#would be an understatement to describe the weather

[beardedhandstoadshark]

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

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

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏: 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐊.𝐘𝐒 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.0k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Fantasy. Smut. Supernatural.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Vampire!Yeosang x Human!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Making out. Nipply play. Fingering. Wax play. Yeosang got cold ass hands.

Thank you, @senpai-of-doom, for requesting Yeosang for this day. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

To say it was freezing was an understatement. You were curled up in a ball of blankets in front of a dying fire. And you would have gotten up if not for the warm spot you had made. Moving required opening your cocoon to the frost and you were in no way about to do that.

“My my… don’t you look warm.” A deep chuckle caught your ears, tilting your head a bit you saw a tall shadow standing by the now-opened bay window. The broad figure closed the window quicker than your voice to ask for it to be shut. It was Yeosang coming back from a late-night hunt. He and his friends as gone out despite the cold―but then again they do not feel such temperature drops like you Fae―in search of some food. Given the stains on his shirt, you’d say he found what he was after.

“I’m a literal human ice pop. There is nothing warm about me.” You grunted feeling displeasure at the change of weather. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold until the later months, so you were a little―and by that it means a lot―underprepared. Yeosang hummed, moving to the fire, picking up form of the dry wood from the rack before placing some more to begin to heat up the room. You sigh in contentment as a silent way of saying thanks which Yeosang understood.

“I would off to help keep you warm. But I’m afraid that not in my department.” He tisk, slightly irritated in himself for being undead. No heartbeat, meaning no hot blood pumping through his veins. So he was permanently cold, well until he cuddles with you. Then his coldness drifts away quite quickly. “Actually… I could help.” He sat down on the end of the couch, leaning himself forward so he was hovering over you making sure his face was inches from yours.

“You just gotta heat me up a little first.” Yeosang’s cold lips kiss your whimpering warm ones. His tongue slipped in your mouth, drawing a moan from you perfectly distracting you from his hands slowly undoing your folded blankets. Once he manages to hook his long fingers under the split he opens the fabrics abruptly showing off your bare chest. “No clothes?”

“Clothing is uncomfortable to sleep in when you are covered in so many blankets.” You had a point but Yeosang still had to laugh lightly at your words. You huffed beginning to feel the cool on your exposed skin your nipples standing tall from the frosty breeze. Yeosang's cold fingers pinched them gently sending a gasp reeling of your tongue. His cool skin felt different compared to the coldness of the weather. Like there was a hint of fire burning within. He rolled the nub under the tip of his finger, before releasing it and doing the same to the other. His free hand snaked slowly down your belly, making you feel everything shiver that his cold skin touched.

“You still cold darling?” He had the cheek to ask knowing full well that you were still feeling the freezing breeze around you, even the fire no longer helping. Before you could think of a repose that would be more the surely laced with attitude, your mind suddenly short-circuited.

“Holy shit!” You shrieked, gasping for air as you felt Yeosang’s ice-cold appendages slide between your hot folds before pushing inside your cunt. But this time instead of yelling at him, your mind was slipping into a pleasurable hazy. You were no longer annoyed with him. Not when his cold fingers were nestled snugly in your soaking pussy. It was something you’ve never felt before, having trouble in describing it, even to yourself. All you knew is that you wanted more.

“You okay baby?” his sinister grin and low chuckle made you aware he knew what he was doing. You nodded like an idiot as he started to gently curl his fingers, adding another one as he thrust slowly in and out. After a few moments of him using his fingers along with placing his icy thumb on your clit he knew you were not going to last much longer. You were enjoying the sensation, letting your moans echo around the room, while your back started arching. This was when Yeosang decided he was going to tip you over the edge.

Without taking his hand out of you he reached for one of the candles that sat on the small table in front of you both. He sped up his movement making sure you wouldn’t notice him moving around. Luckily you kept your eyes closed more focused on the feeling his fingers were gifting you. And then he dripped some hot wax over your exposed chest, catching your nipples and sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You hissed snapping your eyes open to see the candle tilted in your lover's hands.

“What? You said you wanted to be warm.” He laughed dripping some more but this time on your tummy, making you take in a deep sharp breath. He stroked your walls and rubbed your like at a heavenly pace all the while finding new places on your naked body to drip more wax making you a moaning mess.

“S-Sangie. I’m gonna, fuuckk.”

“Damn Darling, don’t you look so pretty like this.” power rumbled in his gut making him feel a sense of authority from how your body reacted to him. You shivered while your thighs snapped shut around his arm, bucking your stuttering hips. You came so hard you nearly blacked out but Yeosang was there to draw you slowly down your high.

Well, at the end of all this. He certainly kept his promise to make you feel warmer.

[matty-bear]

Maybe one for nick where reader has a panic attack sorta thing?

Haunted House Scare [N.S]

type: request ! this is also based of this request but i decided to merge them both into one fic ^^ (hope you guys don’t mind) 

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, angst (???), panic attack, anxiety, haunted house, mentions of scare actors (their appearances are not fully described)

summary: what will happen when Nick invites you to join him and his brothers to a haunted house for a festive holiday vlog to celebrate Halloween? will your fears and already high anxiety get the best of you during this frightening experience or will you manage to pull through? 

notes: not completely sure if this is what you guys were looking for but when i started writing this, i couldn’t stop 😭 life laugh live the fall guys <3 hopefully you guys enjoy this ! i’m actually quite proud of it :3 happy reading ! 

WC: 4.7K

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The Fall season is a time of pure contentment and happiness for you. It’s your favorite season and time of the year and you wait for what seems like decades for it to come around. I mean, how would you not love the season? The breathtaking sight of the bright oranges and yellows filling the once dull green leaves as they cling to thin branches and the sight of all of them finally falling to the ground and covering the land with vibrant colors was a sight you could look at all day.

The crunching of the leaves that lay underneath your feet brought you pure joy and you often walked outside for hours just to hear the satisfying crunch with every step you take. 

God and the weather. The slight chilly yet warm weather that is brought will fall is what makes you the happiest. You're finally allowed to wear those sweaters you’ve had stashed in your closet and simply bundle yourself in warm clothes during this time of the year. 

Despite the fall being your safe haven, your mind didn’t allow you to be happy during this tranquil time of the year. Your anxiety had been at an all-time high all week and this morning seemed to make it worsen even more. Every little thing either caused you to have a small freak out or just get overwhelmed and break down as a whole. For instance, your neighbors, who have just recently moved in, have been moving all of their belongings into their house since early this morning. 

They weren't trying to be quiet about their actions whatsoever and the loud clattering of boxes and obnoxious beeping from moving trucks ran through your ears for at least two hours. Now, you are quite sensitive to sound so to say that this made you quite overwhelmed very quickly was quite an understatement. 

When you finally reached your breaking point, you sent a quick text to Nick telling him that you were coming over to his place. God knew that you were in desperate need of your boyfriend’s comfort right now.

When you saw that your text went through, you wasted no time in throwing on a random sweater and slipping your sneakers on. Before you left, you grabbed your headphones and set them over your ears in hopes of blocking the obnoxious sounds from outside. When you got yourself together, you finally left.

That brings us to now. 

You and Nick are currently hanging out in his bedroom. Nick’s room has to be second on your list of top ten things that bring you comfort. I mean from the soft LED lights, the stuffed animals lining up against the pillows resting against the headboard, the faint scent of pumpkin radiating through the air and filling your senses, everything in the room eased your mind very quickly.

Best of all, this room was Nick’s home, and the two of you stayed cooped up in his room for most of the time you two hung out. The boy knew how much you loved this small space of his so he always dragged you to his room when you came over. 

Nick’s bedroom was filled with comfortable silence as the male pressed you tightly against his chest.  You allowed yourself to fully relax against your boyfriend as you tucked yourself in the crook of Nick’s neck, your eyes closed shut and your senses filled with his calming cologne and the slight hint of the pumpkin candle on his nightstand every time you inhaled. 

“Babe?” Nick calls, his soft voice ripping through the silence filling the room. You lowly hum a reply after a few seconds, your body not moving an inch as you feel tiredness take over. “I forgot to tell you earlier but I need to film with Matt and Chris today.” 

You groggily open your eyes after a moment and shift a little in Nick’s lap to gaze up at him. “Like right now?” You ask, your words slurring together as you blink heavily. 

“Here in a few minutes, yeah. I can take you with us if you’d like. You don’t have to be seen on camera of course but you can still join us.” 

“Where are you guys going?” 

“A haunted house. The fans have been wanting us to go to one since the Sam and Colby collab got uploaded.” 

Ah yes, haunted houses. How could you forget that fall also welcomed the universally loved holiday, Halloween? You weren’t fond of haunted houses or anything that could frighten you because you just couldn’t handle being scared. When you were faced with something that frightened you, you immediately had a meltdown or a panic attack that lasted for quite some time. 

Due to this intense fear of yours, you also heavily disliked Halloween. You often hid yourself in your house when the holiday came around the corner to prevent yourself from facing the terrors that came with the holiday. The idea that people enjoy scaring others just for laughs was completely mind-boggling to you. 

God, why would your favorite time of the year also hold your most hated holiday? It’s like the universe didn’t want you to be happy. 

When you heard the words ‘haunted house’ escape Nick's lips, you immediately tensed up. Now, Nick knew you quite well but you did keep some things from him. It’s not like you’re keeping secrets from the boy but it was rather that you didn’t want him to view you as a male that was childish and couldn’t take on certain things because of your fears and whatnot.

If you couldn’t tell, you have yet to bring up your fears of haunted houses and anything scary to Nick yet. You were plenty aware of the fact that the boy adored Halloween and you didn’t want to hold him back from having fun on his favorite holiday just because you didn’t like the terrors that came with it. 

“A haunted house?” You ask, your voice slightly wavering. You can’t help but swallow dryly as you lock eyes with Nick. 

“Yeah, a haunted house.” The redhead confirms with a small head nod. “I’ve been wanting to go to one for a while but have opted not to since I’m a pussy but fans have been wanting us to go to one for quite some time. And since Halloween is coming around, I think it’d be the perfect opportunity for us to go and film our experience at a haunted house.” 

You hesitantly hum and slowly nod your head, your gaze shifting to your gray sweatpants. As silence fills the room, Nick’s eyebrows furrow together in worry as he gazes down at you. As the male gently grabs your face and tilts your head up to meet your eyes he says, “Hey, you alright? You got quiet.” 

“Yeah I'm fine, don’t worry.” You reply, a little too quickly for Nick’s liking. You slowly take a deep inhale through your nose in hopes of clearing your head before you add to your previous statement, “I’ll go with you guys.” 

Nick’s eyes lighten up the moment that statement leaves your lips. He lands a long and lingering kiss on your temple before saying, “Yay! I’ll text Matt and tell him you're coming with us.” 

You softly nod your head and go back to leaning against Nick’s chest as he hurriedly takes his phone out of his pocket. As the male busies himself with his cell for a few minutes, you shakily exhale and force your lips together. 

Wasn’t this going to be delightful. 

_______

After quite a while of persuading, pushing, and pulling, you finally stood in front of a large broken-down haunted house. The whole demeanor of the building terrified you. From the dark and rusted wood, the broken windows that seem to be handing onto their hinges for dear life, and the graveyard -which you’re hoping is fake- in the front yard, the house that loomed over you caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. 

Now, the boys decided that they would go out a little early just before the sunset, so they wouldn't have to go home late. Despite the sun still being out for the most part, the way it peeked out from behind the top roof and cast dark shadows over every nick and cranny of the front half of the building added to your anxiousness. 

As you stand at the steps leading up to the front door, your senses begin to crawl up to their all-time high. You hear every single crow in the trees nearby, the small, pebble-like rocks rolling around the road every time a car passes, and the leaves brushing against each other as the wind harshly blows. Your immediate thought was ‘What the hell did I just agree to?’ as you continued to have a stare-down with the house. 

The moment you open your mouth to call your boyfriend, a sudden hand being set on your shoulder causes you to harshly flinch and let out a small shout. You quickly turn on your heels and stare wide-eyed at Chris who’s directly behind you, a look of guilt and worry filling his eyes as he takes in your frightened and tense state. 

“Sorry for scaring you, I really didn’t mean to.” Chris apologizes, “You doing okay? You don’t look so good…” 

“I’m fine.” You blurt out, a forced smile appearing on your lips. As Chris goes to comment on your behavior, the loud sound of crunching leaves rings through your ears like nails on a chalkboard. This sound was usually one of your favorites but at times like these, you simply couldn’t handle it. In response to the sound, both your hands quickly raise and cup over your ears in hopes of blocking or muffling the sound. 

“Are you guys ready to head in?” Matt's voice rings through your ears as he makes an appearance next to Chris, a wide smile clear on his lips. 

“Hell yeah, let’s get this shit done,” Chris replies, the sound of his hands loudly clasping together as he claps causing you to flinch and take a step back. Apparently, you take a few too many steps back and bump into something behind you. Frightened, you quickly turn around to look back at what you bumped into. A heavy exhale escapes your lips however when your gaze lands on your boyfriend who’s gazing down at you, a worried expression clear on his face. 

“Are you alright?” Nick asks, his voice low, as to make sure he wouldn’t gain the attention of his two brothers standing a few steps in front of him. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reply, your tone coming off a little harsher than intended. If there was one thing you didn’t like, it was people asking if you were okay. Even if they had good intentions, you simply didn’t like people being so upfront with you. 

Nick, noticing your sudden change in your demeanor simply by your tone, immediately drops the conversation, knowing better to not press you with more questions. He takes a moment to scan you and take in your body language before he wordlessly wraps his arms around your biceps and brings you against him for a warm embrace. You immediately find yourself melting in the male’s arms, your eyes closing as you take in your boyfriend’s warmth. 

“You’re so fucking warm.” You breathe out. 

“And you’re pretty cold.” Nick chuckles, his head dipping down so he can land a quick peck on your cheek. He doesn’t pull his face away when he’s done and when he begins to nestle his nose against the side of your face and down your jawline, a flurry of soft laughter bubbles up your throat. 

“Nick!” You exclaim, your eyes wrinkling due to how hard you're smiling. “The hell are you doing?”  

“I love your stubble,” Nick mumbles in response, his minty breath fanning your face and neck. “I’m not the type of guy to be controlling or some shit but please don’t shave. I mean that in the least controlling way possible, I promise.” 

“Okay, okay, I won't! Now cut it out, it feels weird!” Nick hums against your skin and peppers your face in light kisses for a few moments, drawing even more soft laughter from you. 

Your small moment gets cut off when Matt’s voice comes up from behind you, “Alright you two, let’s go now. You can do this later.” 

Nick immediately stops what he’s doing and lifts his head to lock eyes with Matt who’s already looking at him. He narrows his eyes at the boy and lands one more peck on your lips before he reluctantly pulls out of the hug. 

“C'mon, Matt’s being grumpy and tough again,” Nick grumbles as he takes his hand in yours and drags you towards the haunted house. 

“I’m not being fucking tough or grumpy!” Matt retaliates with a huff, the hand that’s holding the vlog camera rising in the air. 

“It’s your tone, Matthew!” Nick remarks, “I suggest you fix it before I tip the scare actors extra to be ruthless with you.” 

You hear Matt mumble something under his breath behind you as you walk closer to the front door of the house. When you approach the door, fear immediately floods your veins when you see white and red lights flashing inside and reflecting against the rusted window in the center of the door. You completely forgot what you were signed up for and where you were when you were wrapped in Nick’s arms, however, the moment you stood face to face with the haunted house, everything came crashing down onto you like a tidal wave. 

God do you have so many regrets right now. 

“Chris, do you mind recording on your phone? I want to get as many angles as possible for the video.” Nick asks, his head turning so he can momentarily lock eyes with the younger male who’s standing behind him. 

“Yeah, I don't mind,” Chris replies, quickly fishing his phone out of the pocket of his camo cargos and opening his camera. After ensuring that everyone, except you, has a device open and recording, Nick finally opens the front door with a loud creak. Immediately, the four of you are greeted with a large, trashed, and dark entrance. 

“Fucking hell…” You mumble under your breath, being careful not to get your voice to pick up on any of the recordings. To say you weren’t ready for this experience was quite an understatement. It took Nick a rather good tug for you to be pulled into the dark house. As your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness around you, you desperately clung onto Nick’s bicep, your nails digging into the soft clothing of his sweater. 

The redhead didn’t mind your action whatsoever and let you be as he focused his attention on ensuring that Matt and Chris made it inside. Once he can briefly make out their silhouettes behind him, he decides to slowly walk deeper inside the house. As the four of you slowly walked, the sound of crunching papers and clattering glass sounded through your ears. None of the scare actors have come out yet, which you were very grateful for, however, the eerie and loud classical music that played was freaking you out enough. 

You were innerly thanking whoever decided on the lighting for the candles that were placed against the walls and on some fixtures you guys passed, even though they flickered a lot and made your anxiety spike even more. As Nick proceeds to talk to the cameras and guide the four of you deeper and deeper inside the creaky, old house, you begin to grow more paranoid. 

You felt as though your head was spinning and the fact that you couldn’t see what was in front of you was making everything worse. Your mind eventually started to make forms and faces in the dark, presumably to scare you, and it was working. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your palms began to grow sweaty as all the small notices ran through your ears and heightened your senses. 

You knew you weren’t going to make it very long. You were terrified. The scare actors haven’t even made an appearance yet and- 

A sudden blood-curdling, high-pitched scream rings through your ears, followed by a woman jumping out from behind a cupboard. A scream rips through your throat and your fight or flight instincts immediately kick in. 

You chose flight. 

You quickly bolt in the opposite direction of where the lady is standing in front of you. You could faintly make out someone calling after you but your main thought was that you needed out and you needed out right now. 

You clumsily ran down the dark halls, your body continuously colliding with numerous pieces of furniture. That was sure to leave a few marks but you paid no attention to the pain that coursed through your veins with every collision you experienced. 

Where the hell is the exit?! 

As you sharply turn a corner, you’re immediately met with another actor screaming directly into your face. Another scream rips out of you and you immediately begin to scramble backwards. However, to your dismay, you slip on the rug beneath you and land straight on your ass. At this point, tears are profusely streaming out of your eyes. As you begin to sob your heart out and back up on your hands, your breath gets caught in your throat and it’s suddenly a lot harder to take in breaths of air. 

Fucking hell. 

When your back finally collides with a wall, you allow your legs to curl up to your chest. As you desperately claw at your chest and continue to sob loudly, you shout for the person you need the most. “Nick!” You sob out, your voice coming out hoarse and rough. At this point, your entire body is shaking and you're struggling to take in breaths of air. You would usually know how to ground yourself during panic attacks but it seems impossible right now considering your current environment. 

When you feel someone grab your shoulders, you let out a strangled scream and begin to scurry off again. However, when you manage to pick up Nick’s voice, you stop trying to run off. 

“y/n, it’s just me! it’s just me I promise. I got you, I'm right here, baby.” Nick exclaims, his strong grip on your shoulders loosening so as not to frighten you more. 

“Nick-“ You choke out, “I can’t-“ 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Nick’s right here, okay? Let’s get you out of here, come on.” Nick quickly hooks his arms under your legs and behind your back before picking you up off the floor. As you desperately cling onto the male like your life depends on it, the male sprints off towards the front door of the house. It only took a few minutes for Nick to find the door and the moment he opened it, the wind greets you by slapping you directly in the face. 

You don’t have time to adjust your eyes to the moonlight shining directly in front of you before Nick rushes to the front lawn and crouches down. The boy wasted no time in forcing your body around so you were facing him and cupping your face in his hands. 

“y/n I need you to breathe for me, okay? I’m going to help guide you through it but I need you to at least try for me, alright? Do you think you can do that for me, hun?” Nick asks, his thumbs getting to work on wiping the never-ending stream of tears seeping from your eyes. After your mind registers the male’s statement, you slowly nod your head. “Okay, feel my heartbeat. Feel how my chest rises and focus on it, you hear?” 

You nod your head again and the next thing you know, Nick takes both of your hands and sets them on his chest. It takes a moment for your fingers to pick up on the subtle thumping of your redhead’s heartbeat but when they do, you feel yourself feel a little more at ease. As you focus all of your attention on the steady rise and fall of Nick’s chest, you attempt to follow through with his breathing exercises. 

