow and so quiet that Hotch was asleep with his head tipped back against the cushions within the first fifteen minutes. They were pressed against each other, and Sean waited until he thought they were all clear before tipping his brother to the side and covering him up. They were too long to share the couch, so Sean took the floor. “Never say I didn't do anything for you...” he whispered, curling up on his side on the rug and using his jacket for a pillow. He could have gone and taken Hotch's bed, or the guest room, but something nagged at him and told him to stay close.

Waking didn't bring any epiphanies, didn't bring any magical enlightenment, it only brought a throbbing headache and confusion. Hotch didn't remember falling asleep on the couch. In a fog, he slid his legs over the side and kicked something on the floor. His eyes wouldn't focus, he could only vaguely make out the shape of his brother there and memory washed over him slowly.

Not just the night before. For a few blissful moments, he'd forgotten all of it. It was all white washed and shiny. And then slowly the darkness began creeping back in until it engulfed him.

Foyet was dead and gone, so everyone kept reminding him. A reality he had to reacquaint himself with each and every morning since it happened. A silly thing, too, because he knew that part. He knew the who, the what, the where, the when, even the why...he just didn't seem to have a firm grasp on the how. Professor Plum in the parlor with a candlestick? Agent Hotchner over Foyet's body with his fists.

So they said. And had the busted up hands that made it hard to argue except he just...had no memory of it.

Hotch wasn't an idiot. He knew Foyet wouldn't be back. He'd never believed in ghosts, and maybe if someone had just told him in a roundabout way that Foyet was dead he might have some doubts...the man had ways. But he'd seen to it himself.

Maybe it had been Derek to slide his finger up under what was presumably Foyet's jaw, what was left of it anyway, and maybe it was him to confirm that no more blood pulsed through his veins. But Hotch's hands and his fury had done all there was to do.

He knew that. Derek and Dave and Emily, they all saw him. And they wouldn't lie to him.

But he had no memory of it. His doctor had said adrenaline would account for much of it, everything went black the moment he saw Haley there. She was a body, no soul, and he'd gone black. Everything between seeing her and the weight of Derek's arms tight around him was an empty void. “It's better that way,” Spencer had whispered to Derek while they finished up in the house. “You saw Foyet's body. It's better that he doesn't remember.”

“Better for who? The Bureau wants to crucify him for the bad press...” JJ interjected, pushing them into a hallway away from the sights of peeping journalists who already knew too much. “We've got to get something out of him.”

They'd tried a cognitive interview. He didn't want to, but the Bureau wanted to know, they needed their facts. They'd already made up their minds, though. JJ could read it on their faces...tired of the rogue BAU team, willing to send him to the firing squad to make everything else go away.

When given the choice of everyone on the team, he asked JJ to do the cognitive. Everyone had expected Dave or Derek, given their years of history, or Emily who had seen his apartment at its worst right after Foyet and already gone through his personal things. Spencer knew it wouldn't be him, and JJ..well, she wasn't even a profiler. Thought she was safe.

JJ was safe. For him. He looked at her, sitting across from him in the conference room, and she gave him those eyes and that smile and he felt safe with her. There wasn't anything to hide, he knew that.

But his mind hid it anyway. “Tell me what you saw, what you smelled, what you felt...” she said and his mind couldn't help flashing on a day that felt like yesterday and ancient history all wrapped up in one. A day when she'd been brand new, and no she wasn't a Field Agent but Hotch had a vision for his team and in that vision they could all pick up the slack for everyone. Each of them would have their specialty, but each of them could back the other up. Others called him crazy for training a Communications Liaison to do cognitive interviews, but he knew better.

“Hotch? What do you see?”

He smiled. “Sorry, I was just thinking about the day I taught you how to do this...”

She couldn't help it, she felt her eyes fill with tears as she pictured the day fresh as summer sun. “I remember.” Strauss had pitched a fit, asked him what reason he could posibly have for training her to do this. But he'd been so gentle. Let her do her first on him. She picked the day Jack was born, had him go through the whole thing. Later, as she was giving birth to Henry, she would reflect on what he'd told her. “Can you tell me what you saw when you walked into your...Haley's...house?”