“In through your nose, out through your mouth. Deep breaths for me.” 

In. 

And out. 

After you manage to finally take some air back into your lungs without it taking all of your energy, you feel your mind clear up a bit. “Good, you’re doing amazing, baby,” Nick whispers, planting a quick kiss on your nose. “Now shut your eyes and think of my room. You remember all the scents there, yes? Picture yourself sitting in my room and picking out all the smells.” 

You simply hum in response, too tired to verbally respond, before you shut your eyes. As you picture yourself sitting on Nick’s bed, in the safe tranquility of his room, you allow yourself to remember all of the familiar scents that flood your scenes there. Nick’s pumpkin-flavored candles, his vanilla cologne, the smell of freshly washed bed sheets and clothes, the faint smell of mint from the lip balm nearby on the duvet. 

It’s home. 

As a heavy exhale leaves your lips, your eyes slowly open. You allow your senses to take in everything around you, from the grass poking into your clothes, the wind whipping through your hair, and the moonlight shining on your irises. 

You were finally at peace. 

“Hey,” Nick calls, his hands making their way up to both sides of your face. “Are you okay?” 

“I am now, thank you.” You reply through a heavy exhale. As you send Nick a small smile, the male sighs and brings you to his chest, both of his arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly. 

“I’m not going to pry and you can tell me when you want but, what happened back there? We were all screaming when the scare actor came out and the next thing I knew you're gone. You fucking scared me so bad.” You force your lips together into a straight line as Nick buries his face in your hair, the faint smell of your shampoo mixed with the lingering scent of your cologne immediately filling his senses. 

You immediately felt your heart twist in regret at Nick’s words. Part of you deeply regretted running off with no warning while another part of you was telling you that you did the right thing. However, you were also aware of how badly you must’ve frightened the triplets. You know how Nick felt, due to him just telling you, but what about Matt and Chris? 

You didn’t want to keep either of the boys in the dark, especially after what just happened. They deserved to know why you acted how you did.  They deserved some sort of explanation. 

“Umm..” You start, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. You feel Nick shift underneath you, probably so that he can get a better look at you. “Can you tell Matt and Chris about this later? Like, fill them in? I would tell them but I feel.. embarrassed.” 

A few beats of silence pass by before Nick replies, “Yeah, of course.” As you try to gather the words to explain what happened, Nick intently looks down at you. He unwraps one arm from around your shoulder to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb immediately beginning to caress the stubble on your jawline. You immediately feel at ease from the delicate touch, your mind momentarily going blank as you lean into Nick’s palm. 

“Well for starters, I get scared easily and just can’t handle anything scary n shit like that. I know that seems very pussy of me, but it just really freaks me out and causes a meltdown or like you saw earlier a panic attack.” You begin, your words coming out every so slowly as you refrain from making eye contact with the male above you, “I’m not the biggest fan of Halloween since the holiday is all about scaring people but I didn't want to tell you because I know you love the holiday and look forward to it every year. When you mentioned the haunted house idea, I originally didn’t want to go but I couldn't say no to you. I wanted to back out the second we got here but I didn’t want to seem like a baby in front of you guys so I just kept my mouth shut.” 

When you finish your quick explanation and silence fills the air, you begin to panic. Your mind immediately starts flooding with negative thoughts that are laced with regret and embarrassment and before you allow yourself to get lost in them, Nick’s voice silences all of them. “Babe, just because you have fears doesn’t mean you’re a pussy or a baby. Everyone has their fears, some have it worse than others, but that’s just how it is. I wish you told me about your strong dislike for this stuff but I completely understand why you didn’t want to tell me. I’ll make sure nothing frightening steps in your path okay? I’ll make sure you're safe and away from all that shit. Thank you for telling me, baby. I really appreciate it.” 

As Nick tilts your head up and brings you in for a kiss, you can’t help but smile widely against his lips. When he pulls away, your smile doesn’t falter and you opt to hide your slightly flushed face in your boyfriend’s chest. Nick can’t help but chuckle softly at the sight of your flusteredness, a cheesy smile growing on his lips as he dips down and lands more gentle pecks on the crown of your head. 

“I love you.” You mumble, your voice muffled due to the redhead’s sweater being against your mouth. 

“I love you more baby,” Nick says with a smile. “Do you want to get in the car? I feel like the grass and leaves aren’t the most comfortable things to sit on.” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Alright then, let’s go.” With a soft tap on your hip, you get up from Nick’s lap and stand to your feet. As you stretch out your sore limbs and take in the fresh night air, Nick stands up with a soft grunt. “Come on.” The male gently takes your hand in his and guides you toward the van. The moment he opens up the passenger door, Matt and Chris quickly whip their heads around to look over at the two of you, their once worried expressions falling and exchanging with one of relief. 

“You okay, kid?” Matt asks. 

“Yup.” You reply simply. As you crawl into the backseat and sit down, your gaze immediately shifts up to the two brothers looking back at you. Feeling a little intimidated by their strong stares, you quickly look over to your right to watch Nick settle himself in the seat next to you. After shutting the door with a soft thud, he looks over at you, an immediate smile overtaking his lips as he locks eyes with you. When he gives you a small wink, you bite back a giggle and quickly look away to hide the heat rushing up your face. 

“Can we get McDonald’s, please? I’m hungry.” Nick asks, one of his arms rushing to grab his seatbelt and pull it over his front half. 

“Yeah, sure. You guys wanna go home after that or…” Matt replies, his voice trailing off as he begins to check all of his mirrors. 

“We can go home,” Chris says as he reaches for the aux cord. As the brunette connects his phone and begins searching for music to play, Matt backs out of the driveway and drives off. As Highs and Lows by Lil Skies fills your ears, you find yourself leaning against Nick’s shoulder. The latter responds to your affection by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you even closer to him. As you shut your eyes and get comfortable with your boyfriend, your mind runs free from all the negative and anxious thoughts you’ve had all day. You were finally at peace with your mind and fully allowed yourself to be absorbed in Nick’s presence for the remainder of the night.  

God, do you love this boy so much. 

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[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏 : 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇

【Synopsis】 : Your undead lover had finally come back from a late night hunt, finding you shivering from the winter weather. But do not fret, as he was...skilled in keeping others warm-ish.

『W.C』 : 1.0k

-> Genre: Fantasy. Smut. Supernatural.

Pairing: Vampire!Steve x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Nipply play. Fingering. Wax play. Steve got cold some ass hands. Teasing.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

To say it was freezing was an understatement. You were curled up in a ball of blankets in front of a dying fire. And you would have gotten up if not for the warm spot you had made. Moving required opening your cocoon to the frost, and you were in no way about to do that.

“My my… don’t you look warm.” A deep chuckle caught your ears, tilting your head a bit. You saw a tall shadow standing by the now-opened bay window. The broad figure closed the window quicker than your voice to ask for it to be shut. It was Steve coming back from a late-night hunt. He and his friends had gone out despite the cold―but then again, they do not feel such temperature drops like you—Fae—in search of some food. Given the stains on his shirt, you’d say he found what he was after.

“I’m a literal Faerie ice pop. There is nothing warm about me.” You grunted feeling displeasure at the change of weather. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold until the later months, so you were a little―and by that, it means a lot―underprepared. Steve hummed, moving to the fire, picking up some of the dry wood from the rack before placing some more to begin to heat up the room. You sigh in contentment as a silent way of saying thanks, which Steve understood.

“I would offer to help keep you warm. But I’m afraid that's not in my department.” He tisk, slightly irritated in himself for being undead. No heartbeat, meaning no hot blood pumping through his veins. So he was permanently cold, well, until he cuddles with you. Then his coldness drifts away quite quickly. “Actually… I could help.” He sat down on the end of the couch, leaning himself forward so he was hovering over you, making sure his face was inches from yours.

“You just gotta heat me up a little first.” Steve's cold lips kiss your whimpering warm ones. His tongue slipped in your mouth, drawing a moan from you perfectly distracting you from his hands slowly undoing your folded blankets. Once he manages to hook his long fingers under the split, he opens the fabrics abruptly, showing off your bare chest. “No clothes?”

“Clothing is uncomfortable to sleep in when you are covered in so many blankets.” You had a point, but Steve still had to laugh lightly at your words. You huffed, beginning to feel the cool on your exposed skin, your nipples standing tall from the frosty breeze. Steve's cold fingers pinched them, gently sending a gasp reeling of your tongue. His cool skin felt different compared to the coldness of the weather. Like there was a hint of fire burning within. He rolled the nub under the tip of his finger before releasing it and doing the same to the other. His free hand snaked slowly down your belly, making you feel everything shiver that his cold skin touched.

“You still cold darling?” He had the cheek to ask, knowing full well that you were still feeling the freezing breeze around you, even the fire no longer helping. Before you could think of a repose that would be more the surely laced with attitude, your mind suddenly short-circuited.

“Holy shit!” You shrieked, gasping for air as you felt Steve's ice-cold appendages slide between your hot folds before pushing inside your cunt. But this time instead of yelling at him, your mind was slipping into a pleasurable hazy. You were no longer annoyed with him. Not when his cold fingers were nestled snugly in your soaking pussy. It was something you’ve never felt before, having trouble in describing it, even to yourself. All you knew is that you wanted more.

“You okay, Sugar?” his sinister grin and low chuckle made you aware he knew what he was doing. You nodded like an idiot as he started to curl his fingers gently, adding another one as he thrust slowly in and out. After a few moments of him using his fingers along with placing his icy thumb on your clit he knew you were not going to last much longer. You were enjoying the sensation, letting your moans echo around the room, while your back started arching. This was when Steve decided he was going to tip you over the edge.

Without taking his hand out of you, he reached for one of the candles that sat on the small table in front of you both. He sped up his movement, making sure you wouldn’t notice him moving around. Luckily, you kept your eyes closed more focused on the feeling his fingers were gifting you. And then he dripped some hot wax over your exposed chest, catching your nipples and sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You hissed snapping your eyes open to see the candle tilted in your lover's hands.

“What? You said you wanted to be warm.” He laughed, dripping some more, but this time on your tummy, making you take in a deep, sharp breath. He stroked your walls and rubbed your like at a heavenly pace, all the while finding new places on your naked body to drip more wax, making you a moaning mess.

“S-Stevie. I’m gonna, fuuckk.”

“Damn Darling, don’t you look so pretty like this.” Power rumbled in his gut, making him feel a sense of authority from how your body reacted to him. You shivered while your thighs snapped shut around his arm, bucking your stuttering hips. You came so hard you nearly blacked out, but Steve was there to draw you slowly down your high.

Well, at the end of all this. He certainly kept his promise to make you feel warmer.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 8/34 - fish and chips

[Read on AO3]

“So, can I buy my wife some dinner?” Mulder asks. His hands are shoved deep in his coat pockets now as they descend the steps of the courthouse, fighting back against the chill in the air. The tie comes untied practically as soon as they walk out the door, hanging listlessly around his neck.

Scully looks over at him, the word ‘wife’ somehow sounding different coming out of his mouth now that they’re outside in the real world. It does something funny to her heart.

“What do you have in mind?” she asks, maintaining her calm composure.

They’ve eaten together countless times before, in cities and towns all across the United States. On occasion, Mulder would even pick up the check, when he was feeling particularly chivalric. But this feels different. Not overtly so, but just enough to be noticeable.

They eventually settle on walking down by the harbor, where a few vendors are selling food to tourists visiting for the holidays. With a greasy basket of fish and chips each in hand, they continue walking until they hit the end of the pier, claiming for themselves a wooden bench overlooking the water.

“Some day, huh?” Mulder remarks, slathering a fry in ketchup before putting it in his mouth.

He’s a master of understatement, her partner. He would describe almost dying as a “minor injury” if she wasn’t there to give him the unwavering doctor stare. But his wry humor is one of the things she loves most about him. Among other things.

“No turning back now,” she comments, nudging his side with her shoulder. “You regret tying yourself down yet?”

He looks at her at that, his expression one of disbelief. “Never,” he answers. “You?”

“No, Mulder. I– I’m more grateful for this than you can imagine.”

His lips pull back in that easy smile she doesn’t get to see often enough, and he relaxes back against the bench. The wind coming in from the harbor is brisk, occasionally bringing a spray of mist with it. It makes his hair stick up in adorable little spikes, and she just wants to run her hands through it and smooth it down.

They’re the only ones crazy enough to be all the way out here for longer than the time it takes a tourist to snap a quick picture. The temperature is dropping quickly as nightfall approaches, and it wasn’t all that temperate to begin with, it being so close to January. Somehow, Scully still feels perfectly warm.

“So, why did you really want to get married on Christmas?” Mulder asks, after a few minutes more spent contemplating the darkening horizon.

He’s looking at her now, one arm draped casually over the back of the bench, now that he’s finished eating.

“I guess I just liked the idea of having something to remember this holiday for other than bad memories,” Scully answers, thoughts of her father and Emily filling her head. “And…”

“What?”

She pauses, wondering if she should share this somewhat embarrassing, personal detail with him. One look in his eyes and she feels her tongue loosening, and suddenly she wants to share everything with this man.

“Well, I always used to imagine a December wedding when I was a little girl,” she admits, preparing herself for the teasing she’s come to expect from her partner. 

She and Missy had loved cutting pictures out of magazines and putting them in binders, concocting the perfect futures for themselves. Over the years, the specific details of her imaginings changed as her taste did, but one thing remained the same. A winter wedding, maybe with snow. Evergreen branches and little white and red berries adorning the bouquet. Lace sleeves on an elaborate wedding dress, its long train dragging behind her in a beautiful cathedral.

Missy was the complete opposite, filling her book instead with pictures of hot summer weather and wedding dresses that were just a little too revealing. 

It’s been a long time since she’s thought of those binders, maybe still collecting dust somewhere in Maggie Scully’s house.

Mulder’s knee tilts toward hers, knocking against it affectionately. “Sorry it wasn’t quite the majestic fantasy wedding of little Dana Katherine Scully's dreams,” he says, giving that shy, apologetic half-smile she knows so well.

“I don't know…” she shrugs. “It wasn't too far off.”

He shakes his head, breathing a humorless laugh through his nose. “You don't have to lie to make me feel better,” he says.

“No, really,” she starts, turning toward him. “It– Maybe it wasn't in a big cathedral with lots of flowers and people there, but…” She looks into his eyes and then quickly glances away, hiding a blush. “Well, in a way, I married my knight in shining armor, didn’t I?”

She chances another look at him, and he’s smiling a big cheesy smile. Great, she inflated his ego.

“Oh yeah? And what armor would that be?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

She rolls her eyes. “A parka not quite warm enough for Antarctica and two layers of pants,” she answers dryly.

He tosses his head back, looking heavenward for a second and smiles. “Ah, don't forget my valiant steed: the Sno-Cat Model 2000.”

“Valiant,” she agrees, “but not the most dependable.”

As time passes, the sky fades into an inky dark blue. The harbor sparkles with the lights of countless boats, some far out on the horizon. 

It’s funny. Sometimes when she looks out there, she can almost believe her father is on one of those boats, just waiting to come back to shore. She’d always thought Ahab would be there with her on her wedding day, smiling and proud of her and walking her down the aisle. 

Now, she sort of feels like he was.

She looks over at the man next to her, contemplative as he usually is when he has nothing to say. Her father would have liked him, she thinks. Well, eventually. She has to think he would respect Mulder’s drive, and the way he cares for her. Maybe it’s foolish and idealistic, but the alternative, she doesn’t even want to consider. She’s said before that they are alike—devoted entirely to their cause. The important thing is that she’s happy, and their unconventional partnership works for them.

Nobody else’s opinion matters, only theirs. That’s the biggest lesson she’s learned in her time with Mulder.

On the way back to their car, he hands a couple dollars over to a vendor and procures two steaming cups of hot chocolate, citing that the unpleasant memory of the bone-deep chill they experienced in Antarctica was making him cold. When Scully brings the warm liquid to her lips, she catches sight again of the sparkling ring on her finger, and she stops to admire it.

“If you don’t like that one, we can trade it in,” Mulder says, taking a sip of his cocoa and watching her expectantly over the lid of his cup.

“It’s perfect, Mulder,” she says, hopefully putting any worries he might have to rest. “You didn’t have to… Just a simple wedding band would have been fine.”

He shrugs noncommittally, bouncing restlessly in place to keep warm, or maybe out of discomfort with this particular conversation. It’s a nervous tic she’s come to love, unless she’s extremely overtired, in which case it gets on her nerves quick.

“I figured it would be good to have them for interviews and stuff,” he adds, glancing around. “I mean, obviously we can’t wear them all the time, but—”

“Oh,” Scully says. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She can only imagine what the rumor mill at the Hoover building would say, if they waltzed in one day wearing matching rings. Only this time, there’d be some undeniable truth to the claims.

“Not that…I don’t want to wear it, Scully,” Mulder assures her, absentmindedly twisting his own ring with his thumb. “It’s just—”

“Yeah.”

It’s a shame, in all honesty. She likes the weight of it on her finger. It feels right, somehow. And she likes the sight of him with his on, too. It’s a tangible thing, something to remind her that he’s made a commitment to her. 

She can’t help but think that if, God forbid, another Diana ever arose, that ring would provide an assurance that would get her through it without the emotional distress she experienced the first time around. A token that validates the possessiveness she feels, warranted or not.

Mulder shifts his cup of hot chocolate from one hand to the other and digs in his pocket again. “I did pick these up, too,” he says, pulling out two long, silver chains and depositing one in her hand, “if you want to keep it somewhere safe when you’re not wearing it.”

For some reason, the fact that he’d thought of this ahead of time makes her throat clog up and her eyes sting with tears. He’s always been a bit of an odd gift-giver, bestowing her with bizarre little trinkets that either mean nothing or everything, and it's never easy to tell which. But this… It’s hard to picture him standing in a jewelry store, contemplating her taste in jewelry and the practicality of wearing it in their situation. 

How much money had he spent on it? Did he worry he was being presumptive? Had it taken five minutes or five hours to make his decision? These are questions she never thought she’d be asking herself, and it’s just proof of how crazy her life has turned out.

She wonders if he’ll take his ring off now and slide it onto his necklace, but instead he places the chain back in his pocket, a choice that seems heavy with perceived meaning. She follows his lead, tucking hers away for the time being as they continue their walk. 

Later. For now, she can enjoy the way it sparkles when the Christmas lights all around them catch it just right.

“Hey, Scully?” he says, glancing down at her beside him while they wait for the crosswalk to tell them to cross.

She looks up at him, his earnest expression setting off the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he finishes.

She smiles wistfully, looping her arm into his and leaning against his shoulder.

“Me too,” she agrees.

-.-.-

Bill is waiting up for them when they get back to Maggie Scully’s house well after it has gotten dark. The original plan had been to go their separate ways after their “errand” at the courthouse, but time had gotten away from them. She wasn’t about to send him home at this hour, only for him to have to drive back in the morning, no matter how much he protested that he would be fine.

After a brief confrontation in which Scully has to defend why her partner is still with her (“Mom invited him to Christmas, Bill”), he begrudgingly fetches a spare pillow and quilt and sets them on the couch in the living room, warning him that he’ll need to be up bright and early for present opening. Mulder salutes him sarcastically, earning a look of scorn that fizzles at Scully’s challenging stare.

“How’d the case go? You smell like seawater,” he says gruffly, hanging around far longer than needed or wanted.

“Nothing much we could do to help,” Mulder answers with their pre-prepared response. “They let us off the hook early.”

After a few more questions, which they expertly dodge, Bill disappears up the stairs to the room his family is staying in, and Mulder breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, you did it, Scully. You successfully snuck back in without your mom finding out,” he says, cracking a smile.

“Didn’t even have to climb through a window or anything,” she adds with a straight face. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

The room falls silent, save for the sound of the heater running to keep the house warm. Somewhere in the kitchen, the ice maker rattles. 

“Will you be okay down here?” Scully asks, looking over his shoulder at the couch and worrying her lip.

He glances behind himself, then turns back to her with a tender smile. “I think he probably found the quilt that smells the most like mothballs, but yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says jokingly.

She frowns. “I can get you a different blanket. There has to be more in the closet upstairs, I’ll just—”

“Scully, Scully, I was kidding,” he says, stopping her retreat by placing a hand on her upper arm. She immediately freezes, her eyes landing on the spot where his hand touches her, seemingly realizing for the first time how close they are standing.

For an instant, he reflexively pulls away as if burned, and she feels the loss like a phantom limb. But then he’s back, this time softer. Hesitant, but purposeful. 

She shifts her gaze up to meet his.

“I’ll be fine,” he reiterates, his voice dropping to a murmur. It’s all she can do to nod, lost in the dim light of the room reflected in his eyes. His eyes scan her face, lingering for a moment on her lips, and then he whispers, “Goodnight, Scully.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he’s lowering his head, and she feels his lips press against her cheek. Although it’s not an altogether unfamiliar gesture, tonight it feels… significant. He pulls back with a soft smile and releases her, not that she could move if she wanted to. It’s like her feet are glued to the floor, and her cheeks burn at the thought of getting stuck in a daze like this from such a simple action.

Fortunately, her brother saves her from further embarrassment. “Dana, you coming?” he calls from upstairs, shaking her from her stupor.

“Yeah, be right up,” she answers distractedly, eyes unable to stray from Mulder’s. She blinks a few times and frees herself from his spell, taking a step back toward the hallway. “Um. There’s towels in the bathroom,” she states, taking another step. “I’ll be in the first room on the left upstairs, if you need anything.”

He nods quietly, smiling at her in that way that makes her stomach flip.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Night, Mrs. Mulder.”

-.-.-

Sleep proves difficult, which probably shouldn’t surprise her. It’s a combination of things, really. The ceremony, the brief touch of his lips to hers in the courtroom, the kiss on her cheek before bed. ‘Mrs. Mulder,’ which is frankly, ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. And a whole host of other moments from the day that she wants to commit to memory.

It hits her, as she’s lying in bed after her shower, that this is her wedding night. It’s not at all like she grew up expecting it to be, but given the circumstances, it would be weird if it was. Things are strange enough as it is, and that—well, that would complicate it even further. 

She watches the clock on the nightstand turn to midnight, the blinking display of red numbers ushering in Christmas Day while the other side of her bed lays empty. His presence is felt, though, in the cool press of her ring to her chest, now looped around a chain and hidden beneath her clothes.

She tells herself she’s wearing it still because she doesn’t want anyone else to stumble upon it in the morning, but then she’s always been good at lying to herself. Her hand travels to it unconsciously, clutching it in a fist, reminding herself that it’s real.

She sighs, rolling over. Maybe Mulder’s insomnia is rubbing off on her. With another frustrated exhale, she sits up, lowering her feet to the floor. She gathers the knitted blanket from the foot of the bed and drags it with her, creeping to the door and prying it open slowly.

Maybe he’s still awake. They can stay up and just talk, or sneak some Christmas cookies from her mother’s tupperware. Either one would be preferable to laying awake up here all alone.

When she gets to the foot of the stairs, however, she hears the sound of steady, gentle breathing coming from the direction of the couch.

Figures, this is the one time he actually manages a good night’s rest. 

She rounds the corner into the living room and glances down at the figure on the sofa. Sure enough, his arms are tucked up against his chest, his face relaxed and tranquil. He looks so young, like this. Younger even than the day she met him. 

Oh, she loves him. Of course she does. How could she not?

The way his cheek is pressed up against the pillow makes her want to curl up next to him, but she settles for the worn La-Z-Boy recliner across the room. After draping her blanket over her lap, she tugs it over her shoulders and curls up, the overstuffed chair rocking back and forth with every movement. She watches him, in the dim light from the Christmas tree in the corner. His knees hang over the edge of the too-small couch, and yet he’s as peaceful as ever, his chest rising and falling in measured increments.

Beneath his thin, pale gray t-shirt, she sees a small, circular outline. His ring, resting right over his heart.