His smile vanished, and his eyelids twitched while his mind fought against the memory. “Nothing. Everything in its place. The door was unlocked. Haley had redecorated...I didn't...” he paused, frowning. “I didn't recognize the couch. The walls were a different color.”

“Okay, good. Haley had redecorated her house...where did you go?”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I went to the kitchen, because I knew...I knew no matter what she changed, she would keep an emergency flashlight in a drawer. I had this list in my office, a checklist of emergency items to keep stocked and where to have them...Haley always likes to be prepared, she wanted to be safe when I wasn't home.”

“Good,” she whispered, swiping at a tear. She wasn't sure she could go through with this. Everything from this moment forward was wrong and she knew it. The flashlight was easy, the checklist was sweet. There would be nothing good after that moment. “What did you do once you had the flashlight?”

“I cleared rooms. One by one. The house was so quiet...”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was trying not to breathe too loud. I didn't want...I didn't know...I thought I should be able to hear Jack or...” His breath was coming in shaky, drawn in great ragged bursts through splintered ribs. “I saw the blood at the...I saw it going up the stairs...”

“Could you smell anything? Was it still silent?”

“I smelled the blood. And the other...” he let out a dragging cough, like he was there now. Like he was going to be sick. “I can smell her. And I thought maybe Foyet was bluffing on the phone, until I smelled it. She's dead, I know it, I know that smell. It happens every time. No one warns you about that smell. I knew it was coming from her. Foyet can fake many things, but not that.”

She felt her gag reflex screaming and clawing at the back of her throat. That smell, that brown and rotten smell of the muscles dying and going limp, everything evacuating that had once been life. That he had to associate that with Haley now and forever...she thought she might be sick. Almost hated him for choosing her to do this, out of any of them. Derek had a strong stomach, Emily barely knew Haley, Rossi...god anyone but her. She and Haley had play dates with Jack and Henry. Babies. She called Haley in the middle of the night when she couldn't get Henry to sleep no matter what she tried. Haley passed all of Jack's old baby clothes and toys on to her, gave her solid advice, was a friend. But he picked her. She sucked in a deep breath and swallowed her sick.

“And then you saw her...”

“She was lying on the floor. She only had one shoe on. Her eyes were open...”

This was it. Was she going to get what she needed? They were hovering on the edge of his memory.

“Did you go to her?”

“I don't....no, I don't...” His eyes shot open, terror stricken and shining with tears. “I don't know. I don't know what I did. I'm sorry JJ. I was there, I was right there, staring at her, smelling her...and then everything is just black.”

“Okay, it's okay Hotch. You're doing great. Can we try one more time? Go right back there to when you saw her.”

He nodded, he was willing but he looked so scared and she went from hating him to herself in an instant. This was monstrous, she was a monster. “Whatever you need.”

“Okay. You're looking at Haley. Her eyes are open, where are they looking?”

“She's looking straight at me. I can see the blood on the floor, on her neck, it's soaking her shirt. It's so much blood.”

“And her shoe, where is her other shoe?”

“Her toenails are black. She's painted them. I've never seen her use that color before, it looks nice.”

“And her shoe?”

“There's blood on her foot. I don't...it's...I don't see it. I'm trying not to cry because I can't see...I'm sweating...I see other shoes, beneath a curtain..my heart, it feels like it's going to explode, it hurts, I can't breathe...JJ I can't breathe...”

He was hyperventilating. She'd heard Emily talk about people doing that in interviews, like they were right there experiencing it all and she hadn't believed her. Sounded ridiculous. “We're not hypnotists,” she'd criticized, but she owed Emily an apology she supposed. She was beside him in a flash, her hand on the back of his neck, her face so close to him. “Open your eyes Hotch, it's okay. We'll try again later.” His chest shuddered beneath her touch and for a minute she thought he was going to cry, really really cry, but he didn't. He let out one enormous sob, the kind that looks like it hurts, and then it was gone. He was staring at his hands again.