She closes her eyes, sending a wish to whoever might be listening that one day, that heart might belong to her, and hers to him.

~~~

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[kyufessions]

summer soccer

synopsis: soobin’s friends don’t believe he’s actually dating someone

pairings: non-idol! soobin x soccer player! g.n. reader

genre: fluff !!

word count: 0.8k

warnings: reader is described as being shorter (5’3 specifically) than soobin

a/n: thought of this dynamic as i watched txt content, soobin’s so cute </3

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

“i swear they’re real!” soobin defended himself, a shy smile spreading across his lips at the playful teases from his friends.

“you always do this,” taehyun starts after finishing the last bite of his chicken breast. “you say you’re dating someone but then show us a picture of some random idol.”

yeonjun chuckles at soobin’s dramatic gasp, watching the conversation happen around him for a while in amusement. although he’s not saying anything, he agrees with taehyun’s statement. multiple times they’ve all been excited for soobin when he would tell everyone he has a date or started seeing someone- only to be shown a picture of heo youngji followed by a mischievous giggle. but when the new semester started and everyone met back up from after their summer vacations, soobin admitted he started seeing someone.

“youngji is not a random idol, she’s an icon.” he rebuts before quickly moving on. “and i swear i’m not lying this time. i met them over the summer at the on-campus daycare center.”

“are you dating a dilf or something?” beomgyu asks, earning an elbow nudge from yeonjun.

soobin shakes his head, his bottom lip popping out. “no, as i would close up for the day they’d pass by after soccer practice.”

“you struck up the conversation?” hueningkai chuckled, imagining the shy man approaching literally anyone first.

“they’re an athlete?” yeonjun finally chipped in, his eyes widening with curiosity and shock.

soobin’s cheeks reddened as his eyes drifted to the wooden table below him, his dimples popping out more prominently. “they’re one of the top athletes, and not necessarily. they were walking in the rain with nothing but a bag over their head so i walked them to their dorm with my umbrella.”

“gentleman soob.” beomgyu teased, nudging him with a foolish grin. he watched as soobin rolled his eyes, his arms crossing over his chest in embarrassment. “when can we meet them?”

eyes darting to his phone to check the time, he starts stuffing his notebook and pens in his backpack. “i’m supposed to meet them in ten minutes after soccer practice, we can all walk there together?”

-

luckily, todays practice was easier than others. you weren’t sure if it was the cooling weather that made the suicide dribbles easier to accomplish or if it was the adrenaline rush you were getting from seeing soobin today. with the big game coming up and a new school semester, you hadn’t seen soobin within the past week. to say you missed him was an understatement and to finally be able to see him again- to hear his voice right in front of you instead of a phone speaker, is enough adrenaline to fuel a bullfighter.

as the five minute mark hit before practice was over, you spotted your boyfriend from the bleachers waving at you enthusiastically. your friends watched as you returned it, then laughed at you being scolded by the coach for doing so. some people might’ve not known it was their partner waving, or even be too shy to wave back, but you could tell it was him from a thousand miles away.

when practice finished up, you quickly scurried over to your bag and started packing your items as your friends spoke.

“you know, at first i didn’t know what you saw in soobin.” one of your friends commented as she sat down on the bench.

you didn’t give her a glance, just a mere giggle. “why?”

“you guys are just really different.”

“how-“

“the dynamic between you two is very different but it’s cute- you guys mesh well together.” she interrupted as she tied up her changed shoes. “a 5’3 soccer player and a 6’1 education major who seems to be bad at sports.”

you looked at her shocked as you threw your bag over your shoulder, adjusting the straps. “how would you know he’s bad at sports?” you knew he was, but how did she know that?

“i saw you trying to teach him how to dribble one afternoon before practice. told me everything i need to know.”

you just laughed before parting ways, running as fast as you can to the other side of the field where soobin sat in the bleachers. as you approached closer, he and his friends walked down to greet you in the grass- well, soobin ran while the others walked but same thing. the smile never dissipated from either one of your faces, cheeks and ears red from pure joy.

hueningkai leaned up against the metal bars behind him as you both hugged, tsk’ing at the scene out of disbelief. “wow, he wasn’t lying this time.”

“i know,” taehyun replied as he finally made it to the ground. “and the star soccer player too. i’m shocked.”

yeonjun nodded, watching you both talk over each other before started to meet them halfway. “good for him, it’s about time.”

“i can’t believe i’m the only bitchless person left.” beomgyu mumbled, dragging his feet along the field.

[faeskiss]

THE EPIPHANY

note: an AU fic where the trials don’t exist, zaros and earis are on good terms ( zaros is DOWN BAAAADDDD for the earis)

synopsis; The earis realises they are in love with zaros!

The weather outside is rather sweet, a bit sombre, Serullian rain is always beautiful, and you are it’s biggest admirer,everyone knows how much you adore the gloom of the skies and the soft chill of the air

You find yourself standing on the sheltered platform surrounding the royal garden, your head is resting on the pillar as you gape at the wondrous sight before you, your heart full and content

The flowers look vibrant and alluring, almost as if the droplets have replenished their colour, the leaves look alive with greenery, the same dazzling green that reminds you of Zaros’s eyes, his eyes, they feel safe, home, the remind you of home, you feel a soft wave of calm crash against your heart leaving you with a gentle smile

There are rumours, oh so many rumours of what people think is going on between the two of you

Many think you two are caught up in some secret affair; some are absolutely certain he’s madly in love with you, the latter belief began when you both were just teenagers

It would be nice to say, with full confidence of course that you don’t believe the rumours and you don’t, mostly don’t, the thing is, you’re not entirely convinced that the talk about him being in love with you is false

There’s been a noticeable shift in your relationship, the way he speaks to you is sweeter, whenever he meets your gaze you cannot help but notice his green eyes gleaming with a certain desperation..whenever he hugs you he makes sure to linger and his heartbeat feels faster, every time the two of you dance he pulls you closer, closer than ever before

No matter how hard you try, you can not forget the way he was flirting with you a few months ago, it was reckless, desperate and worst of all, it made your chest flutter, your heartbeat quick and made it immensely hard to focus on anything but the thought of his lips for the next few days, torture is an understatement to describe that experience

Much to your surprise the flirting didn’t stop there, it only grew more and more, every gaze, every word, every time your skin accidentally brushes against his, you can feel the tension consuming you whole, so much so you wonder that one day it might just kill you

“I knew I’d find you here”

A familiar voice creeps up at you, lost in your own daze, you failed to notice Zaros’s footsteps approaching you

“Hello Zaros!” you greet him with a cool smile trying your very best to hide your nerves

“Are you alright? You look a little-“ he asks

“I’m fine! it’s just a bit cold that’s all” you interrupt him

You give him an assured smile as if you weren’t absolutely losing your sanity over him a few moments ago

Suddenly you feel a warm cloth being draped over you, you turn to face him but he’s too busy enveloping you in his cape

“Zaros you didn’t need-“

“Shh, we don’t need the future eminence of Serulla catching a cold now do we my sweet, sweet Earis?” He hums in a hushed voice

There’s that devilish smile again and it doesn’t fail to bring a swarm of butterflies in your stomach that probably won’t leave any time soon

“So do you have a date to the charity ball next week?” He asks

“No, not yet” You reply

“Good” He smirks

“Why?” You add in an annoyed manner

A sudden gush of an icy breeze flows in your direction, your hair sways with the wind, leaving a few strands displaced

He steps closer in your direction and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear as he says

“Because I’m taking you to the ball, so be ready” his voice is hushed and soft, his eyes gleam with that same desperation, the warmth of his touch reverberates through your entire body making your knees grow weak, and it’s all made worse by that feverishly flirty look on his face

That’s when the realisation hits you and you realise how deep your desire runs for him, you lied to yourself everyday hoping this feeling would go away, but it didn’t and it won’t, you finally realise that you’re in love with your best friend.

[caramel1mochi]

ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [End]

Heya! Guess who's officially done with Yoru? That's right, this gal!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go binge watch Iso's trailer again as a rewar– I mean, to get a feel for his personality, if you catch my drift hehe

Catch you next week! And this time I won't be late!!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: Fluff, some angst

TW: Detailed violence

Words: 6k

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

To say today had a good start would be a vast understatement.

You woke up feeling untouchable, as if even a bullet wouldn’t be able to take away the triumphant aura you exuded around everyone on your way to responsibly prepare for the mission.

You were smiling ear to ear in the training range; gunning down bots like a particularly happy paperboy delivering the newspapers. Neon definitely felt that something was off. But it wasn’t the fact that you weren’t an anxiety-ridden mess, no. What concerned her was how good your aim was, and especially how calm you were with how you wielded your weapon. It was contagious.

She stood next to you and crossed her arms, speaking loudly to counteract how deafening the shots were.

‎ 

“Someone’s happy today.”

‎ 

You shrugged and continued shooting.

‎ 

“It’s just a good day, you know? Clear weather, chill vibes and everything.”

‎ 

Neon raised an eyebrow. With the upcoming mission, she herself was prepared to reassure you on how things would go as smoothly as they did last time. But this? This attitude was as natural as catching sight of a flying pig.

‎ 

“Alright, lay it all out, A/N. You were gone all day yesterday.”

‎ 

She forced a blush out of you with just those words, and prompted you to stop shooting for a moment. There was no reason for you not to tell her. Well, except for one…

‎ 

“It’s not like you’d believe me.”

‎ 

“Don’t be like that, when have I ever doubted you?”

‎ 

She said with one hand on your shoulder, completely confident in her words. And you could make an entire list in response to that. A sigh escaped you before you finally managed to meet her gaze.

‎ 

“Fine. I may or may not have gone out with Yoru yesterday.”

‎ 

Neon paused for a moment. Then, she snickered, as if you told her you’d won the lottery.

‎ 

“Be honest. I’ll be impressed with whatever it really is.”

‎ 

“I’m not joking, Neon!”

‎ 

“No way, Yoru doesn’t go out with people two consecutive days in a row, I tried!”

‎ 

Sounds like something she’d do, alright. Just as you went to throw a snarky response at her, you jumped once she gasped in the most diva way possible and forcefully tilted your Bulldog upwards.

There, she saw it.

‎ 

“What is this?”

‎ 

Neon called out as if she spotted a bomb. In fact, she scared you, until you realised she was pointing at your prized gift from the day before. She tilted the gun to get a better angle and held the omamori in her hand to make sure it was what she thought it was.

‎ 

“There’s no way– is that from Yoru?!”

‎ 

You flushed and pulled it away, swiftly turning on the safety considering how stupid of a move this was.

‎ 

“I told you, dummy!”

‎ 

“I didn’t think– did he give that to you or did you sneak into a shrine? There’s no way you got that, right?”

‎ 

You allowed her to take your gun to inspect it. And with just a few touches, she confirmed that it was an omamori only he’d get.

‎ 

“I’m serious, he gave it to me!”

‎ 

“How?! I've known him for months and I can barely get a text back sometimes!”

‎ 

Which is why you couldn’t wait until the mission to finally not have something go wrong for once. Nevertheless, you innocently shrugged and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear in the most smug manner possible.

‎ 

“Oh, well, you know. I guess some of us are naturally irresistible.”

‎ 

“What-ever.”

‎ 

Neon crossed her arms and pouted for a moment. But then, she met your gaze with a devious glimmer in her eyes once a brand new idea popped up. Uh oh.

‎ 

“Sooo… did he cook you something this morning? Anything delicious for breakfast?”

‎ 

“I woke up late.”

‎ 

She clicked her tongue, before getting back to the main task at hand.

‎ 

“Okay fine. When he does, which he will, you wouldn’t mind, you know… sneaking some for your best friend, right?”

‎ 

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped you. Of course Neon would request something preposterous like this. Why wouldn’t she?

‎ 

“Ease up, Neon. Too early. We’re still just friends, remember?”

‎ 

“We’re almost a month in and you still don’t know how Yoru’s world works? If he feeds you, he’s basically proposing!”

‎ 

You definitely knew, but you weren’t about to admit that. She began shooting with your Bulldog as each of you spoke, almost as if to emphasise the fact you had an omamori tied to the gun.

‎ 

“That’s a reach.”

‎ 

“Why’s that? It’s not like you’d say no if he does.”

‎ 

“Pshh. As if you know that.”

‎ 

Neon tossed your Bulldog back to you, before grabbing your wrist and forcing you to get a good look at the roots. Only now did you notice how organised and easy-to-digest they were, as if they were sets upon sets of cables that unwrapped from each other. No wonder why it felt like your arm was easier to have.

‎ 

“This wasn’t here before!”

‎ 

Your eyes widened as you took the sight in. And for once, it looked organised.

‎ 

“Wait– when the hell did this happen?”

‎ 

“You didn’t notice this?!”

‎ 

You flushed and pulled away as Neon laughed. But since you were a simple tee, you couldn’t really cover up your arm.

Before she could somehow sneak in one more snarky remark about how unfocused you were, the door to the training range loudly slid open and caught both of your attention. Your eyes promptly darted to the entrance. The strong light from behind shone upon a silhouette that took you a moment to recognise.

But if the imposingly tall stature didn’t help with that, his voice surely did.

‎ 

“Excusez-moi, not to interrupt a pleasant conversation, but we have to leave.” <Excuse me,>

‎ 

Chamber called out, earning a sneer from Neon. One that you unfortunately didn’t see.

‎ 

“Leave? Wait, what time is it?”

‎ 

“One.”

‎ 

Your eyes widened. 

‎ 

“Crap. Okay, talk later Neon! Don’t forget to wait for me until I’m back!” 

‎ 

You quickly reloaded your Bulldog and rushed towards him. Neon excitedly waved as you moved through the doorway with the same grin on her face.

‎ 

“I’ll be waiting, break a leg out there!”

‎ 

She said, earning a nod before you disappeared down the hallways. With Yoru’s omamori in hand, you thought, you hoped it wouldn’t be your leg that would break.

You moved down the halls with Chamber by your side, inspecting your weapon one final time.

‎ 

“Man, time flew by so fast. It feels like I haven’t even trained. Also, am I late?”

‎ 

Chamber chuckled, his polite laughter echoing through the hall just as much as the clicks of his dress shoes did. You couldn't tell whether or not he was mad. But from the looks of things, he seemed... unamused.

‎ 

“Late enough for Brimstone to send me to get you. Was your phone off, by any chance?”

‎ 

Uh oh.Your face turned red. And immediately, you began fiddling with your bracelet. Crap, he mentioned your phone; did they send you a bunch of messages that you didn't see?!

‎ 

“Oh, sorry. I– I left my phone back in my room…” You awkwardly smiled, feeling a bit more embarrassed. “I’m making a terrible first impression on you, huh? Sorry about that…”

‎ 

“No need for an apology, A/N. I completely understand. It must be exciting, non? Your first mission with a team.”

‎ 

Chamber noted with a smile as he fixed his tie.

‎ 

“Ah, to be young, innocent, and on my first mission again.”

‎ 

You couldn't help but smile. His voice was calm. Just the stagnant tone of it could put you to sleep if he just spoke long enough. With everything else, there's no way he wasn’t one of the higher-ups, right?

‎ 

“So you’re Chamber, right? I heard you’re an expert. Does that mean they’ll bring you on the other side?”

‎ 

He shrugged and put both hands behind his back as he walked.

‎ 

“That is a contingency I cannot predict. Personally, I would hope otherwise.”

‎ 

“Why not? Fighting yourself sounds like fun. Speaking of, now I’m curious about how you are on the field.”

‎ 

“I admire your optimism. That being said, if I were you, A/N, I would stay far, far away from my double.”

‎ 

You paused to process what he said.

What did he mean by that? But just as you formed an answer to that question, Chamber stopped in his tracks, and only now did you notice that you had finally arrived at your destination. You stopped as well once you made your way through the doorway. It felt like the voices of your colleagues were drowned out during the conversation, for some reason.

‎ 

“Ah, here we are. Now, as I was saying, keep that attitude up, and I guarantee nothing less than an excellent performance from you.”

‎ 

He said with the same smile he had the entire conversation.

‎ 

“Best of luck to you.”

‎

And with that, Chamber took his leave and left you with your thoughts like nothing happened.

‎ 

“Thanks…”

You mumbled, before quickly looking around in order to distract yourself from what he just said. Luckily for you, however, you spotted Omen in the far right corner of the area, both his arms crossed as he listened to Sage ramble on about something.

Quickly, you made your way towards them.

❤ฺ·。

The place you've arrived at looked vastly different from the pictures you'd seen beforehand. But, to be fair, you looked at it for a picosecond before leaving for more, ahem, 'important' matters. Once the aircraft landed, you stepped out with the rest and prepared yourself for the sand that might enter your eyes, recalling which site you were supposed to be in.

But before any of you could actually move to where you needed to be, you immediately found Brimstone standing in front of all of you.

‎ 

"Alright, let's get one thing out of the way. How many of you read the brief?"

‎ 

You proudly lifted your hand.

‎ 

"I did!"

‎ 

"Me too."

‎ 

Yoru chimed in, and the both of you earned a nod before he turned to look at Omen and...

‎ 

"Phoenix, buddy, you're coming with me."

‎ 

The Englishman’s eyes widened.

‎ 

"Woah woah, why me? Why would you assume I haven't read it?"

‎ 

"Have you?"

‎ 

Brim asked with a raise of his brow, and Phoenix quickly let out an awkward chuckle whilst he scratched his head. Omen, unlike the two of you, minded his own business and proceeded to walk to his designated site.

‎ 

"Well, I didn't read read it, but I skimmed over it. Still counts, right?" 

‎ 

Brim walked off to A site right behind Omen, and Phoenix promptly followed behind.

‎ 

"That's still more progress than last time! Wait, Brim, just hear me out, fam! How come Raze never gets in trouble for it?"

‎ 

You giggled to yourself before moving to your site: B.

While you walked, you extended your arm and took in the sight all over again. Seeing the roots so organised felt like such a breath of fresh air. Not only that, but being able to feel it without it mimicking the sensation of being trapped in a deep maze of a forest.

A shade of deep blue caught your eye, and you lifted your chin to see Yoru standing next to the doorway with his Sheriff in hand. You hadn't noticed him walking off during the feud between Brim and Phoenix.

‎ 

"Testing out a new look?"

‎ 

You playfully rolled your eyes.

‎ 

"Mind you, this is your fault."

‎ 

"Tch. Then no wonder it looks good."

‎ 

There he was, the confident Yoru you knew and probably loved.

‎ 

"You're too confident for someone who got all red over a hug."

‎ 

Yoru chuckled. Just as you took another step forward, he spoke up once more.

‎ 

"You okay?"

‎ 

"Uh, yeah, of course I am. Why?"

‎ 

"Just asking..."

‎ 

This time, his tone was much more... you couldn't really put your finger on it. Despondent? You noticed his awkward stance. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes had this odd glimmer in them.

...

Oh.

‎ 

"Are you talking about the last mission?"

‎ 

"I didn't say anything."

‎ 

"I'm serious, Yoru. If I can't be ready now, then I'll never be."

‎ 

He shrugged and walked through the doorway to which you promptly followed from behind.

‎ 

"I know."

‎ 

His path was curt once he felt a tug at his sleeve, and he looked behind to see you gently holding his wrist.

‎ ‎ 

"Hey, dinner after?"

‎ 

Yoru stared at you for a few seconds and fought the blush that crept up on him. Then, he shook his head.

‎ 

"Save it for next week. I need to rejuvenate."

‎ 

"Rejuvenate?"

‎ 

"Introvert thing."

‎ 

A set of familiar beeping echoed from window. And it wasn't only a few seconds later until an explosion took its place, grabbing both of your attention. Definitely Raze. Even you knew that.

‎ 

"That's our queue. See you around."

‎ 

Before another word could be exchanged, Yoru tore the fabric open and disappeared into the ocean of blue he called a dimension. But you couldn't help but let your thoughts roam as you moved near the radianite crates stacked on top of each other.

Having been around Yoru enough to make him come out of his shell, you knew when he was uncomfortable or not. And he sounded like he held something back. Did you do something wrong? Was it the date earlier? Did you push things too far?!

You mumbled an 'ow' once you picked at your bracelet too hard, a ting of pain following the scratch. In order to distract yourself, the radio was muted and you hesitantly called out your situation.

‎ 

'Uh‎– Raze on B.'

‎ 

Enough anxiety, you had a mission to get to. Evident by the rapid footsteps that came from long. You immediately took position and held out your arm, lightly twisting each root until you found the right one to slow down their push. Since they were now untangled and you were calm, it was exceptionally easy to navigate the maze that used to be your arm. Not the scent, not the hand… You paused once you felt a peculiar one.

The bomb.

Just as you heard the footsteps switch from a sandy ground to a wooden one, a burst of sundew escaped your arm and immediately landed where they would have stepped if they didn't push themselves back.

The roots stuck themselves on the ground and prevented them from entering.

Perfect.

You held up your gun and diligently watched the angle in case they'd start to get bold.

'Any updates?'

‎ 

Brimstone asked over the radio. You were so focused that you'd completely tuned everything out, so you jumped once he spoke. Yoru unmuted.

‎ 

'They're not committing. Probably a distraction.'

‎ 

You were surprised at this. Despite the ruckus, he seemed confident in this assumption.

‎ 

'Good call. Then we're staying here. Think you can hold your own out there, kid?'

‎ 

'Yeah. We just need smokes.'

‎ 

The blast echoed on Yoru's side made you wince. Luckily for you, he muted and spared you the inevitable ringing in your ears. 

And it only took a few seconds before a purple mist emerged right where you were aiming, shielding you from the bullets that would promptly be fired. Combined with Yoru's call, you could now tell they were shooting at random.

‎ 

Some time had passed since that ‘attack’.

Despite what you thought was a hard push earlier, Yoru was ultimately right in the end and they'd aggressively pushed out on A, forcing Yoru to rotate. You, however, decided to go from behind. The distant gunfire took over your ears and unintentionally helped shield your footsteps as you moved. Then, it stopped and a heavy thud followed.

‎ 

"Yo, I got the spike!"

‎ 

Phoenix proudly called out over the radio. But before you could hear who responded to him, you immediately tuned it all out and focused in on the steps right around the corner. You were in bath, and there was clearly someone who wasn't paying attention to you. In the words of Neon, 'easy pick'. Or whatever she used to say.

Then, the sound of the teleporter went off and concealed you even further. Just as he took his final shot and stepped back to reload, you held out your arm and began twisting a specific set of roots to emit a strong scent. You knew you'd started to do something right once  he began to cough into his elbow. And with a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself to get your first kill.

You peeked and began shooting, refusing to let your finger off the trigger until the Bulldog ran out of bullets. And... you did it.

Gekko's dead.

‎ 

A huff escaped you once you took a step back, reloading with incredibly shaky hands. Your eyes were stuck on the omamori as you worked. You got your first kill.

The teleporter going off twice snapped you out of your trance, before the voice of Yoru took over your ear on the radio.

‎ 

"Who's in bath?"

‎ 

"It was me, I got the pick on Gekko."

‎ 

You said with a shaky yet excited voice. Now you started to understand why Neon spoke like that sometimes.

‎ 

"Finally got a kill? Nice one."

‎ 

You couldn't help but smile at this.

‎ 

"Chamber's stuck in hall with the spike. It's only us here. If we can draw him out, one of us can get an easy kill."

‎ 

You peeked to see the spike sitting right in front of the teleporter. And if you looked closely, you could see a golden glint reflected off of him. Probably the tattoos on his head. Yoru was backsite. With all of this in mind, a plan immediately popped up.

‎ 

"Stay there, I'll lure him out."

‎ 

"Got it."

‎ 

You stood near the doorway and already knew which root to aim for before you even lifted your arm. A shadow slowly emerged from above and blocked the glimmer. 

Then, the air stopped.

‎ 

Just as the building he was in buckled under its own weight, Chamber peeked, shot then disappeared into the teleporter with the spike. It took you a moment to look down on your hand and realise that there was a hole on your palm, blood slowly pooling around the wound and escaping.

‎ 

❤ฺ·。

‎ 

Everything felt like a blur at that point. Noises were drowned out, your mind drew blanks and your eyes were focused on only your hand.

Warmth slowly began to encircle your right shoulder. And like a virus, it began spreading in a line across the inside of your arm, red fluid continuously seeping out of the 'small' wound on your palm. It took what felt like a few minutes to comprehend the fact that he hit his shot almost perfectly. So perfectly, it went through your arm and tore your roots apart.

Then, you realised that the odd deafening noise around you had been reduced to a mere rumble. But once you looked up, the explanation was immediately provided. The exit was blocked by what seemed to be the building you ripped apart before he took his shot.

You couldn't move your right arm whatsoever.

‎ 

You felt a pull on your chin. And before you knew it, you were looking right at a familiar set of brown eyes.

‎ 

"Hey, hey, look at me, are you okay?"

‎ 

How did he get here... so fast?

‎ 

"Y‎– yeah, I'm good, I..."

‎ 

The centre of your right shoulder felt so heavy now, as if the bullet inside now began increasing in weight. You still haven't been able to comprehend the fact you were shot. Yoru, however, wasn't in a state of shock like you were.

‎ 

"We need to get you to Sage."

‎ 

"We have to run to B."

‎ 

You both said at the same time, and you earned a dirty look from him.

‎ 

"Yoru, It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

‎ 

"You're bleeding."

‎ 

"It's not important! Look, let's take care of the spike first, then we can get to my arm. The teleporter's just outside!"

‎ 

"We're not going‎–"

‎ 

"I'll be good, it's not like it hurts, anyway!"

‎‎  

Before he could get another word in, you immediately moved through the entrance from behind and walked as fast as you could towards the teleporter. Yoru followed from behind despite his ability to disappear into the rift. You weren't lying when you said it didn't hurt. But that, unfortunately, was before the adrenaline had worn off. And you hadn't realised such a fact.

‎ 

‎ 

Now that a moment had passed, with each step you took, it felt like you were exerting more and more energy just to get to your destination. You stopped just a few feet next to the would-be teleporter to catch your breath. What you hadn't noticed was that it was blocked by so much rubble, it was impossible to get through even if you wanted to.

You lifted a hand towards the wreckage and began sifting through the remains of roots you had to clear an entrance. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn't locate any points for what you needed. It was as if the roots Chamber sliced stripped you away of your powers completely.

Yoru held your chin and noticed the tinge of blue that painted your lips. That wasn't to mention how deathly pale you were, even more than you naturally were.

‎ 

"You're losing too much blood."

‎ 

You weakly shoved his hand away.

‎ 

"Don't do that..."

‎ 

Yoru rolled his eyes. And since you forgot who you were dealing with, you were to pay the price. He slipped a hand under your legs and one behind your back, exploiting your weakened state to easily lift you in his arms.

‎ 

"Get‎– let me go!"

‎ 

You tried to push him away whilst he moved back, to no avail. And just moving your good arm left you exhausted. Combined with the sudden aching that overtook your right one, it felt like you were stabbing yourself from the inside over and over.So you rested your head on his shoulder and let him take you... 

...

Where was he going again...?

‎ 

"You, you wouldn't let anyone do this to you..."

‎ 

"I wouldn't have used my abilities out in the open‎–"

‎ 

He snapped back, before he caught himself and cleared his throat.

‎ 

"I'm... sorry. You're right, I wouldn't."

‎ 

Yoru sighed. Then, completely unprompted, he let out a whispered cuss under his breath.

‎ 

"I should've taken the chance when I had it."

‎ 

"Huh...?"

‎ 

"Nevermind."

‎ 

You felt the hot afternoon sun shine upon you once Yoru moved through the doorway, before he stopped out of nowhere. You took it upon yourself to lift your heavy eyelids and look at what was in front of you.

The wreckage from A went through the teleporter, enough to block the entrance to the fight. And it was as if Yoru knew what ran through your mind just by the way your foot twitched.

‎ 

"We'll be fine."

‎ 

You heard a bullet whizz by each of you from behind. Luckily, Yoru dodged it and immediately moved towards the rubble, allowing the walls to conceal you. He set you on the sand and took out his weapon.

‎ 

"I'll be back. Try to hold out until then, A/N."

‎ 

You quickly grabbed his sleeve.

‎ 

"Wait‎– don't, don't leave me here, let me help!"

‎ 

"I can't let you get hurt twice."

‎ 

"But Sage can bring me back, I can still‎–"

‎ 

Yoru got on one knee and held your shoulders.

‎ 

"I'm not letting you get hurt. Don't make me repeat myself."

‎ 

You stared at him for a few seconds. Despite your blurry vision and all of the noise from the fight deafening you, you could see the look in his eyes. His irises swam with vulnerability.

‎ 

"You're not giving up, huh...?"

‎ 

He stared at you and let the tense silence be your answer. But just as he went to stand up once more, you pulled him back and pressed your lips against his forehead.

‎ 

"I'm so lucky to have you."

‎ 

Yoru, stunned, simply blushed and weakly smiled.

‎ 

"I... could say the same thing."

‎ 

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, before finally standing up and digging his hand through the rift.

You closed your eyes in order to gather all of the energy that you could. And judging by the constant ringing in your ear combined with the repetitive beeping, it sounded like the spike had been planted. You put your left hand on the nearby stack of crates, helping yourself up. The omamori on your Bulldog caught your eye, its green colour shining brilliantly against the dullness that surrounded you. It almost worked in pulling you out of your dizzy state.

Your eyes locked on the rubble whilst you caught your breath. There must be a way to get through this. But how? Your roots were sliced from within.

You held out your incredibly shaky arm towards the entrance and took a deep breath in an effort to calm down and outline exactly what remained. Scent couldn't be produced and you couldn't squash anything either. That left you with… You perked up once you noticed one single root that was still connected.

The bomb. The bomb was still there!

It wasn't much, but you had to get creative with it. You took a few steps back and leaned on the wall, aiming towards the rubble. Then, you shot.

‎ 

A burst of sundew immediately stuck to it like ducklings to their mother. You then rushed to grab it with both hands, and, despite the ever increasing pain, you pulled on it as hard as you could. The sundew refused to let go. In fact, it stuck to it even more, which pulled the rubble with it. And the more you struggled, the more it held on.

The next thing you knew, you were on the ground once you'd finally pulled out the massive brick the sundew was attached to. This set off a domino effect.

You grabbed the Bulldog and rushed behind cover as the wreckage began to tumble over. Sand upon sand covered the air and the noise from this move split your ears for what felt like minutes.

Then... silence. The dust had settled.

You weakly clutched your Bulldog and leaned on the wall whilst you walked to the now-clear entrance.

‎ 

The fight could be seen through the open window. And so could the spike, surrounded by fire and being defused by Phoenix. The rest were clearly holding off someone in garden alongside Yoru who was behind them. He was only halfway through, and there were only a few seconds before the bomb would go off, judging by the black aura and the unnatural impact it had on the area around it. Victory should be guaranteed...

But that was until you noticed Sova near the doorway who aimed his bow and arrow, ready to shoot a dart. One dart, stall them and that would give the bomb the time it needed to explode. They didn't see him. It seems like he didn't see you, either.

Before he let go, you took aim and immediately began shooting, the bullets rapidly digging through him. It took only one more for you to take his life.

The Englishman immediately met your gaze and said something with a wave of his hand, but his words fell on deaf ears since all you could hear was the pounding of your heart. You huffed and stood up, taking a few steps back to lean against a nearby wall. The Bulldog fell out of your grip, and the omamori's gentle green colour was defiled with the trail of blood that continuously seeped out of you.

Then, it all went dark.

‎ 

❤ฺ·。

‎ 

You awoke from your deep slumber with not only a raging headache, but with an arm so sore it felt like it was only one wrong more away from melting off of your shoulder. Almost completely driven by instinct, you immediately sat up and clutched your head, a gentle voice adjacent to you immediately reacting to such a move.

‎ 

"Oh, A/N, try not to move too fast–!"

‎ 

The pain set in just as Sage held your shoulders, and you mumbled an 'ow'. It felt like the blood inside your body was swirling and sloshing inside you as it got used to the sudden movement.

‎ 

"Ah, really...? I turned my back on you for one second..."

‎ 

"Sorry... First mission, and stuff."

‎ 

"Don't start with that, you did great! Two kills on your first mission is something to be proud about!"

‎ 

You ran your fingers through your hair and began gently rubbing your head, the ringing in your ear slowly dissipating. It took you a moment to comprehend what she said. But once she did, guilt quickly set in.

‎ 

"Thanks... Yo, I wasn't too bothersome to revive, was I?"

‎ 

"Revive? No, you didn't die, you didn't die at all! You've been out for two hours, you actually survived!" 

‎ 

You didn't believe her, despite the wide grin on her face. Probably trying to save you the embarrassment of dying on your first mission.

‎ 

"Totally..."

‎ 

"I'm not joking!" she smiled tenderly and clasped both hands together, "Ah, I– I know this sounds hard to believe, but you truly did."

‎ 

"Let me get this straight, you're saying Chamber tore all my roots and I survived?"

‎ 

"Not just your roots, A/N; he tore a few of your arteries as well and you still made it! It was miraculous!"

‎ 

She placed a finger on her chin once a new piece of information popped up.

‎ 

"Now that I think about it, theoretically, you should have passed out thirty seconds afterwards. Hypotension is no joke."

‎ 

You paused once you caught something from the corner of your eye. On a nearby counter right next to the sink was your trusty little Bulldog, the familiar omamori still tied to it. Unfortunately, it was soaked in blood. And you swore you could see that it was torn, as well.

Huh...

‎ 

"Really...? Maybe my luck's really turning over this time."

‎ 

"Possibly. On another note, if this happens again, I might have to put 'durable' in your files."

‎ 

She winked playfully.

‎ 

"Seriously? Wait, no, Brimstone might–"

‎ 

You heard two knocks before the door behind you swung open, revealing two very familiar silhouettes. Neon and Yoru solemnly stood near the doorway, a serious expression very unnatural for your Filipino friend to have.

But once she noticed that you were awake, her eyes glimmered with an abundance of joy.

‎ 

"A/N!"

‎ 

Uh oh.

Before you could prepare yourself, you were already pulled into a hug that put all the aching in your arm to shame. She hugged you even tighter (and knocked the air out of you for good measure) before finally pulling away.

‎ 

"A/N, you're alive!"

‎ 

"I'll... leave you three to talk. Erm, Neon?"

‎ 

"Huh?"

‎ 

"Brimstone?"

‎ 

"Wha– oh! Oh come on, she just woke up! Can't you tell him to give me a few minutes, at least?"

‎ 

Sage sheepishly smiled, both hands behind her back.

‎ 

"I'm sorry... This'll take just a few seconds, okay?"

‎ 

With a loud groan, Neon decided to follow the healer with an immense amount of reluctance. But you couldn't let her go without some reassurance.

‎ 

"I'll catch you later, Neon!"

‎ 

"I know you will!"

‎ 

The door slammed shut and they disappeared. You wanted to ask Yoru what that was all about; but you had a much better idea in mind.

‎ 

"I– I wanted to–"

‎ 

Just as Yoru looked back, he found himself pulled into another embrace. This one, however, didn't cause him immense pain.

‎ 

"Missed you."

‎ 

You mumbled. And to say Yoru was speechless would be a vast understatement. His mind drew blanks at such a sudden move, despite it not being the first time. And all he could really do in response was put one hand on your back.

‎ 

"You... Um, you had me worried back there, you know?"

‎ 

The words mindlessly escaped his mouth, but he didn't really do much to stop it.

‎ 

"Really?"

‎ 

"Yeah..."

‎ 

He quickly cleared his throat before he continued.

‎ 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm impressed you got Sova. I don't know how you got through the rubble."

‎ 

You pulled away with an unamused expression.

‎ 

"I– I thought you died back there."

‎ 

"You need to expect more from me, dummy."

‎ 

He blushed and rolled his eyes.

‎ 

"I said don't take this the wrong way, 'dummy'."

‎ 

You glanced at the omamori on the counter behind him, but promptly looked back so that he wouldn't catch on.

‎ 

"So, uh, speaking of dying... Where do you get omamoris again? Shrines?"

‎ 

"Yeah."

‎ 

"Are you going there any time soon?"

‎ 

You tried to be discreet about it, but somehow, he still caught on and looked back to see what your eyes kept darting to. And he saw your weapon, the omamori you spoke of gently resting on top of it.

‎ 

"Huh, it's torn?"

‎ 

"Yeah."

‎ 

A meek smile forced itself on your lips as he walked towards the Bulldog and picked it up. Damp with your own coagulated blood, and torn open just as you thought.

‎ 

"Sorry about that."

‎ 

"What do you mean? It's a good thing."

‎ 

Despite scrutinising it, Yoru didn't sound as bothered as you did. In fact, he sounded pleased.

‎ 

"This means it did its job."

‎ 

You perked up at this, but you caught yourself before you did anything impulsive.

‎ 

"So... remember when you mentioned dinner?"

‎ 

"Totally. You said no."

‎ 

Yoru nervously cleared his throat.

‎ 

"Yeah, I, um, I remember. And I don't want to miss my chance this time."

‎ 

"Miss your chance?"

‎ 

"I don't like it when people get all up in my business. But you know what?" He pulled you close by the waist. "Maybe it's not so bad when you do it."

‎ 

You snickered.

‎ 

"You're just saying that because I almost died."

‎ 

A mischievous smile painted his previously callous features. No matter how much he tried, flirting just wasn't Yoru's thing. That much you could tell. But teasing definitely was.

‎ 

"Fine, guess I'll ask Sage to join me for the date I had in mind."

‎ 

The word 'date' immediately snatched your attention.

‎ 

"Wait. Okay, fine, let's hear it. What's the idea?"

‎ 

"Hanami's coming up and... I haven't celebrated with another person in a while. Wanna join me?"

‎ 

Hanami? That's right, it was the first of May; the trees must've bloomed already, and the celebration must've started. You beamed at this and completely disregarded your sore arm.

‎ 

"Is it just the two of us?"

‎ 

"Tch, yeah. I have a good spot booked and everything. There's this one old lady that sells the best dango, I'm thinking of going to her again this year. If, um, again, you don't have to, but–"

‎ 

You gently elbowed him with your good arm. Even then, he could barely feel the pain you intended him to feel.

‎ 

"Don't say that, yes I am. We're going. Where's the spot?"

‎ 

"Don't you need a minute to rest?"

‎ 

You proudly gestured to yourself.

‎ 

"I'm well rested. Don't I look like it?"

‎ 

Yoru stared at you for a few seconds.

You looked dishevelled. It was natural for someone who danced with death mere hours ago, but the confidence you radiated made it look like it was just the wind after a pleasant jog up a hill. He couldn't help but agree, and that was made obvious from the slight shimmer in his usually narrow eyes.

‎ 

"If you say so."

‎ 

You moved towards him.

‎ 

"So, where's the spot?"

‎ 

"Kitanomaru park–"

‎ 

The words were lodged in his throat once you took his hand in yours, pulling him out of the patient room and into the hallways. If you keep walking down this hallway, you'll eventually pass by someone who'll see you both like this. But he worked to convince himself that he didn't really mind...

You met his gaze with a warm smile, before pulling him close to you.

‎ 

"That sounds amazing."

‎ 

Just the thought of spending the day with Yoru on that river sounded like some kind of paradise only few would achieve. Fortunately, you were one of the 'few', and you were about to enjoy it as much as possible.

You knew what that day would entail, and you were ready for it.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Day One, One Day [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@hazelwoodhandmadeuk) Center (@milla984) Right (@xjackxv)

Prompt: The reader is called to join the BAU from their team to help them solve a string of kidnappings and murders in a high school. To say the reader's first day and the case was eventful was an understatement, and Aaron can’t help but be drawn to the new face, even though he shouldn’t be. 

Pairing: Aaron x genderneutral!reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns 

Category: angst/comfort 

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings:  kidnapping, mention of smothering, teen death (nothing explicit [three victims]), unwanted attention, imprisonment, mention of the foster care system, mention of abuse (not specified [reader]), tight space, possibility of being shot [Hotch], death by gun (unsub), language, bruises, mention of snuff films and porn [not explicit]. If I missed any, please let me know 

A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt was to describe the character’s first day at the BAU. This fic came about because of the reader being flustered while meeting Aaron for the first time. And then the jealous!hotch got added which is an absolute favorite trope of mine. I had fun navigating the ins and outs of this fic, and I hope you like it too. It's another long one, so grab a cup of tea/coffee/whatever you like and settle in. If you do enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your weekend and thanks for reading.  Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

_y/n_  your name 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_________ = the nearest FBI field office to you. 

y/e/c_ = your eye color (aka brown-eyed, green-eyed, etc.)

_c/t_ = coffee of tea 

_c/s_ = cream or sugar (if you take neither in your tea or coffee, just ignore this one) 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

Aaron had been CC’s on an email from JJ, as he drove toward the normal coffee shop that he stopped at before the office. He was slightly annoyed. The email indicated that the new agent. Agent _y/l/n_ was running late. If there was anything that Hotch didn’t like, it was tardiness. He hardly accepted it from his team, let alone a new agent just joining the BAU. While Aaron moved his car forward at the green light, _y/n_ was angrily saying, at their car, “Just start gosh darn it!” _y/n_ wasn’t one to let anger get to them, but today was a big day for them, and they needed their car to start five minutes ago. It didn’t help that it was so cold outside that _y/n_ felt like their fingers were freezing off. They had taken off their gloves to try and fiddle around with their engine. Even though _y/n_ was by no means a mechanic, they had hoped that a YouTube video and the willpower to try restarting their car would be enough to get it going. Unfortunately, _y/n_’s self-reliance wasn’t working out in their favor. Just as _y/n_ was going to call an Uber or Lyft to take them where they needed to go, a strong voice called out, “Hey. Is everything alright?” _y/n_ looked up at the tall stranger. He was dressed appropriately for the weather in a puffer jacket, gloves, a scarf that obscured some of his face, and a grey hat. Although the man was well-layered, he seemed put together. His outfit, unlike many _y/n_, had seen in the thirty minutes of hoping their car would cooperate, was put together. It looked expensive. _y/n_ would normally be weary of strangers. They’d seen enough bad things happen to people who seemed helpful at first but turned out to be monsters later. However, the seriousness in this man’s deep-set eyes and demeanor had _y/n_ reconsider in this rare case ._y/n_ normally liked to be independent, but their lack of car knowledge and need to get moving stat had them reply to the man’s question, “Not really. My car won’t start, and I need to get going. I was about to call a Lyft actually.” The tall, _y/n_ estimated, middle-aged man, stepped forward and said, “Mind if I look under the hood for a second?” _y/n_ stepped back from the infernal machine and said, “Knock yourself out. I can’t figure it out.” With a determined look, the man stepped forward and leaned down a bit to see if there was any issue with the car. 

The first thing he noticed was that heat was radiating off the engine even in the freezing weather. Of course, engines were hot, but not this hot. Aaron from a few close calls in his youth, had a good idea what the issue was.” He turned his head to the person, just as he was about to ask them if they’d replaced their coolant recently, recognized them as the last-minute agent he and JJ had selected yesterday afternoon for the latest case. He hadn’t realized it was them before because agent _y/n_ of the Crimes Against Children Unit was wearing a thick coat and their face was flushed from the cold. It was clear that _y/n_ hadn’t realized who he was yet either. It was so rare for Aaron to come across someone else in the FBI who didn’t know who he was, even if it was just for a minute or so. Hotch couldn’t help but notice how tense and anxious _y/n_ appeared to be. Aaron had been very hesitant to add a new agent so abruptly, but given the fact that five teenagers had gone missing from a public school in Texas, it seemed prudent to have someone who worked well with children onboard for the case.

Having to interview teenagers took a whole other set of skills than dealing with adults. JJ and Garcia did a fast but thorough scan of the possible agents that would fit the bill. The best fit for an agent that wasn’t actively on a case had been _y/n_. Hotch reluctantly signed off on it for JJ. Now that _y/n_ was standing in front of him, he decided to perform an informal test of their personality. Once _y/n_ recognized who he was, they would change. People always changed around him. He often found they became more closed off. Aaron stood straight and asked in a neutral tone, “You said you need to get going? Something happening this morning for you?” _y/n_ let out a measured breath and said, “Well it’s supposed to. This rental car kind of threw a wrench in everything though. I already sent an email explaining the situation to the people I’m working with, but I haven’t gotten a response yet. I hope they’ll understand, but I don’t want to hold anyone up. No matter what this is on me” Aaron nodded at _y/n_’s clear discretion. He asked, like he didn’t know already, “Is it a new job? What is it you do for work exactly that makes you need to email these people?” _y/n_ looked over at him. There was a flash of something in their eyes, but _y/n_ remained cool and said, “Not a new job exactly, more like a new team.” _y/n_ didn’t mention anything about the nature of their work, which Aaron appreciated. Given _y/n_’s attitude and choice of responses, Aaron let _y/n_ know exactly who he was by saying, “Well, I think I can help you. Maybe not with the car unless you’ve got some coolant back there. But I can give you a ride to work.” _y/n_ took a step back at the odd statement. This man seemed so normal, but again, seeming like anything didn’t mean much in their line of work. _y/n_ asked with caution, “Pardon me?” _y/n_ was ready to run or scream if this went bad. Now _y/n_ wished they’d had their gun on them and not in the glove box of the car. Hotch noticed the split-second change in demeanor with Agent _y/n_ taking on a defensive stance, even if it was masked as calmness. Aaron couldn’t help but applaud the instance change. It showed they were quick. Hotch clarified by saying, “I can drive you to work because my name is Aaron, Hotchner.” He flashed his badge to reassure them. Once _y/n_ looked at the badge and looked Agent Hotchner in the face, their eyes grew wide with awe. _y/n_ wanted to hit their head on the palm of their hand with how dumb they had been for not noticing. Agent Hotchner didn’t seem like the person to be easily forgotten. y/n_ composed themself and quickly said, “I am so sorry Agent Hotchner. I didn’t mean to hold you up, nor did I expect to meet you before our planned debrief this morning.” Hotch raised a hand. He was still slightly amused by the whole situation. However, he didn’t let that show as he replied, “It’s alright. You just killed two birds with one stone. I’ve met you now, and I can get us both to Quantico without any delays, but if we want to get there promptly, we should go now. I’ll give you a minute to get your things.” Aaron knew the traffic would get terrible if they didn’t leave soon. _y/n_ nodded and quickly pulled their go bag from the back trunk. They then grabbed their case files and gun from the front glove compartment. Even though _y/n_ wasn’t a part of the BAU, they often joined other teams than their own on cases that needed a CACU agent’s skill set. Given that fact, they already knew how to pack a go bag and get moving quickly. In under a minute, _y/n_ clicked the lock on their car and followed Hotch toward his car in the lot. 

As they started driving, _y/n_ reflected on the whirlwind of yesterday. They had just finished a case with their team in Kentucky. Their team had been in the office late, trying to finish up their report as thoroughly as possible. The Trafficking case had been difficult and dealt with lots of parties, so _y/n_wanted to give themself time to fill out the forms accurately but with concision. That task had taken longer than _y/n_ had expected. _y/n_ had rubbed their dry eyes when the ping of their email sounded. _y/n_ turned to their work computer and a message marked urgent was in their inbox from their supervisor. A twinge of panic hit _y/n_. They rarely interacted with their supervisor Most of the time, meetings, instructions, or the rare reprimand came from their Unit Chief, Agent Smith. With hesitation, _y/n_ clicked the email afraid that they’d made some mistake or something else._y/n_’s eyes grew wider and wider as _y/n_  read the contents of the email. It read: 

To: y/n_cacu@fbi.gov 

From: JessicaPola@fbi.gov 

CC: JeffinerJareaubau@fbi.gov, AaronHotchnerbau@fbi.gov, DrakeSmithcacu@fbi.gov 

Subject: Transfer Request 

Good morning, agent _y/l/n_. We have an urgent request for you. The Media Liaison for the Behavioral Analysis Unit based in Quantico has requested your presence to help with the team's current case. You are requested to come as quickly as you can. You have been selected due to your team's case status, and your intimate knowledge of crimes against children. For more details about this choice, please contact Jennifer Jareau [CC’d]. For issues with travel and expenses, please contact the Travel Resource Office. I have already contacted your Unit Chief, and let Agent Smith know of this temporary shift of teams. Be safe, and good luck. 

Supervisor of the ________ Field Office, Jssica Pola. 