“Maybe someone else might...”

“No.”

And that was it, that was all they did. He wouldn't talk to anyone else, but she filled out her report the best she could and returned it to Strauss, leaving out the bit about Haley's toenails. She'd let Hotch keep that one for himself. It was the only moment that seemed to offer him even the slightest reprieve from the hell he was wading through.

After the cognitive failed to give them what they were looking for, Strauss was forced to launch a full-scale investigation into what happened. Not just Hotch under scrutiny but the actions of the entire team. He'd never felt like such an utter failure, such a monster, in his life. This was his problem, this was his responsibility and his loss...not theirs. Strauss didn't see it that way, and he knew it was less that than the higher ups looking at him through the magnifying glass of her eyes.

She'd never liked him. That much was a given. And for the most part, the feeling was mutual, but even he knew there were strings being pulled here. She was the AD's marionette, dancing for him to keep her own job secure. If he was a problem, they could just push him out. But if the whole team was found guilty of abusing their power? That would fall on her, too. She'd find herself packing her office into boxes.

She wouldn't go down for him. That much he knew. And to be totally fair, he wouldn't for her either.

So he took it on the chin and answered her questions. He didn't bother advising the team what to say, how to handle it, they could be honest. He hoped they would be, didn't want them in trouble on his account.

They hadn't done anything wrong. He had. And maybe the committed would find him to be justified...Foyet was trespassing on his property, the house was still in his name, he paid the property taxes and the mortgage. Foyet had murdered Haley in his home and he intended to harm Jack...there were justifications but at the end of the day, two bodies were cold in that house and only one was life was ended by Foyet's hand.

The other was his. With hands that were so bruised and cut up that he couldn't hold a glass of water for any length of time, couldn't flex his fingers around a knife or a spatula to make Jack dinner, couldn't turn a doorknob without multiple attempts. Sean staying with them since the day of the funeral had at least been good for something. He could use a damn can opener and cut the carrots and onions. He could unlock the door and he hadn't dropped the carton of milk all over the floor.

“Get those looked at,” Jessica told him when he tried to grip the fridge door handle. He gritted his teeth, set his jaw, and clasped his hand tight around the handle, pulling it open. Proving her wrong. Sean had rolled his eyes and made a comment about how wrong she was. “See? He can do it himself.”

She glowered at them both, neither liking the refusal to accept reality nor the latent sarcasm. Instead she pushed him out of the way and nabbed a few ice packs from the freezer. “Sit.” That was it. He didn't even grab the milk from the fridge, he was just going to pour some for Jack to go with the meal Jessica was preparing...trying to help out...but he found himself listening to her anyway. Sitting at the table with his hands splayed out before him, an ice pack set gingerly on each. “Fifteen minutes. Do not move.”

She made Sean do the rest.

“Have they come to a conclusion yet?” Dave asked, handing Hotch a glass of scotch. The team had just returned from a case, and he was beat, but he had to see Hotch. In fact each of them, in their own way, had hinted that they might but only Dave actually did.

Derek had a full night of paperwork to finish, and everyone else...well they had their reasons. He would never blame them for a single one. “No, Strauss says they had a few other people they wanted to talk to.”

“They were waiting for us to get back. That's a bad sign.��

“For whom?” He knew, though. Hotch wasn't an idiot. His head was on the chopping block.

Dave leveled his glare. “One of us goes down, we all go down. We're a team.”

Hotch shook his head, setting the full glass of amber liquid down on the table and flexing his sore hand. “No, Dave. Not this time. This was my failure, this was my mistake and if someone other than Haley has to pay for it...”

He didn't need to worry in the end. Strauss managed to find Derek in his office pouring over the case details with a cup of coffee beside him in a mug that read in big bold letters COFFEE MAKES ME POOP thanks to Spencer's wry sense of humor. It was already half empty and there was another brewing in the pot down the hall. “Agent Morgan...a word?”