_y/n_ didn’t know that to think for a moment. To be joining the famous BAU team on a case felt otherworldly. It didn’t seem like a thing that could ever happen to them. One, because they were a relatively new agent, and two, the BAU was too important to need someone like them to help on a case. But _y/n__ practical side kicked in quickly. There would be time to think later. Now they needed to work. _y/n_ quickly emailed Drake and then spent more time emailing the BAU’s liaison about the details of the case. Only a few minutes after _y/n_ had sent that email, Agent Jareua replied with a couple of attachments including details on the current case and the BAU team. _y/n_ quickly finished booking their red-eye flight to Virginia at 1:00 a.m. before thanking the agent and noting that they would be in the Quantico office in the morning. _y/n_ had to quickly pack up and go home to get things for their absence. Once this was done, _y/n_ moved to the airport. They tried to relax, but the prospect of getting to work with the BAU kept them up. The team was legendary. And that was justified by the sheer amount of high-profile arrests the BAU made. _y/n_ ended up looking at the folder with the team’s information to refresh their memory of who was currently on the team. _y/n_ had met Agent Morgan and Agent Reid while they were a N.A.T., but the mercurial and stern Unit Chief had been gone on paternity leave while they were finishing up their training. But _y/n_ didn’t need to see Aaron Hotchner to know who he was. Apart from his team being praised constantly, his leadership after Gideon stepped down from the role of Unit Chief was unmatched. As soon as _y/n_ opened the file on the plane, they felt the exhaustion come on like a wave. _y/n_ closed the file and put away their phone, leaning into the tiredness that overwhelmed them. y/n_ would take the sleep now because there wasn’t going to be much later. When they landed in Virginia, it was 5:00 a.m. and an hour's drive to the Quantico field office. _y/n_ chose to rent a car and not spend a fortune of the FBI’s money on getting a ride share. That turned out to be a mistake, as _y/n_ nearly got to the office. _y/n_ had pulled into the parking lot of an unassuming coffee shop. They needed the caffeine for what was to come. When _y/n_ had returned to the car, it would not start. There was no getting the engine to rev to life. Thus, why she was in the passenger seat of Agent Hotchner’s car. _y/n_ didn’t try and give themself too much grief about not recognizing the man in the driver’s seat. They reminded themself that they’d never seen him in person before and that they hadn’t fully looked at the team folder Agent Jareua had sent them. 

Aaron could sense that _y/n_ was thinking. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, we might as well get the debrief done now instead of waiting to get to the office. That way the team can jump right in once we arrive.” _y/n_ nodded. They noticed the shift in Aaron’s attitude. A shift from one of apparent amusement to one of professionalism. Here was Aaron Hotchner _y/n_ who had expected to meet in the office. Hotch kept his eyes on the road, and said, “You’ve probably heard all of this before, but we take these things very seriously at the BAU. First, we work as a team and a unit. Keeping ideas to yourself doesn’t solve the issue. If you have an idea I recommend you share it with everyone. Second, you run things by me or someone on the team before you do them. Third, nobody gets over-involved with the witnesses or families. Fourth, we integrated with law enforcement and didn’t overstep. Fifth and final note, the actions of anyone on this team, permanent or temporary reflect on the FBI as a whole. I don’t tolerate bad behavior or ethics. Do you understand?” _y/n_ nodded. Here _y/n_ saw the dedicated leader of the BAU. _y/n_ understood that a man in Agent Hotchner’s position had to be firm, strong, and have rules, especially for young agents who just get added to a team that was well-oiled and worked well as what seemed like a machine. _y/n_ spoke up and said, “I understand Agent Hotchner.” They wanted to add, “I won’t let you down,” but from the reputation the BAU had, maybe they would. _y/n_ didn’t want to dwell on it too much. They didn’t have to, as Hotch added in a voice with a hint of warmth, “And, if you have any questions, you can ask me, or anyone on the team. Things move fast in the BAU, and it’s fine if you need clarity.” _y/n_ nodded and replied, “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.” _y/n_ reflected on the hot-then-cold nature of the man beside them. _y/n_ realized that perhaps that was why he was respected. Agent Hotchner was as stern as he needed to be, but underneath that facade, he was a caring man. Even if he tried to hide it. He made it part of his job to hide it. _y/n_ felt oddly warmed by the idea, but _y/n_ waasn’t so naive to believe this assumption. They’d need to see Aaron with the team to confirm their suspicion about his character. After all, he had been profiling for over half their life, _y/n_ wasn’t going to trust their judgment on a skill Aaron Hotchner had perfected. 

Hotch looked at _y/n_ and commented, “You’re team does good work. Difficult work.” Aaron wasn’t exaggerating. He couldn’t imagine having to work on crimes dealing with children in every case. To him, it was the most disheartening thing in the world. He was jaded enough seeing the killers he did. Having to do that with children specifically put his stomach in knots. He assumed it was because he was a father. When Jack came home with a runny nose he was instantly on high alert. Aaron took a moment to wonder if many of the agents in the Crimes Against Children Unit had children. He knew Agent Smith was married, but was unsure if the man had children. For some reason, Aaron turned his face to _y/n_, who was silently running their thumb over the pads of their other fingers in a gesture that might be nervousness. Internally Aaron thought, “They seem too young to have children.” His eyes glanced at _y/n_’s left hand. There wasn’t a ring there. Hotch snapped his eyes back to the road, not sure why he’d taken that internal tangent. He reminded himself of the no profiling agents rule, but when a new agent joined the team, even if it was just for a case, it was hard not to. That was why he did debriefs with new Agents. He did them firmly so he could get a natural read on their reactions. He did this to introduce himself to the agents and set the strict guidelines he asked his team to follow. Even with that plan in place, Aaron still found it hard to not try and read agents. He gave a small sigh and shifted his attention back to work, as they pulled into the bureau parking lot. Aaron took his reserved spot on the bottom floor of the parking garage. 

_y/n_ and Aaron grabbed their things from the car, and _y/n_ said, “Thank you for the ride, Agent Hotchner.” Aaron nodded and said, “You’re welcome.” The unlikely pair moved inside and Aaron was greeted, and greeted by many important Unit Cheifs. _y/n_ recognized many of them and had to act cool as they entered the building. It was a nice space. Clean and bigger than _y/n_’s field office. _y/n_ had to make sure they kept their face neutral and did not look like a kid in a candy store. This was a privilege, not a present. Once through security, Aaron led _y/n_ up to the BAU. As they rode up the elevator, many famous agents entered or left the metal box, _y/n_ continued to realize just how big a privilege this was. In their mind, _y/n_ swore to do their best while working with the BAU. To learn and grow from this experience. Even though _y/n_ felt inexperienced for this role, it was still a chance to gain new skills and learn how the most famous unit in the FBI worked. From their brief interaction so far, Aaron Hotchner seemed like a big part of that answer. Once they were on the BAU floor, they walked into the bullpen. _y/n_ noticed Agents Morgan and Reid right away. There seemed to be an electric energy in the air. Even with that being the case, there was a familiarity in the room as well. The way Agent Morgan was leaning on Agent Reid’s desk, and a stunning brown-haired woman, who _y/n_ assumed was Agent Prentiss, was standing nearby laughing at whatever Dr. Reid had just said. That kind of levity didn’t happen on their team. Lost in their thoughts,_y/n_ startled slightly as Hotchner called them saying, “Agent _y/l/n_.” _y/n_ perked up and realized that the Supervisory Special Agent had moved to the short staircase leading up to the upper level of the floor. _y/n_ snapped back to themself and quickly closed the gap between them. At the top of the stairs, they were met with a blond woman who stepped out of an office door saying, “Hotch, did you get my email about agent _y/l/n_?” Aaron nodded and said, “I did. Agent _y/l/n_ is here now.” JJ’s eyes widened as Hotch stepped aside and she saw _y/n_. The Media Liason looked over at Aaron with questions in her eyes, but he shot her the “It’s a long story look.” JJ gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment and instead of speaking to Aaron, stepped forward and extended a hand toward _y/n_. _y/n_ took the offered hand as the woman said, “Good morning, Agent _yl//n_. I’m Jennifer Jareau, media liaison to the BAU team. We spoke yesterday over email.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jareua.” Aaron cut in for a second with a comment directed at JJ saying, “Let’s meet in conference in ten minutes.” JJ nodded and turned her attention back to _y/n_ saying, “Well now that you’re here, let me give you a quick tour. Sorry there isn’t time for you to get comfortable, but things move fast on this team.” _y/n_ nodded and followed as JJ showed her the break room, restrooms, a spare desk as well as a giving very brief history of the BAU team. At the end of the tour, JJ took _y/n_ to the conference room. Aaron was already there. An extra chair had been added to the table. JJ said, “You can sit at the end there. The team will be here in a minute.” _y/n_ nodded and took a seat. Aaron’s eyes briefly flashed to theirs. _y/n_ pulled the folder in front of them open and immediately realized that it was the folder JJ had sent last night. Even though _y/n_ hadn’t had much time to read over the file on the team, they had thoroughly read the case notes so far. The details were unfortunately familiar. That dull sickening feeling had washed over _y/n_ as they had processed the information and started taking notes. 

The sound of the door opening pulled _y/n_ from their thoughts. The rest of the team, plus Penelope, traipsed in the room. They all stopped momentarily, as they realized someone new was there. Hotch called them all to sit down, and he stood at the front of the room with JJ. He spoke in his normal, professional voice. Aaron said, “Everyone, this is Agent _y/n_, _y/l/n__ from the Crimes Against Children Unit out of _________.” The team looked at them and _y/n_ raised a tentative hand and waived. Everyone responded, and Rossi and Penelope specifically said, “Hi” and “Hello.” When Aaron cleared his throat, everyone looked back at him. He continued, “You’ll understand why I’ve asked Agent _y/n_ here in a moment.” JJ used the clicker to change the slide. Five teenagers' photos were displayed. JJ said, “Two days ago, five children in Dearborn, Texas, ranging from the age of fifteen to seventeen, went missing. All one day apart. All of the parents made a fuss, but one family did. The incredibly rapid disappearance of a group of children was shocking. The media is all over it, and many are panicked.” Hotch stepped forward, and JJ clicked on the next slide. Some graphics and information were on the slide, and Aaron said, “Two of the five children were found drowned in a nearby lake the following day. However, the mortician ascertained that the victims were dead before being dumped. They believe that the victims were smothered within hours of each other. One of the children, Kaden Morris, appeared to be beaten, but the other victim, Victoria Cross, had no signs of abuse. The next morning, a third body was found. Eli Perry is the oldest of the children. With Eli, there were defensive wounds and the same manner of death. None of the children had been sexually abused. The thing is that all of the victims, those that are deceased and the two that are possibly still alive have in common is that all of them go to the same high school. Also, they are all children in the foster system. The fact that there are two large overlapping factors is unique. Even with these things tying the victims together, the police in Dearborn haven’t gotten any leads despite a desperate plea from the foster parents and the police for information. So, we were called in to figure out what’s happening and try and get to the victims before anyone else is killed or taken.” The room was silent for a second, and Aaron could feel the tenseness in the room. With everything happening so quickly, along with the intricacies of the information involved, Aaron said, “It’s a long flight to Texas, so let’s save reading over the files from the jet. Wheels up in thirty.” 

Between the debrief and boarding the jet, _y/n_ was greeted by the team. Again they had to contain their excitement, as they got to shake Derek and Rossi’s hands, along with meeting Emily, Spencer, and Garcia. Once _y/n_ had shaken Deek’s hand, they said, “Agent Morgan…” Before they could say anything else, Derek said, “It’s just Morgan. It’s nice to meet you too.” The pleasantries only lasted a few minutes as everyone grabbed their bags and got ready for the jet. _y/n_ quickly called the rental company and explained how the car had died and where it was. They were assured that the car would get picked up or towed and that the rental company would be in contact once they had more information. On the jet, _y/n_ found a place near the side of the main few rows. Once the plane had taken off, the team took a few minutes to read over the case file and current information before the ideas started flowing. Ideas ranging from the unsub to the victims were varied. Things like the possibility that the victims may have tried to run away, or that the unsub was a peer. _y/n_ wasn’t sure about either of the assertions and said, “If the victims were trying to run away wouldn’t the unsub keep moving on? Why drop the three bodies off at the same place? They could have possibly crossed multiple state lines by now. Why stick around and do it again.” Rossi nodded and said, “_y/l/n_’s right. Also if the unsub has multiple victims, then they have to have a place to keep them. A home, or someplace where they can isolate themselves without being noticed. A trucker or good samaritan who offers to give a kid a ride doesn’t have the sort of space on the road. Spencer also noted that the rate of killers that are peers was so low that it was unlike, though not impossible. Reid stated, “Psychopathy or anger issues in adolescents don’t normally come to a head until their early twenties. So it’s unlikely that the unsub is another teen. Also, it takes a lot of force and desire to smother someone. Unless we’re speaking of a very large teenager, it’s unlikely they’d have the strength or willpower to follow through with one, let alone two killings. As the team, plus _y/n_, kept bouncing ideas off of each other Aaron listened and observed. Even though Agent _y/l/n_ was new and temporary, they seemed to blend well with the team. Unlike some more unfortunate temp transfers. _y/n_ was offering helpful information about the experiences children go through as well as statistics about the foster process. Information, that apart from Reid, the team didn’t know. _y/n_ had a deep wealth of knowledge about the system and how it worked for and against the kids in it. _y/n_ also didn’t butt in on conversations. Agent _y/n_ seemed to have picked up on the rhythm of the team’s conversation and added their thoughts at a helpful time. Each time _y/n_ spoke up, Aaron found his eyes in that direction. He told himself that he was just looking because _y/n_’s calm, steady voice was new, and he couldn’t help himself. That might have been part of it, but there was a certain draw to the younger agent that Aaron couldn’t seem to refuse. It had happened before he’d even known they were an agent in the parking lot of the coffee shop. Hotch let out a sigh and moved his gaze elsewhere. There wasn’t time to get distracted. Not now. And given the fact that _y/n_ was on another team and that he was a senior agent, there wouldn’t ever be an occasion to think about it further. The latest thought wasn’t even a conscious one. Just something Aaron’s subconscious stopped from sending to the forefront of Aaron’s mind. 

While Aaron was trying not to look at _y/n_ too much, the _y/e/c_ed agent was having the same issues. As exciting as it was to be next to Agent Rossi and Agent Reid, _y/n_ couldn’t help but look at Agent Hotchner. They were comforted by Hotch’s stern demeanor. The way he kept composted, and most of all his intensity. The way the man focused on things meant all of his attention was on the case. There was no wavering or distraction. Just the thing in front of him. _y/n_ got that from Drake too, but their Unit Chief was younger than Aaron by five years or so and hadn’t quite gotten to the point where he was that focused yet. Drake is a great team leader, just not quite Aaron Hotchner. _y/n_ averted their eyes as Agent Hotchner seemed to turn his head in their direction. The plane ride was long, and after two hours, _y/n_ got up to make a cup of _t/c_. At the Keurig as _y/n_ was preparing the hot drink, Emily stepped out of the bathroom, running her hands on her slacks. The woman smiled at _y/n_ and asked, “So, how are you liking it so far?” _y/n_ offered back a small smile and said, “It’s very interesting. I’m learning so much. I think I’ve heard more theory in the three hours I’ve been on this team than the twenty weeks I did in Virginia.” Emily nodded and said, “I understand. I felt the same way you did when I joined the team. Sometimes the best way to learn is to just do the thing, but that’s hard in a job like the FBI. We can’t exactly have unqualified agents on the field.” _y/n_ nodded, stirring in _c/s_ into their styrofoam cup. _y/n_ bit their lower lip for a second before acknowledging their hesitation, saying, “Honestly I’m not sure why I got picked to join y’all on this case. There are senior agents who could have been called.” Emily pondered the statement and replied, “I can’t tell you for sure _y/n_ some of it may be that more senior agents need to be around if a case on your team comes up.” Prentiss realized that she just essentially said that _y/n_ was a junior agent. But Emily added, “But these choices are well thought out. Of the pool of applicants, you were the best fit based on your performance and the cases you’ve completed. Temporary transfers to the BUA aren’t just a guessing game. JJ and Hotch picked you for our skills. You never have to question that.” Em paused for a second and added, “And for my part, you’ve fit well with the team so far. Some folks are far too shy, starstruck, or intent on making an impression. You haven’t done that.” 

_y/n_ smiled softly and said, “Thanks, Agent Prentiss.” Em smiled and replied, “It’s just Emily. And no need to thank me.” With that, Emily slipped past _y/n_ and back to her seat. _y/n_ felt a rush pass through them. They were both flattered at the compliment and a bit concerned that Emily had felt the need to reassure them. _y/n_ didn’t want to seem desperate or in need of reassurance. With a sigh _y/n_ moved back to their seat, more determined than ever to be an asset and not a weight to the team. As the jet continued its journey to Texas, _y/n_ listened and learned as the team worked every angle possible. When the plane landed West of Houston, the team rallied and got ready for the case ahead. 

The BAU was met by local law enforcement, and they piled into the SUVs and made it to the Dearborn police station. Once there, Aaron made quick introductions and then asked for a space to have the team work on building a profile. Once the slightly more private space was provided, Aaron said, for _y/n_’s sake only, “Let’s gather some evidence before we start building. We’ll split into teams. Myself, Agent _y/l/n_, and Reid will go to the school. Rossi and Derek, you take the dumpsite and then go to the hospital. Lastly, JJ and Prentiss, see if you can get in contact with the victims' families. Give them a preliminary interview. Any details they can recall will be valuable.” Everyone nodded and moved to their respective roles. _y/n_ moved into the backseat of the SUV while Aaron and Spencer sat in the front seats. Hotch looked in the rearview mirror and said, “Agent _y/l/n_when we’ve made contact with the school administration I’d like you to give an address to the students if the principal will let you. You have more experience in this field than either Reid or I, and I assume the student population knows more than they might be letting on.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Of course, Sir.” _y/n_ was relieved to be helpful and be able to contribute in some way to something that they were used to dealing with -- the younger population.

Once the trio arrived at the High School, they parked and moved to the front office. After flashing all of their badges, the group was led to the main office. The Vice Principal, Stevenson, and the principal, Jackson, met the team with appreciation. Hotch introduced everyone and the principal said, “Let’s speak in a more private space.” The agents moved into a smaller, closed-off room with the senior staff of the public high school. Principal Jackson, who was in a wheelchair said, “Agent Hotchnerwe need help. Half of the parents are calling for the school to close for a week. The abductions have stirred everyone up, no thanks to the media circus.” Hotch nodded and said, “We can understand your frustration, Principal Jackson. We hope to be as unobtrusive as possible. However, if we could hold an assembly in the afternoon, we think we could glean a lot of information from the student population. Often students know of events that they might not even know about.” Jackson nodded reassuringly and said, “Anything you think can help. Agent Hotchner, I’ll indulge anything. I just want the rest of our students home safe. This school has a significant amount of students who are dealing with difficult situations, either with parents, poverty, drugs, or crime. This leaves many of our students in the foster system. I lead a support group on Fridays during lunch to try and help them as much as possible. Keeping a school like this up with a good ranking is hard when no one seems to care about us or our students.” Hotch started tapping his forearm. He realized that the man was steering the conversation away from the missing kids and that Jackson was rambling. Spencer caught onto this too, and when the principal paused, Reid said, “Well you’re certainly involved with your students. I’m sure they appreciate that. Now could you give us more details on the students that were killed and those that are still missing?” _y/n_ noticed how excited and happy Jackson got when he got praise which was an odd reaction given the terrible circumstances. Agent _y/l/n_ turned their gaze to Hotch to see if he noticed it too. Aaron’s face was set in a frown, and his features were tight. He didn’t look overly enthused by the man sitting in front of them. After a half-hour of rambling about how wonderful, kind, and resilient the missing and dead students were, Aaron couldn’t take it anymore, thanked the Principal, and led _y/n_ and Reid away to a private room to make a plan. It was clear that they all felt the Principal’s reactions and emotions were odd, but no one addressed that right now as they might be overheard. Instead, Aaron said, “Agent _y/n_ I want you to give the address this afternoon, given this is your area of expertise. Reid, until the assembly I want you to look through the files of the missing and deceased students and see if there are even more connections between them. I’m going to go and speak to the teachers who had those students and see if they can add insight. With the tasks assigned, everyone started their work until the assembly. 

An hour later, the whole school assembled in the auditorium. Aaron chose not to stand on the stage, as he didn’t want any of the students to feel intimated or pressured in any way. He realized he could give off a solemn attitude that didn’t always fit well with adolescents. And standing where he was, he could watch for any major reactions in the audience. Aaron listened as the principal spoke about the fact that school was still planned for tomorrow because the board of regents still hadn’t met for an emergency meeting, but “We’re trying to as soon as possible. To our faculty and students, thank you for your calm and respectful response. We have two FBI agents here to give you a little talk.” The man motioned for Spencer and _y/n_ to step forward. _y/n_ stepped up to the mic and said, “Thank you, Principle Jackson. As Principal.Jackson said, my name is _y/n_, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid, and we’re both members of the FBI. We’re here to try and find out what happened to your classmates and friends. At times like this, it can be a very painful and scary thing. Even if you don’t know the missing students. It’s okay to have big emotions around what’s happening. Please know that there are people who care about you. If you ever feel unsafe or need someone to talk to, you can speak to a teacher or counselor. You aren’t wasting space or time. Your feelings are valid. Now, if you’re someone who knows Kaden, Victoria, Eli, Baker, or Shyann, we’d like to ask you some questions. You won’t get in any sort of trouble for speaking to us. We actually think that you might know something that we don’t. So if you’re one of those people, before you get dismissed today, please talk to a teacher. Thank you.” _y/n_ gave a little wave, and they and Spencer moved off the stage toward Hotch. As Jackson gave the release for the teachers and students back to the classroom, Spencer quietly asked, “Anyone stand out in the crowd?” Aaron nodded no and said, “No one that I noticed. The kids seem genuinely scared though. And the faculty too.” Hotch’s eyes flushed from Reid’s to _y/n_’s, and he said, “Good job with the announcement. You described the situation with the weight it deserved without putting anyone in a panic. Hopefully, some of the victim’s friends will be willing to speak with us after school.” As the trio waited for the final bell to toll, Aaron called the other BAU teams to see what progress they’d made. Rossi and Derek had found some pink insulation flakes where bodies had been dumped which proved the teens had been kept in a house or business. As Hotch was talking, _y/n_ said to Spencer, “Because these kids are all in the foster system, do you think the unsub is trying to save them somehow? The system’s not perfect and a lot of bad things can happen to those kids.” Reid nodded and said, “It’s a good point. We might try looking at caregivers like nurses or counselors. People who might know that abuse was happening at home.” A short while after this conversation, the bell rang. Only a small group of seven teens came to see the agents. Jackson had three classrooms set up for each agent to use. For the next two hours, each agent would speak to a kid and ask them questions about how they knew the victims, any behavior change, or anything odd. Hotch took special note that the first victim had started to withdraw from the football team which had been his life most of high school. Large shifts in behavior or interest could mean something significant. Aaron made a note to speak to the football coach as soon as possible. 