She shut the door behind her ominously, and Derek sighed. He was absolutely not in the mood for her shit tonight. Or any night, really, but especially not this one. There was no one else in the damn building, why did she need to shut them in like that? No good reason, that was for sure.

“We need to talk.”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at her in silence, waiting for her to continue. He wouldn't say a word. Whatever she was here for, it wasn't going to require his input.

“The committee has just come to a decision.”

“At midnight?”

“It was a serious matter, and they have been working around the clock. Agent Morgan, they are recommending Agent Hotchner's arrest. His cognitive interview is disturbing, and while I advocated that he has always been forthcoming with information even when it would damn him, that he is rarely self-serving...they weren't convinced. They insist that you make the arrest with a member of local law enforcement.”

Derek wasn't sure he was breathing anymore. His fingers were numb. “Me?”

“You are the acting Unit Chief, this is your department. What happened in that house is your responsibility...”

“Then you arrest ME,” he growled through gritted teeth. “If it's my fault, go ahead and mirandize me right now.”

He knew it was really fucking dramatic, but he shoved his hands toward her anyway. Balled into fists, ready to be cuffed. He was the only one in the room who carried cuffs, he knew damn well, but it felt good to watch the startled look cross her face for just a moment.

“Put your hands down, Derek. That isn't how this works. Get in touch with the police and find someone to accompany you, they can make the arrest under your supervision if it's too...personal...for you. I won't be a stickler for whose name is on that paperwork.”

She almost looked emotional, like she as doing him a favor letting him stand back and let Hotch be manhandled by someone else. He nearly thought he saw tears in her eyes...but he also didn't care. “I'm not finished with this, Agent Morgan. I won't let them make him into a monster but this may take time.”

Derek stood. No matter how emotional she seemed, he was furious. Her bright eyes did nothing to abate his anger. Unable to be calmed by her empty promises, no matter how she believed them to be brimming with life. Full. She would get him exonerated and have his name cleared. He wouldn't stand trial for putting down a known serial killer in his own home...they just had to buy some time.

“They can only hold him for up to 72 hours without charging him,” she said quietly, as if it would help. He understood what she meant, they had 72 hours from the time he was booked to find a way to convince them not to proceed. Foyet had no living family, no one to charge on his behalf. They had bigger fish to fry.

“Yeah,” Derek scoffed in return. “You know, I've done some really fucked up things for the Bureau in my life...”

She closed her eyes and willed the tight sting of emotion out of her chest. “Agreed. Goodnight, Agent.”

He snarled. Goodnight. Yeah, for you, he thought. You get to go home and sleep. I get to grab a police officer and head to Hotch's house and destroy a whole family already on the brink.

#aaron hotchner #sean hotchner #derek morgan #jessica brooks #jennifer jareau #erin strauss #criminal minds #fanfiction

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sunshinespear · 2 years

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it’s midnight and i’m back to desperately wishing for the fanfic that goes like:

you’re tywin lannisters fourth child that he had (somehow) (also you dont have a mom bc plot) and you’re already an old maid by the court’s standards (20-something *shock and horror*) so you’re being pressured to marry by your house. so when your nameday gets near there’s a big week-long ball and everyone in the seven kingdoms is invited and you’re supposed to find the most dynastically advantageous husband out of them all but you hate them all---

then dorne pops up (who the fuck thought they were actually going to accept the invitation. they didn’t even rsvp) and everyone’s like oooo drama and you and prince oberyn meet and like he’s cute or whatever but he’s also annoying and your families hate each other so you two HAVE to hate each other but oh no he’s hot oh no he’s nice oh no he’s a really good dad oh no he’s so sweet and protective to his paramour ellaria (also really nice and sweet and hot and a great mom -- also you respect her so much even though you’re a lady from literally The Worst noble family and she’s “just” a Sand and that makes you ~different~ so they both like and respect you more) and then slowly over the course of the weeklong festivities you get into more scenarios where you turn from butting heads into getting to know them both better and slowly start to fall for each of them ---

but twyin is just a cunt and he’s like “you’re not allowed to be seen with them because they have a bad reputation, also here’s your not friendly reminder that you have to get married, you old hag. and yeah i know i said i would let you pick your husband-” (bc you argued for it bc the patriarchy cannot get you down even in medieval times, you are a boss bitch lioness so these bitches can hear you rawr and thats why you won the argument with tywin - you’re just that amazing and stubborn) “-so i know i said i would let you pick but i picked for you, go accept his proposal now” and you’re like “oh my god my life is over and i can never be with these people i truly care about and they’ll never want me because our houses are ~eNeMiEs~” or whatever

AND THEN the most shocking plot twist ever, prince oberyn likes you back and he’s like “nah fuck it. i’ll fight your dad, i’ll fight your brother, i’ll fight whoever the fuck this loser that thinks he’s gonna propose to you is. i’m fighting everybody, ok. what’s good?”

so you’re like in the great hall and literally in the middle of getting proposed to (today is finally the last day of the ball and also your official nameday) and he’s just like “I OBJECT” or something andddddd then there’s like some arguing or whatever but then homie just looks at this dude you’re supposed to be marrying and is like “i’m entitled to a fair duel with you for her. soooo if you really like her that much duel me and draw my blood first” and whoever that punk is is STUCK okay because tywin is terrifying but so is DUELING THE RED VIPER so anyway that dude just gives up. he’s like “no thank you, i like living, you can have her”

so, tywin is PISSED but what’s he gonna do? the man with the worst reputation at court just said he wants you and he’ll fight anybody about it. so now your reputation is kinda fucked by proxy and you don’t even care and you’re telling him in front of the whole court that you caught feelings too. what can tywin even do? he has to just accept it and try to leverage it later (that will not work, because he’s been abusive to you since you were a child and you’re finally with the one person who’s not afraid of him who is also a member of the one family he cannot touch).

so you get to marry prince oberyn in the end and be with him and ellaria in dorne making love and having babies for forever YAY.

also this is a blast from the past story so it’s before all the main events of the show. ellaria is pregnant in this and she’s just walking around looking like a goddess of fertility and beauty and flowers and love. actually as a matter of fact you spend the first few days wanting to punch oberyn but you and ellaria get along like you’ve known each other your whole lives and that drives him INSANE because at this point he’s still in denial that he likes your ass meanwhile you and the love of his life are just doing hot girl shit together. ellaria knows him well enough to know he likes you (beyond wanting to fuck you, which he absolutely does) and that he hasn’t realized it yet and she spends most of her time teasing him about it.

so anyway, tywin also tries to be really mean to you about ellaria at some point in this story like trying to insinuate that you’ll never matter to oberyn bc of her or he’ll try to bargain with oberyn that he has to give ellaria up in order to marry you and the three of y’all are like “...HA HA. anyways soooo... back to doing whatever tf we want” and then y’all all live happily ever after. the end.

oh also there’s like some sort of gift giving ceremony at some point early in the week and prince oberyn gives you this young dornish stallion that hasn’t been broken yet (IT’S A METAPHOR). so everyone who is dornish laughs and is like “yeah exactly, give the lannisters an unbroken stallion that’s gonna try to kill whoever rides it. haha yes. that will send a Message” and everyone that’s not dornish is like “oop time to brutally abuse this animal and try to break it” but of course they’re all dummies and you know 1) you’re gonna make this horse Your Horse, and that 2) abusing it to break it will never work. but the not-dornish court people literally try to abuse your new horse right in front of you