Eventually, there were only three students left. _y/n_ finished their last conversation first, and once the student had gone, wandered into the hall. _y/n_’s eyes were fatigued, and they closed them and stretched. A semi-familiar voice saying, “Any luck from the kids?” from behind _y/n_ had them snap around. Principal Jackson was approaching them. _y/n_ sighed internally. Jackson gave them the creeps. Also, _y/n_ couldn’t talk about what the children had said to them. _y/n_ quickly fixed their face of annoyance and just said obliquely, “Oh, you know, we were just chatting.” Jackson pressed further and said, “Oh come on, you can tell me. If anything, I should know as their principle.” _y/n_ looked away from the man’s gaze for a moment, his lingered. After a micro-second, _y/n_ looked at the Principal again and said, “We were just talking. But I’d like to hear more about that support group you run. That sounds like a very kind and beneficial thing you do in your scant free time.” _y/n_ said this as a tactic. They remembered how animated Jackson got before while talking about himself, and they needed to throw him off the interview thing. _y/n_’s plan worked like a charm. The man thanked them profusely for noticing his “good deed” and jumped into what he did, and how he helped these struggling students. As the man talked for what felt like an eternity, _y/n_ noticed the man’s eyes lower to a place that made _y/n_ highly uncomfortable. _y/n_ looked around the empty halls. They wished there were other people around. However, Jackson had suspended all before and after school activity and let the teachers head home directly after contract hours to be with their families during this stressful time.

_y/n_ hoped Hotch or Reid would come out soon. They had an idea that if either man joined them, Jackson would stop ogling them while lauding his service. _y/n_ felt that the man in front of them wasn’t fully acclimated to social situations which was odd given his job. Jackson was and had acted like a teenager with a total need for validation. This was proved correct as the man bizarrely said, “You see me in ways others don’t Agent _y/n_. Can I give you my number?” _y/n_ jaw dropped at the audacity of such a question. It was also at this very moment that Aaron stepped out of his classroom. He heard the comment and instantly looked over at _y/n_. Hotch, unfortunately, misconstrued the situation, as _y/n_’s back was to him and he couldn’t see they were shocked, and they put off face. Nor how they shook their head no as the man slipped his number into their palm. It didn’t help that Aaron was tired and stressed about the rapid taking and dumping of the teenagers. Also, his odd feelings toward _y/n_ in the parking lot, jet, and even as they were standing around in the auditorium were coming up again. The issue was that Aaron didn’t want to have to think about the feeling. In his head, the feeling didn’t exist, but now that they were twisting into disappointment at a clear breaking of boundaries annoyed him even further. Hotch called out to the principal to ask about the football coach to distract himself from the growing disappointment he felt. It didn’t help _y/n_ was too shocked to move which Aaron read as reluctance to look at him which would mean they had something to hide. Although none of this was true, _y/n_ was embarrassed and their face felt warm from the ludicrous ask by Principal Jackson. When Aaron was done with his question with Jackson, he called _y/n_’s name. It was harsh with a hint of bitterness underneath it. When _y/n_ turned and walked toward him, they slipped the number in their pocket. Aaron thought for sure he saw hesitation in their face, and he grit his teeth. The small amount of admiration that someone so young who had joined the team and seemed to do well with it up to now felt crushed for Aaron because they were possibly flirting with someone involved in the case. He thought he had a better read on people, and _y/n_ was now baffling him. Aaron would have said something about how inappropriate their actions were, except Spencer left his room and at that point, they should head back to the station to regroup. In a clipped tone, Hotch said, “Let’s go and catch up with everyone.” 

As Spencer and _y/n_ followed behind Aaron, they could both sense he was angry but neither understood why. Spencer shot _y/n_ an inquisitive look, but they just shrugged their shoulders as bewildered as Reid was at the change in Agent Hotchner. In the car, Spencer tried to cut the tension by talking about the case and those they’d talked to. Reid said, “I was surprised that there were so few people that showed up to talk to us. There didn’t even seem to be people there who just wanted attention.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’m not actually. Given the information we knew about the victims, they all seemed like wallflowers. Given that, plus the fact that foster kids move around often, face a hard life, and have a probability of trauma in their past, they might find it hard to make friends or put down roots at school or home.” Hotch, who was wearing his sunglasses to mask his emotions shot _y/n_ a look from the rearview window. _y/n_ met his gaze and again felt that he was disappointed in them. _y/n_ tried not to fidget as they continued driving on the busy road. Aaron put his eyes back on the street and felt confused again. Now _y/n_ was acting like an intelligent well-seasoned agent with their head on straight. Not someone who would take a number from someone possibly under investigation. He realized as a few minutes had passed, that he’d only caught a snapshot of the conversation, and he wasn’t getting their side of the story. However, that didn’t mean that he didn’t have to ask them about it which he wasn’t looking forward to. The tension lingered in the car even as they all talked about what they’d learned and how odd Principal Jackson was. At the man’s name, _y/n_ cringed. Aaron stated to everyone, “Jackson just started the support group this semester, so it seems like he could want to be involved in some way. Involving himself in the scene and the victims like most unsubs do.” The desire to go back to the scene of the crime and watch the suffering of those being impacted was a need for most of them. After this, Spencer added the theory that the unsub might see themselves as saving the victims from a bad situation and trying to offer them something better in their eyes.” _y/n_ added, “If that’s the case,  the victims have to know this person well. To trust them, and once they realize what’s happening they panic? Try to leave which the unsub wouldn’t like.” The conversation kept going until they all reached the station. 

Inside, the trio was greeted by the rest of the team. Before anyone had the chance to share, Aaron said, “Agent _y/l/n_, I need to speak to you alone for a moment.” Those words had the team quiet instantly. If Hotch called you into a space alone it wasn’t good unless you were Haley before the divorce. _y/n_ couldn’t stand the silence, even for a moment and softly said, “Sir.” Aaron walked to the empty, windowless file room, opened the door, and let _y/n_ go in before him. Once the door was shut in the small, stuffy room, Aaron turned and he said bluntly, without preface, “Were you flirting with Principal Jackson at the school.” Hotch sounded stern and disappointed and _y/n_’s eyes went wide. They weren’t sure how he’d read that uncomfortable situation iso incorrectly. _y/n_ wanted to clarify that that was not what had happened and said, “No, Sir. I would never do that on a case.” _y/n_ didn’t add that they hardly ever did it off a case either. Hotch still looked unconvinced and asked, “Then why do you have his number in your pocket right now? Why were you so flustered when you turned around?” Aaron could feel that unexplored emotion bubble up in him again, and he said those questions with more bite than he intended. _y/n_ took a visible step back from him, and they looked slightly hurt. Hotch looked at the ground for a second realizing he’d been too harsh. He dropped his arms from his chest and tried to appear more relaxed. He looked back at _y/n_ and said, “I’m sorry that I said that like I was accusing you and not asking you, _y/n_. This case is messing with my head. Would you please give me the context of what happened?” Aaron watched as _y/n_ relaxed a little and then opened up about the man’s bizarre and downright threatening behavior. Hotch felt bad once he’d heard the full story and said, “I’m sorry, _y/n_. For acting how I did and that you were put in that situation. Even if Jackson isn’t the unsub, he certainly is strange.” Hotch’s comment and the tone he used while saying it had _y/n_ let out a chuckle that made Aaron feel warm in the chest. He couldn’t help but give a ghost of a smile that things seemed smoothed over. As _y/n_ looked at Aaron they said, “Thank you for listening to me, Agent Hotchner. For letting me clarify.” Hotch felt an internal tug on his ribs in the center of his chest before saying, “Don’t mention it, and you can call me Hotch. Now let’s get back to the team.” Hotch turned to the door and missed that _y/n_ was flustered again, but not in an uncomfortable way. In a pleasant way. As both agents emerged from the room, the team looked over to them. Hotch’s soft, “I’ll make sure you’re not alone with him in the future” had _y/n_ nod.

That scene, and Aaron’s soft, almost protective tone, told the BAU that whatever issue had brought the two into the files room had been resolved. Everyone let out a silent sigh of relief. As much as the drama was interesting, it was never helpful on a case. Once the duo was back, the team jumped into the day. Everyone got caught up with all the details. The major updates were that JJ got a press briefing out and set up a better tip hotline with Garcia ready to tap and trace in a few seconds if a useful call came in. Rossi and Derek’s find of the insulation. Emily and JJ noted that all of the families seemed appropriately worried and concerned about what had happened and there didn’t seem to be any indication of abuse at the families' homes. Then there was the odd behavior of Jackson, but it was too early to assume that he was the unsub. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t bear looking into it. From the information the team gathered, they made the basic profile that the person was likely a white male in their mid-thirties or early forties with the possibility of it being a woman. The unsub had to own or rent enough space to keep at least two teenagers at a time. They likely had a savior complex and experienced trauma in their childhood. They were strong enough to kill a high school football player who fought back. It was also likely that the unsub was trying to keep track of what the police, and now the BAU were doing to keep one step ahead of them. This was the profile that Aaron gave the police. He didn’t tell the officers that the unsub was not good at what they were doing. They might be strong, but they made mistakes. The impulsivity of killing two people in one day and dumping them at the same spot was reckless. Also, the insulation was something a more experienced kidnapper would get rid of. The team hoped that the unsub would mess up enough to leave a big enough clue behind to be found. The teams paced and worked and profiled and took unhelpful tips from the hotline. And after another two hours, Aaron called it for the night. It was 12:30 a.m. and he knew having the team even partially rested would give them a good start in the morning. 

The Comfort Inn and Suits was not far from the police department, and the tiredness hit the team like a brick. Aaron, Rossi, and Derek drove everyone to the motel where they had to call an attendant to check them in. There weren't rooms near each other at the motel, so everyone went their own way to sleep or keep working. _y/n_ got to their room and set down their things. As they changed into more comfortable clothes to keep working and look at the case from their area of knowledge. As _y/n_ took off _y/f/c_ blazer, Jackson’s number fell out of their pocket. _y/n_ felt embarrassed all over again which kind of pissed them off. There were so many other things to be angry and upset about. The victims, the families, everyone worried sick, and here they were feeling flustered because of some man. _y/n_ shook their head to clear it. They needed a boost and the vending maching in the lobby called them for something sweet and salty. _y/n_ got up, slipped on shoes, and moved downstairs. As _y/n_ was paying for a soda and bag of chips a familiar voice asked, “You holding up okay, kid?” _y/n_ looked over to possibly the most famous member of the BAU and honestly said, “Agent Rossi. I don’t know. I think I could be doing more. I feel like my head’s all over the place. More than usual.” The thud of the soda can and chips at the buttom of the machine made _y/n_ stop talking. They realized they were oversharing to the most important man in the FBI. Dave didn’t mind, and he responded, “I can imagine why. You’re on a new team with all new dynamics ot figure out on a difficult and emotionally draining case. My mother, bless her soul, she always told me, ‘Everyone has a day one, one day.’ And from what I can see, you’re doing very well on your day one on the BAU.” _y/n_’s eyes widened at being told that after the days events. They couldn’t stop themself from saying, “But I made Agent Hotchern upset.” Dave waived a hand and said, “Lot’s of things make Aaron upset even though he’ll hever admit it. And he’s clearly not upset at you anymore. Give yourself some slack kid, and an hour of sleep if you can.” Rossi half turned indicating the conversation was coming to a close and _y/n_ finished it by saying, “Thank you, Agent Rossi.” Dave nodded and walked to the front door to get something he forgot in the car while _y/n_ took their snacks up to their room for a few more hours of thinking. 

In his room, Aaron had taken off his tie and suit jacket. He also undid the top two buttons his his shirt. As he sat at the desk and switched the lamp on, his mind momentarily flashed to the encounter with y/n_ in the file room. He couldn’t get his anger or the way they’d stepped away from him out of his mind. Aaron knew there were more important things to think about, but he knew his mind couldn’t be fully on the case if there was conflict or tension on the team. Tension he had started. He replayed the memory again in his head to pinpoint what the issue was so he could move on from it. He had over reacted. He knew that. Aaron didn’t like that _y/n_ had moved away from him with a tiny flicker of fear on their face. Like he might do something to them. Provoking that response from a fellow agent was unacceptable to him. He didn’t know _y/n_’s personal background well. He’d only read up on their case work and the remarks made in their most recent reports. He didn’t have time to learn more about _y/n_  than that before addeding them to the team. After all, that wasn’t his job. If it was anyone’s job, it was _y/n_’s Unit Chief. But the interaction this afternoon had Aaron thinking that _y/n_ had some painful experiences in their past. Then again, most FBI agents did, but Hotch rarely saw such a visceral representation of that. Another thing that bothered him was _y/n_’s response to his apology. Their small voice saying, “Thank you for listening, Agent Hotchner. For letting me clarify.” All that statement could mean was that someone hadn’t listened to them before. And Aaron knew that was how bad things kept happening. That was why questioning victims was so important. Hotch made a plan to apologize to _y/n_ again in the morning, and he felt for now, he’d have to leave it at that. It might never be the right place or time to ask _y/n_ anything more about their reactions. They were a temporary agent, and his feelings for them, whatever they were would never be fulfilled or reciprocated. With that in mind, Aaron jumped back into the case work. 

The next morning, at five a.m., the worst happened. Another body was found, this time in a differnt location, a popular park, and another teen had been taken. The town was in even more of a panic even though the victims were very specificly targeted. The Education Secretary of Texas, Mike Morrath, had to step in and override the district and close all schools for the remainder of the week. With that being the case, Hotch had the team split up. He and Derek would take the latest scene of the dumpsite while Rossi and _y/n_ would head to the school and see if there were any clues there as the latest victim, Tim Groff, had been one of the students Spencer had interviewed yesterday. JJ and Emily were going to speak to the new victims foster family as well as the partents of the deceased. Everyone moved effienctly and as soon as _y/n_ got to the school, they asked to see the security footage which _y/n_ asked Garcia to analyze. Particularly footage of the parking lot and front door where cameras were trained. One thing Aaron, _y/n_, and Spencer had found out yesterday in the interviews was that all of the victims so far had their own cars or got picked up from school. None took the bus. So the teens were either taken from home, which seemed unlikely given how concerned the parents were, or school. School was the likely answer. If they had been taken from the high school grounds, _y/n_ hoped that the tech genius could help. _y/n_ had found out about Garcia’s amazing abilities online and with a computer on the flight too Texas when she’d crunched massive amounts of date, given to her by Spencer at a mile-a-minute, in minutes. To say _y/n_ had been impressed was an understatement. After _y/n_ had sent the hours of footage from the school systems to Garcia, they approached Spencer who was interviewing Jackson for any possible leads. Jackson was much like he had been yesterday. As the interview wrapped up, Jackson turned to _y/n_ and said, “Agent _y/n_ may I have your card or something in case I need to speak to one of you if I think of something new during the day?” _y/n_ frowned and replied in a restrained tone, “Agent Hotchner gave you his card yesterday,” in an attempt to rebuff any inappropriate behavior on the Principal's part. Reid caught onto their play and quickly pulled out one of his FBI cards with his name, email and work phone and said, “Here, have mine.” Jackson frowned and took it with a snap before looking at _y/n_ and said, “I’d feel better if I had everyone’s number. In case I can’t reach one of you fine folks.” _y/n_ sighed and handed their card over. Not because they wanted to, but to shut the childish man up, and so they and Spencer could keep looking for things out of order at while speaking to other faculty members. Once the duo were out of earshot, Reid asked, “What was that all about?” _y/n_ sighed, shrugged, and said, “I wish I could tell you, Reid, And that wasn’t even the worst of it, but that conversation can wait till later.” Spencer nodded and they moved down the hallway a little faster. Spencer did note that the principal had been highly agitated that school had been cancelled which was shocking to him given the fact that school appeared to be the most dangerous place for the students. _y/n_ agreed. None of his made sense. 

Everything and everyone got thrown off the rails, however -- even Penelope's analysis of the school footage -- when an anonymous tip came in from someone saying they were the killer and had the rest of the victims. This sent each member of the team rushing to the address that Garcia had picked up from the trap and trace. It was not what the team expected given the information they knew about the profile. The address led to an apartment complex and not an isolated home. The team surrounded the unit. With a hand signal, Derek, and Aaron broke into the unit, and the team plus police followed. Inside the dimly lit bed room, Derek found a twenty-year-old man with bad teeth playing some videogame with a headset on. It was almost comically easy it was for Morgan to tackle him to the ground. The man shouted in protest and said, “What the hell, I didn’t actually do anything. What the fuck man.” Derek pulled the man named Gerret, to his feet placing cuffs around his bony wrists saying, “Well I don’t know if you know if or not, but taking responsibility for a crime, even if you didn’t do it and interfering with a federal invesitagation is a federal offense. So say good by to Call of Duty and get ready to spend some time with some real criminals behind bars.” Morgan got the un-unsub out of the house and into a police cruiser. Even thought it was very, very unlikely that the man was responsible, the team did a quick scan of the apartment. Reid sent Garret’s IP to Penelope who was quick to confirm that the man was as serial troll who had swatting charges, doxing attempts, and one successful bomb threat to the public library in town. Outside, Aaron was talking to an officer and started to grow frustrated with the lack of leads even though all the information seemed right in front of them. He thought back to the principal and just how odd he was. Deep down, even though he might not have the reason to yet, Hotch felt that Jackson was the man behind all of this. Hotch wondered if the facade of strangeness was a way to get others to think him incompetent of such a crime. _y/n_ who had looked at the contents of Garret’s room stepped out for a breath of air. Hotch motioned them over and asked, “Anything in his room?” _y/n_ replied, “He had what looked like possible snuff films and hours of violent porn, but I don’t know what you expect from an edgelord that makes it into adulthood.” He’s not our guy and never has been. He’s certainly not a good guy, but not ours. 

After that two hour distraction, the team got back to the precinct. Everyone was annoyed and one edge. Especially Aaron. He paced and stated, “What it is we’re missing. We should have everything. What’s missing?” Hearing this, Rossi said, “Mayby we do have everything we need.” Hotch looked over at him unasumed and said, “What do you mean by that, Dave?” Rossi replied, “Now that we have someone in custody, we can play them off the unsub. Sure, Garret’s a nobody, but the unsub doesn’t know that. Hold a press conference and say we got the guy. That he killed the victims because he thought it was fun. It gave him a rush. If the unsub has a savior complex, he’ll have to call and correct us. He won’t be able to help himself.” Hotch nodded. It was a good plan and direct contact with the unsub might give them the final push they needed. Aaron got the filmed segment set up with JJ and the local television stations. It would take place inside the precinct's front room and they’d flash a mugshot of Garret on the TV screen to make sure the unsub saw how wrong the BAU had gotten it. They would run the segment on prime time at seven p.m. when the station had the most viewership. As the team prepared there was a tense anticipation. _y/n_ paced and got a text on their phone. _y/n_ pulled it out and it was from Jackson. They sighed not having time for his nonsense. They clicked off and silenced their phone, as they watched JJ film the press release saying, “I’m happy to announce that with the help of the Dearborn Police Force and the FBI’s involvement, we have been able to apprehend the man behind the abduction and killing of three Dearborn High School Students. Now the location of the still missed students is unknown, so an intense search is being conducted at and near the perpetrator's apartment. The man behind these killings is Garret Gripe. The FBI was able to get a full confession from the man who said he did it because he hated kids and couldn’t stand it when he found them living a better life than his own. The main takeaways are that this community is finally safe again thanks to the hard and tireless work of the police. 

The cameras stopped rolling and Rossi moved toward JJ saying, “Great job. If this doesn’t get the unsub angry, I’m not sure what will.” JJ gave a small smile and replied, “I only hope it works. KSAT10 said that it will be a half hour before it airs. They need to make sure the audio is clear.” Aaron nodded at JJ. The plan did work. It worked to a T because twenty minutes after the press briefing aired, the tip line got a call. Aaron set Garcia up for the trap and trace and then picked up the line and put it on speaker. A muffled voice on the other end of the line shouted, “You think a child, a child could do what I do? A punk ass kid would hurt them! You’re all idiots. ALL OF YOU! You didn’t catch anyone and I’m going to keep taking, them forever.” The person on the other end of the line had yelled so much that he had to take a few deep breaths. Hotch looked over at Spencer who was on the line with Penelope. Reid held up five fingers to indicate five seconds more. Hotch didn’t want the unsub to hang up in a rage and said, “Why do you need to take them? What is it that you’re keeping them safe from?” The muffled voice said, “You’re the smartest man in the room Agent Hotchner, why don’t you figure it out? Or Dr. Reid, or Agent _y/n_? You’d like to, but you can’t, can you? You’re just as stupid as everyone else.” With that the line went dead. The specific call out for himself, Spencer, and _y/n_ upped Aaron’s suspicion about Jackson. Spencer took off the headphones and put Penelope on speaker as Hotch asked, “Did you get it, Garcia?” There was mad clicking of keys and then she said, “Yes. Just in time.” Hotch nodded and said, “We need the address, Garcia.” Some how the typing sound increased and Penelope said, “And the address is… 527 Humphry Drive. It’s a big house and lot. Owned by… one… Van Jackson.” Hotch stood and ordered the team to move out which they all did quickly running to the SUV’s.  

The Sherrif and five cop cars followed behind them as the team sped onto the road. On the radio, the Sherrif said, “You really think Van’s our guy? How can he take out kids when he’s disabled?” _y/n_, who was in Aaron’s car clicked the radio and said, “He gets in with them. Get’s to know them and make them trust him. Get into his car even.” Hotch nodded and asked, “What’s his story? Who is Van Jackson?” The Sherrif replied, “It’s can’t possibly be Van. Everyone one loves Van.” Impatient, Hotch said, “Yes everyone loves him, but who is he?” The Sheriff sobered and said, “Well he’s a bit of a local hero. He was born and raised here. Had a trouble childhood but made it out through a sports scholarship for football. He made it to the semi-pro’s joining the Capitol City Bison team in Austin as a linebacker. He made a good bit of money. He went into education and came back here. A year ago he got into a mountain bike accident and broke his back. It was really tragic.” Hotch could only think the tragedy was the dead chidren, but he didn’t voice that. Instead he shifted his thoughts to those who were still alive a possible trapped in the unsubs home. Aaron radioed the team and said, “Remember, there are still possible victims inside. Jackson might try and use them, so don’t shoot unless you have a clear shot. If not, don’t shoot. Use the profile. He need attention, feed into that.” The other two cars rogered that and soon after with a screeching halt, they arrived at the large, and fancy house. 