so you’re just like “i will literally stab anyone who touches my new horse” and everyone’s like *eyes emoji*, “wot,” but everyone leaves it alone and let’s you work with the horse while it tries to literally kill you. then over the course of the week while you’re falling in love with oberyn, the b-plot is that you’re slowly earning the trust of this horse that he gave you every day that you’re working with it and eventually by the morning of your nameday (just after tywin told you he picked you out a husband and you think you’re life is over) the horse finally likes you enough to let you ride it (which the dornish thought you never would be able to) without having to “break it” (as everyone else wanted you to). this fills you up with hope yknow bc you’re about to go accept this proposal you don’t want and you had almost lost hope but at the same time this spirited creature with almost as much stubbornness as you has finally let you in. and riding it feels like freedom and you’re kinda like “yknow what i’m always going to keep this horse with me to remind me to have an unbreakable spirit” so it’s actually very deep and meaningful okay bitch and you’re able to go into that court that morning with your head held high

SO THE HORSE METAPHOR: both you and the horse are unbroken by your evil awful family and also you slowly earned the horse’s trust and affection without forcing anything, keeping the horse unbroken, the same way you slowly earned prince oberyn’s (literal house words: unbowed, unbent, unbroken) trust and affection. so the narrative is kinda paralleled/foretold by what’s going on with the horse and both you and oberyn are represented by the horse in different ways. maybe the same morning the horse finally trusts you enough to let you ride it is the same morning oberyn realizes the full brunt of his feelings and decides to take action about it. maybe that’s too on the nose and i should stop with the horse metaphor.

also optional extra detail if you want: you’re different from the rest of your family because while they all have blond hair, you have a mane of black hair. symbolically and physically, you are the “black lioness” of the family (and the court may have nicknamed you as such). you are the one who is so wildly different from the rest and eventually leaves to find where you do belong because of it

And then I remember this fic only exists in my head and if i want to read i’m gonna have to WRITE. IT. ew.

#yes this is cringe and it is my happiness #this is literally the movie that plays in my head and on paper it sounds WACK #but in the big screen in my head *chef's kiss*#prince oberyn #oberyn x reader #ellaria x reader #oberyn x ellaria x reader #oberyn x you #ellaria x you #oberyn x ellaria x you #house martell #ellaria sand

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fangirl-creates · 3 years

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The Most Unlikely Thing

A Stolitz Wedding One-Shot

Inspired by this lovely art by @sator-the-wanderer on Instagram (Link at the end)

(Note: This is my first time writing with Helluva Boss Characters—I was worried they wouldn’t be in character, but I hope you enjoy!!)

Most would say a night like this would never happen. That it was one of the many outlandish and downright ridiculous thoughts that appeared within the mind of anyone who knew them. If you said it outloud, you’d get a quick laugh out of the person you told, then the subject would be changed in an instant-as if it was never said at all.

Moxxie had that thought once. Right around 2AM he woke up from an uneventful dreamscape, and processed the thought with every ounce of his intellect. Even after that, it still made no sense. He turned to Millie’s side, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Millie? Are you awake?”

His wife stirred for a moment, a small yawn before she responded. “Yeah, Moxx?” She mumbled.

“I...had a weird thought..” He sat up, running his hand through his snow-white hair, soon scratching the top of his head.

“What was it?” She sat up a little, both curious and worried about what he might be thinking.

“Well-” He paused for a moment, giving the room a good look around before he continued. If a certain someone was here, listening, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “It’s about Blitz and uh...Prince Stolas.”

Millie’s golden eyes widened as her tail started swishing like a curious cat. Any worry she had was gone, now she wanted to know all the details surrounding this. “Well?? Don’t keep me in suspense!” She smiled eagerly, shaking him by the arm a little.

“So like...and this is just a hypothetical..” He chuckled, smiling nervously for a quick second. “I just wondered for a second...well..” At this moment their eyes were locked, Moxxie’s face now torn between smiling or frowning. He had no idea what to feel. “Do you think they could ever...end up like us?”

Millie tilted her head, raising a brow. “Ya mean like...married ‘n stuff?”

Moxxie nodded a few times. “Yeah, Yeah! Do you...do you think-?”

She put a hand on her chin. “Well...I don’t think it isn’t possible. I mean...I’m pretty sure...excluding their little agreement...maybe they do like each other..”

“Do they though?” He started to lay down again, now staring at the ceiling. “I mean clearly Stolas likes him to the point where he won’t stop gushing over him. But...Blitz?”

“Who knows, hon. Blitz hardly talks about how he really feels. Maybe he does. And maybe one day they will…” The last thing didn’t sound so sure.

Moxxie turned his head. “But?”

“All relationships are complex, Moxx. And those two? Hell, it could take them years before they even think about something like that. But then again…”

“What?”

“Sometimes the thing you least expect might happen sooner than you think.”

Moxxie blinked a couple times, squinting a bit. “Sooo...you do or you don’t think they could-” He was interrupted by Millie giving him a kiss on the lips. She turned the light off next, shifting back into her sleeping position.

“Goodnight, Moxxie.”

Moxxie sighed, slowly closing his eyes as sleep began to cloud his mind again.

He still couldn’t believe he actually thought that. Although it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it still surprised him no less. But despite how much he just wanted to forget it, it made him think about what Millie said.

It was true Blitz was starting to show a small glimmer of affection towards the Goetian Prince, especially since the rescue from a few nights ago. The concern and sudden display of power through a demonic transformation was enough to make Blitz gawk at the sight of it. And the way Stolas gently cupped his face asking if he was alright afterwards made everyone else in the room stare, Blitz feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole situation.

Yet it still made him think that maybe...just maybe something like that could happen. But that wasn’t up to him. Whatever they decided would leave this idea, this thought, completely within the hands of faith itself.

And with that, Moxxie fell asleep.

———————

Three years ago, it was never spoken of outside of that one night. And neither of the two had ever acted upon such a decision until much much time had passed. But now the stars were in their favor.

The sky was a dark, beautiful crimson that had mixed with a captivating wine purple. The stars were scattered, dusting the sky and turning it into a dazzling display of twilight.

They had kept it small, the only ones being present were close friends and family—which was basically four people. But it didn’t matter how many people were there, or where they did it. All that mattered was that it happened—which had ended up on the roof of I.M.P’s office building.

The vows had been short, with a few important bits here and there; Moxxie having to be both the one to wed them and the best man to the boss himself. He wasn’t sure he had the exact authority to do so, but both explained it was better than having someone else they didn’t know. Because once this got out, they’d have a whole other thing to deal with. But that was a future problem they would solve when it became relevant to them.

Blitz was given a stepstool so he could reach Stolas without having to stand on the tips of his toes. He didn’t want the stepstool, saying that he’d look like a complete joke. But if Stolas had to lift him up for this part, he would be unable to think clearly from the embarrassment.

Stolas didn’t seem to care how many people were present, or where they decided to host the reception. There was only one thing that mattered in this moment, and the smile of genuine compassion refused to leave his face the entire night. Blitz looking up with him while trying to contain himself only seemed to make him smile more. He was adorable.

Both eagerly waited for Moxxie to finish up, Blitz trying to keep himself from falling off the stool by how much he was moving. Of course he stood perfectly still once he heard the last few words out of Moxxie’s mouth.

“You may now kiss—”

Blitz practically jumped into Stolas’ embrace, quickly locking lips with him as the two slowly started to get lost in intimacy.

The four clapped while giving the newly weds smiles of congratulations. But those quickly faded away when they noticed the two weren’t paying attention anymore. The passionate kissing lasted for almost two minutes before Loona had to break them away from each other.

“Hey, lovebirds. Maybe wait till none of us can see you.” She rolled her eyes, putting Blitz down after basically pulling him off of Stolas.

Blitz put a hand on his head, taking a look around. “Oh shit, I forgot we were doing this.”

Stolas bent over with a light chuckle, booping Blitz’s nose. “-and aren’t you so glad we did, Blitzy~?”

The Imp pushed his face away as he blushed a bit more. “Yeah yeah just…don’t make it a bigger deal than it already is..”

“Looks like someone’s trying to pretend he can’t be romantic for once.” Moxxie smirked, making Blitz turn around in retaliation. His face was now a different form of red.

“Well you know what, Moxxie?! You—!” Then he stopped, biting his lip as he put his accusing finger away. “You…did..a good job…tonight..” He mumbled under his breath.

Moxxie kept smirking, raising a hand to where his ear would be. “Oh, what was that? Could you repeat what you said a little louder?”

Blitz shifted uncomfortably, hoping this was the last time. None of this was like him. And in front of his entire friend circle too!

“You…didagoodjobtonight..” He said it louder as per Moxxie’s request, just a bit faster than normal. Now everyone heard him…however-

“Maybe a little louder…and slower?” He leaned in closer.

“Goddammit, Moxxie! I already held back insulting you just let me have this!” He snapped a little, making everyone else just laugh in response. Moxxie put a hand on his shoulder, his smile genuine.

“Thanks, Blitz.”

———————

The rest of the wedding had lasted a couple hours. Since the group was so small, dancing and talking underneath Hell’s strangely unnatural starlight felt more meaningful.

Eventually, M&M had to leave. But they wished the two best of luck, the wedding present they got the only thing left of them from tonight. Octavia and Loona decided to head inside the office to give their dads space. Now that they were legally sisters, hanging out would feel more genuine. Like you had someone else there looking out for you. Loona now was able to shout anything about being her big sister to anyone who tried to mess with them.

Up on the roof, Blitz and Stolas were laying down on what used to be the tablecloth to the buffet, staring at the stars. Blitz had taken advantage of using Stolas’ chest as a fluffy pillow. It was so comforting, like he could just lay there forever and never get up. But then…something did make him get up. He sat and hugged his knees close, his expression somewhat distraught. His eyes turned briefly to the owl demon, feeling strange.

“Stolas?” He finally broke the silence.

Stolas had already taken note of Blitz sitting up. But he quickly sat up when next he saw his partner’s face.

“What’s the matter, Blitzy? Are you feeling alright?” His questions were genuine, making Blitz feel worse.

“Is this…is this what you want? Do you really want…me?” Something in his voice cracked and that made Stolas’ heart feel a strike of pain.

“Of course I do! Tell me, what brought this on?” He held Blitz’s chin in his hand gently so their eyes met once more.

“It’s…It’s just how we started out. And everything after that…I don’t know why it took me so fucking long to actually admit that I…” He paused. “…felt this way.”

“And?”

“And…I didn’t think that you would actually..! You…You said yes.” His eyes started to water. “Why the hell did you say yes?!”

Stolas pulled him in close, caressing his back. “Because I love you, Blitzy…And you being there all those times, even when I didn’t truly feel this way—it still meant something to me. And I know it meant something to you.”

Blitz let out a crying sound, something he would never do. At least, not in public. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he just felt so vulnerable now…and he hated it. Stolas quickly responded to this by cupping his face and lifting it up so they were at eye level again.

The Imp’s lip was quivering and his eyes were bloodshot enough to almost blend in with his eye color. The tears were staining his cheeks, big droopy ones making him look like an absolute wreck. He looked even more embarrassed now than he did before.

Stolas wiped some of the tears away with one of his hands, a comforting smile. “Oh, Blitzy…do you think we’d really be here if I didn’t feel this way?”

He sniffed, trying to contain himself before he responded. “No..None of this would be…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m so used to pushing people away I never thought you’d actually stick around.”

Stolas gave him another kiss, shorter than before, but something about this one felt even more emotional than the last. Something about this one made Blitz want nothing more than to be with him. No matter what his fears were telling him.

“I love you, Blitzy…” It was the third or fourth time he had said it tonight, but this time it felt deeper.

“I love you too, Stolas…” He returned the kiss, both landing back down on the floor.

It was at that moment they refused to let this feeling leave them. For even though the memory of this magical night would fly by, they would never ever forget it.

End.

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#helluva boss #one shot #one shot story #stolas #blitzo #stolitz #fanfic #helluva boss fanfiction

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