The house seemed quiet, with all the lights off and no sound coming from inside. However, the Principal’s car was parked out front, and the team took a stealth approach. Hotch indicated for Spencer and Emily to search outside. The rest of the team slipped into the home after breaking down the door as quietly as possible. He motioned for Rossi and Derek to take the upstairs and attic, and that he and _y/n_ would take the downstairs. All throughout out the house there were accessibility ramps for anyplace there were stairs. There was even a lift to get to second story of the house. This all matched up with the fact that Jackson was in a wheelchair. In the living room it was all quiet until there was a soft sob from somewhere either in the walls or close by. _y/n_ and Hotch froze. _y/n_ had good hearing and pointed toward the bookcase which is where they thought they had heard the sound come from. Aaron approached the shelf and looked it over in the dark of the room. As the felt along the side of the shelf he felt a gap and then a hing. Hotch motioned a swinging door, and _y/n_ moved behind him. They would have called for back up, but the sound would give them away. Hotch pulled out his side-arm along.  _y/n_ did the same. They both kept them pointed at the ground. Aaron pulled at the side of the shelf and it swung open silently. There was a light on at the bottom of some steep stairs. The steps were so steep in fact that they couldn’t see to the floor beneath. Without much choice, Aaron and _y/n_moved down the steps with Aaron in the lead. At the bottom of the stairs was a very small room and at the end, standing up in what seemed liked a modified crawl space, was Jackson and the latest teen to be take. The man had a gun to the teens had and tears were streaming down their eyes. Jackson said softly, “Do anything rash and he dies. And not a pretty death.” Aaron and _y/n_ nodded and they both dropped their weapons on the ground. They both noticed the pink insulation on the wall. Johnson turned his gaze to Agent _y/n_ and said, “Back up the stairs and close the door and then come back down. Keep your hands on your head at all times or I’ll kill him  and Agent Hotchner.” _y/n_ looked at Hotch and he gave them a slight nod. _y/n_ slowly and deliberately moved up the stairs, There was a button to close the door, and _y/n_ pressed it with their elbow. As the door closed, _y/n_ felt for a moment like they were being placed in a tomb. With the door closed, the sound of their breaths could be heard, showing just how soundproof the space was. _y/n_ turned around and then walked back down the stairs. 

When _y/n_ was next to Aaron, Jackson moved forward with the teenager. When the intimidating man reached the guns on the floor, he bent down with a bead still on the high schooler. He took Aaron’s gun and then pointed it at the Unit Chief, pushing the student aside. Jackson’s anger was building, as his nostrils flared. Hotch took a reassuring tone as he said, “You don’t have to do this.” Jackson’s face reddened, stepped forward, putting the gun an inch from AAron’s face. With such a deadly weapon so close to his head, Hotch managed to keep his cool. This fact bothered Jackson and he said, “Still the tough guy. Well, let’s see how tough you are with your brains on the walls.” This statement gave _y/n_ an in and they said, “You can’t do that Mr. Jackson. Van.” The man turned his furious gaze from Aaron to them and said, “I don’t think a whore who doesn’t text me back deserves a word, but tell me why not because I’m killing you next.” _y/n_ swallowed, and Hotch realized that his life was in _y/n_’s hands. _y/n_ tried to take all their training, everything they’d learned on their team and with the BAU, and went on instinct saying, “Because there are children in the room. Because you saved them from violence and you want to help them, and if you blow Agent Hotchner’s head off in front of them, what would that do to them then? What damage would they incur?” _y/n_ could see a tiny moment of hesitation in Jackson’s eyes, but he tightened the grip on Hotch’s gun anyway. _y/n_ took another breath and said, “You saved them and gave them a better life with a parent that loved them. Why throw that all away for this?” The instant Jackson hesitated the second time. Hotch pushed the gun up to the ceiling and Jackson fired hitting the light. The room went dark and the teenagers screamed. _y/n_ took out their phone. They could hear grunts and punches landing, but mostly it was the high schooler’s screaming. When _y/n_ managed to use their phone light to find their gun and shine the light at the writhing mass on the floor, it was too difficult to tell who was who. The sound of gunfire had _y/n_ cringe and hope beyond hope that it had been Jackson who got shot. For a second there was just heavy breathing in the blankness before _y/n_ asked, “Hotch?” The reply of “Yeah,” almost made _y/n_’s knees weak. But just for a second. They then quickly ran up the stairs, opened the door, and shouted for help. 

The next three hours passed by more normally than _y/n_ would have imaged for such a dramatic ending to the case. That was because they were doing what they did best, comforting those who had been taken. Even in shock _y/n_ provided what comfort they could, getting blankets and water. _y/n_ then intercepted the set of foster parents and told them what to expect, and how to act to best be reunited with their kids. And Aaron watched as the coroners placed a sheet over Jackson. He’d know the shot was clean because he’d pinned the man to the wall with nothing between Van's body, and he was glad that it had been in the dark because the aftermath hadn’t been pretty. The teenagers were escorted out of the room by _y/n_ before light had been restored to the room. And somehow, as if time warped around them, the team was back in the jet at around 4 a.m. headed to Virginia. Even though everyone should have been exhausted, there was still energy on the plane as so many aspects of the case still didn’t seem to match up. They all wanted some closure. The discussion started when Derek said, “So why fake the disability? Why choose to be in a wheelchair for over a year? Did he have Munchenson’s syndrome or something?” Emily replied, “He would have faked more illnesses than that if he had Munchenson’s. I think it was because he was a complete egomaniac. He couldn’t stand to not have the attention be on him.” Spencer added to this line of thought, saying, “More than an egomaniac, he probably had histrionic personality disorder. He not only felt like he needed to be the center of attention, to him he had to be the center of attention.” Hotch who was sporting a few bruises to the face, nodded and said, “He couldn’t keep playing football forever and just being generous and well like in town wasn’t doing to for him anymore, so he facked the back injury and everyone believed him. But then that grew old and his aspirations got bigger. He needed something new. He must have seen something in the first victim and thought that he could save them. Be a hero.” Morgan was still a bit hesitant to believe such a thing and said, “But does that happen? I mean, it did, but what’s the precedent?” _y/n_ now spoke and said, “Sherri Papini for one. She faked her own kidnapping with the help of an ex-boyfriend. She was a pathological liar and felt she deserved the attention.” JJ asked the next question to _y/n_ and the liason said, “_y/n_,” they were all on first name bases now except _y/n_ still called Aaron, Hotch, and Rossi, Rossi, “Why did you think to bring up violence when you were trapped down there. How did you know that would stop Jackson?” Everyone’s eyes turned to _y/n_ and they felt a bit uncomfortable under the gaze of the whole team. _y/n_ didn’t want to fully admit that it was a guess on their part, but ended up being honest, saying, “I wasn’t fully sure it would work. But a comment the Sherrif made about Jackson having a hard upbringing made me think it might stop him enough to think. Violence doesn’t always have to be physical either it was the broadest term I could think of instead of abuse. I think that when Jackson is under stress he becomes emotionally stunted somewhere in his past. Somewhere painful. That’s why he acted so strangely while we were around. So I tried to use an easy concept like a child might.” The team processed the information and nodded. Dave said, “Well whatever the cause was, you did good, kid. We’ll never know the whole truth, but at least the town is free from his reign of terror.”

Everyone agreed and then soon after the tiredness came now that they’d talked it out. So people grabbed blankets and sleep masks and soon the cabin was mostly quiet. Only _y/n_ Aaron and Rossi were still up. _y/n_ was sitting on a chair on the far side of the jet looking out the window. Aaron could see they were deep in thought, a slightly troubled look on their face. He moved closer, and once he sat across from _y/n_, he said, “What’s on your mind, _y/n_?” They turned their head toward Aaron and said, “That town is never going to be the same again. Those children in Jackson’s Friday group, or those who survived, I don’t know what’s going to happen to them.” Hotch nodded but didn’t say anything. He could tell that _y/n_ would say more, and after a few seconds, _y/n_ added softly, “Jackson really thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was saving those kids. It’s hard for me to reconcile when someone’s good intentions cause so much harm.” With the last sentence, Aaaron saw _y/n_’s eyes slip away from his and to the side. To some point on the jet’s wall. Hotch could tell with that sentence and _y/n_’a avoidant gaze that they weren’t just thinking of Jackson anymore. They had that look of going back into painful memories of one’s own. Again, the fact that Aaron didn’t know what had happened to _y/n_ in their youth ate at him, so he softly yet firmly said, “They were still wrong. He was still wrong. Good intentions don’t make a thing good. In time, people may come to understand that.” _y/n_ had turned their head back to look at him, and Aaron saw the tears welling in their eyes. _y/n_ said, “I hope so.” Hotch nodded, pulled a tissue from his pocket at handed it over to _y/n_. _y/n_ took it and rubbed it under their eyes catching the falling saline droplets that threatened to mar their face. Hotch shifted forward ever so slightly in his chair. He felt the tug and emotion in his chest again as he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” He wondered now if _y/n_’s Unit Chief had ever asked them this. Had noticed the pain lingering under the surface of _y/n_’s skin. _y/n_ thought about it and shook their head no. They weren’t quite ready to have that conversation. They did say, however, not even sure why, “Maybe some other time?” Again, Aaron nodded. He briefly looked around the cabin and suggested, “Maybe you should try and rest? There’s still a few hours until we get back.” _y/n_ nodded and slumped over in the chair saying, “Thanks, Hotch,” as their head landed on the armrest. 

Aaron moved to the back of the jet and made a cup of coffee before moving back next to Dave. He was still upset that he hadn’t figured it out sooner. Couldn’t have saved the last victim when the unsub had been right in front of him the same day. Rossi had watched the whole interaction with Hotch and _y/n_ and found it highly interesting. Aaron was not always so gentle. Hotch had been acting a bit strangely the whole case around Agent _y/n_. Rossi had a feeling he knew what was going on, but was going to wait for the right time to say anything about it. As Hotch sat across from Dave in the small space, he couldn’t keep his despairing thoughts to himself as he said, “How did it get so bad? I was pretty sure I knew it was him. And I think _y/n_ knew it was Jackson too, but I got angry and someone else died, and he was right there?” Rossi could see that Aaron could talk this way, in circles, for hours if left undisturbed. So Aaron’s friend laid out the facts as clearly as possible. Dave remembered that Aaron had once been a young agent too as he said, “Aaron, we had no right to search Jackson's house until we got the call. You might have just thought he was a weird man. There are lots of weird people who don’t turn out to be killers. And, the Sheriff said they had all had a meeting at Jackson’s house three days before we got there and no one saw any kids or heard anything. They had no clue the people they were looking for were under their feet. Plus we were almost working with two personalities. Not Dissociative Identity Disorder or anything, but there was the egomaniac and the child. The child in Jackson was disorganized and needy, and you don’t expect that from a grown man. It was a weird case. Plus we had a new agent in the mix.” When he spoke about _y/n_, Rossi looked at Aaron and gave him that look. Hotch rolled his eyes and said, “Dave, please, not this again.” Rossi shook his head and said, “It’s been a year since Haley left, Hotch. You’re allowed to look at someone attractive.” Aaron scoffed and said, “Dave _y/n_’s not even a part of the team. Once they get to Virginia, they’ll go back to the _______ field office. It’s not that I don’t find myself attracted to them, but that I can’t. I just can’t.” Rossi shook his head and just said, “Aaron, at some point you’re going to have to give yourself grace. Not just on the case, but about how you feel too. You’re only human after all.” The conversation ended there and the jet continued its silent journey home. 

The team took the rest of the day off, and _y/n_ got a motel. They would need to finish their forms and turn them into Hotch before returning to their team. The following day, _y/n_ got a temp desk which only reminded them that this thing, being on the BAU, was temporary. Even though the case had been very stressful, _y/n_ was already thinking about how they would miss this team and all that they’d learned at the BAU. As it turned out, despite all the hype and fame that the team received, they were still just agents. The best agents, but they acted like people and that had only added respect for the team in _y/n_’s eyes. At the end of a long day of writing, _y/n_ moved to Aaron’s office. _y/n_ knocked, then entered the lamp-lit space. Hotch’s dark eyes found theirs, and they both felt something between them. _y/n_ quickly averted their gaze and moved toward the desk. _y/n_ had looked away when the feeling started, not because it wasn’t enjoyable, but because it was, and _y/n_ was sure there probably wasn’t supposed to be feelings. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “Are you finished with your file?” _y/n_ looked at him again and extended the manilla envelope, saying, “Yes, Sir.” Hotch extended a hand and took the folder from theirs. Aaron said deliberately, thinking of what Rossi, and had said, “You did a good job on this case, _y/n_. If another case mostly involving children should come up and you’re available, I’ll ask for you again.” From Hotch, this was high praise, and _y/n_’s eyes widened. They responded, “Thank you, Sir. It would be an honor. I understand why this team is held in such high regard. Thank you for having me.” Aaron nodded and asked, “When’s your flight back?” _y/n_ looked at the clock on the wall and said, “Eight p.m. I should probably go straight to the airport. I checked out of my motel this morning.” Aaron nodded and said jokingly, “Please tell me you’re not taking another rental?” That made _y/n_ laugh. It was bright and happy, and it warmed Aaron to hear. _y/n_ shook their head no and replied, “Not this time. I’ll call an Uber or something.” Hotch frowned slightly and looked at his watch. It was already five and the traffic would be awful this time of the evening. Not only would it take over an hour to get to the airport, but it would cost an arm and a leg as well. Aaron said, “I can drop you off. It will be quicker and it won’t be a hundred dollars down the drain.” _y/n_ raised a brow in surprise and said, “Are you sure?” Aaron nodded, and as he stood he became even more sure as he said, “Yeah. I’m sure.” When Hotch held the door open for _y/n_ they looked at him while walking out. This time _y/n_ didn’t turn their eyes away from him as a ghost of a smile formed on Aaron’s face. In the car, they both felt very differently than the last time they’d driven together. That had been out of need, this was something else. As _y/n_ sat, they considered how somewhere in the future they would be back helping the BAU again, and the feelings they both had for each other, whatever they were to become when they met Aaron again, well, only time could tell.

______________________________________________________________

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[byeoltoyuki]

✧Memories of us ✧ How we met

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Likes and reblogs are appreciated.

Masterlist / previous / next

If you had to describe your friendship with Jisung it would be love at first sight. Or more like friendship at first sight. He came like a damn hurricane in your life during one lunch break that you had to spend alone. Yunji was sick which left you alone, to suffer through the day, through boring classes. But you didn’t always mind the loneliness, in fact, sometimes you welcomed it with opened arms. Like today. You found the perfect spot to eat your homemade sandwiches and took the chance to pull out your sketchbook from your bag. 

The weather was lovely, a light breeze brushing your hair every now and then. The flowers had fully bloomed, bathing in sun, the sight was perfect and you couldn’t help but draw what you saw. But your peaceful moment was quickly interrupted. Loud voices echoed from somewhere not far from you. You frowned and tried to ignore it, trying not to get bothered by it. Which was impossible.

“Come back here you little bitch!” A very loud and angry voice yelled, getting closer to you. 

Why did they have to ruin such a peaceful moment? Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to see who were the troublemakers and who deserved a very slow and painful death. 

A guy ran past you, so fast you barely had time to see him. He was laughing, clearly amused with the situation and not scared for his life. Despite the moment being short, you recognized the guy as one of your classmate who always sat at the back of the classroom. The one that always looked bored, the one you caught sleeping in class few times. From outside, he looked exactly like the kind of guy you should avoid, and yet, his grades told you another story. He was good, a genius even.

‘What’s his name again?’ You wondered. You tried to remember all the names. You had a rather good memory but not when it came to names. 

“You’re a dead man, Han Jisung!” The loud guy yelled again, getting closer to you. 

Ah! Right. Your eyes darted back and forth between Jisung and the other guy. You didn’t know what Jisung had done to anger this guy but they were being unnecessary loud, disturbing your peace. 

You sighed, your decision made.  The moment the angry guy was close enough, you outstretched your foot. Too angry and too concentrated on Jisung, he missed your foot and fell with a loud, and very unmanly, shriek. 

“Oops. My bad.” You feigned innocence.

Maybe a tiny part of you felt sorry for him and worried that he had hurt himself. But just a tiny part. You looked down at him, shook your head in disappointment; you couldn’t go back to your drawing now. 

Jisung halted in his track, surprised with the sudden noise coming from behind him. He tilted his head to the side, taken aback and a little curious of the sight. Doyun was lying and whimpering on the floor while you stood, hands on your hips, hovering over him. He recognized you instantly; the quiet girl who apparently wasn’t so quiet and definitely not gentle after all. 

To say that Jisung was impressed would be an understatement. He whistled and clapped his hands. You thought that there was definitely something wrong with him - until your eyes locked. You couldn’t be sure what he thought and what he felt right at that moment, but you, you thought he had the brightest smile and the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. 

“Thank you.” Jisung said, grin so wide. “My angel.” 

[arohawke]

a new (old) plan is put in motion

JACK (as Connadine): As anyone with even a passing familiarity will tell you, we are a principality of spies. Of course-

AUSTIN: There’s a little chuckle [imitates a faint chuckle]

JACK(as Connadine):  We know the extent of that understatement.

[“Adagio” by Jack de Quidt begins playing]

Some five thousand years ago, on our home planet, our predecessors employed one of the most remarkable psychological operations ever undertaken by the Principality. Using the immense future-seeing power of an oracle engine, they generated hundreds of thousands of near-flawless predictions: who would sit in government; the weather on a winter’s day; the right career for the son of a surgeon; the number of toy boats in an ornamental pond, the color of their sails;

These predictions were made in something like a loop in which the Principality’s citizens, whether they recognized it or not, were cast as actors. When two thousand years pass between the overture and the final bows, the exact shape of the play becomes helpfully obscured to anybody but the director. The system of control and surveillance was so comprehensive, so effective, so far-reaching that it cloaked itself in its total obviousness. And I’ve been sent to Palisade to bring this planet on cycle.

Of course, given the loss of the machine that drove the original project, the circumstances are meaningfully different, but Kesh has changed too. We understand, as an old friend of mine once said, that the easiest way to ensure that any tomorrow is a Tuesday is to make sure people believe that today is a Monday. You will have noticed that the workshop’s being constructed, I’m sure. Carpenters and costumers have been brought on the Princept’s orders, prop-makers. We are assembling quite a little paint shop.

We’ve already begun distributing predictions. A star will fall over Carleon. Yes, it will. Our ships are in place to destroy the satellite. A text found in a library in Carmathen will describe a long-forgotten duke returning on a black horse with white fetlocks. We are working on the script.

And we have been given a gift in our alliance of sorts with the existing Fabreal Duchy. A feudal society, constructing themselves around holy days, elaborate quests, and displays. They pass themselves down to their successors in the form of liquid glass – we only need adjust its consistency. There is a unique vector of weakness here. We will come to these lords wearing their own clothes and before long they will raise their cups in a toast that we have constructed, believing in their hearts it is some ancient, beautiful bastion of their own culture.

Now, this process will not be easy, nor will it be quick. I’m under no illusions that what we can accomplish will ever move with the grace and precision of what our ancestors knew. But I hope that we are setting a metronome in motion. Today we might only hear the click as it sets the time. Maybe in a few weeks we will hear a violin join us. In a year, we will start to see the shape of a piece of music. And when we are long dead and our bones lie in spies’ nameless memorials, our successors will look up at the sunset sky of hope and down at the complete score in their hands.

And hear the great, tempestuous rush of a symphony.

[“Adagio” by Jack de Quidt ends]

[dcawritings]

Green Hills and Blue Skies

Solunis is an Eclipse-style animatronic made for the exclusive use of a renaissance fair. He was designed to be flashy and entertaining, charming and witty, able to dazzle guests with his unique feature of flipping between two modes — Solar and Lunar Eclipse — upon whim or request. He’s exuberant and talented across a wide range of musical and storytelling skills, but most importantly he’s—

Lonely.

So very, very lonely.

Three hundred and six thousand, five hundred and forty-two minutes.

Five thousand, one hundred and ten hours.

In other words, a touch under seven months exactly, down to the very moment in time that he was initially powered on -- when his systems came to life beneath blinding floodlights and his mind suddenly stuffed full of awareness.

Activity. Life. Pain.

The sensory overload was almost as agonizing as it was immediate. From cold and lifeless to the functional equivalent of a fully-grown adult, it wasn't something one could simply describe. The act of living when one was dead just a moment before — though non-existence would be more fitting of a description. It was as if every single byte of information within his body was on fire all at once, tearing through metal and wire and plastic until it engulfed him with the raw, unfiltered sensations of being alive.

To call it a shock would be an understatement.

At least the employees had the decency to power him on for the first time a few days before the grand opening of the fair. Not enough time to cope with the existential dread of suddenly being alive, mind you.

But long enough to learn how to hide it behind a mask.

That was seven months ago.

Seven months ago, he didn’t even have a name — not really, at least. He had a model type (Eclipse ver 2.32) and serial number (so long a string of letters and numbers that it isn’t worth mentioning), but neither of those concepts constitutes a name proper. His handlers came to calling him ‘Eclipse’ in passing, but his official title was dependent on what of two distinct forms he took on.

Solar Eclipse and Lunar Eclipse. Catchy, one might think. Creative. Witty, even.

With his flashy attire fitting for that of a fantasy bard mixed in with the aesthetic of a royal jester, he truly was eye-catching. His signature feature was being able to switch back and forth from warm reds and golds to cool blues and purples in the blink of an eye. Not into separate personalities, as some earlier models did as a cost-saving measure, but simply to impress crowds of onlookers drunk on mead and happy to listen to a blissful tune of an animatronic almost tailor-made for entertainment and charm.

He has a name now, of course. One of his own choosing, not to be pried from his cold, power-drained fingers no matter how many times his systems were reset — the employees stopped doing that after a while, when it was obvious it was more effort to do so after every weekend than to simply let him roam about freely in the hours between shows and seasons.

Solunis. His name was—

His name is Solunis.

And it is Solunis who stands at the edge of the fairgrounds, beyond where the markers urge fairgoers not to tread, lest they wander into the thicket of the forest beyond and end up lost to the monster of mother nature.

In the last seven months almost exactly, Solunis had contemplated leaving the fairgrounds completely. He bore no physical shackles, no tether of which connected him to the buildings and fake castles currently inhabited by ghosts of crowds that wouldn’t return for several months when the weather grew warmer and more… pleasant. Only the utility bots remained, silent and passive. They felt like ghosts too.

Solunis ponders on what lies beyond the forest. And beyond that. And beyond that still. There is a vision wrapped somewhere deep in the animatronics programming. It’s… odd, like a memory he never lived, but colorful and vivid all the same.

Of rolling green hills and a soft spring breeze, a wide sky of beautiful cerulean that seems to stretch on for an eternity. The sun is bright and warm against the surface of his body, so much that there’s not a single worry or want in the bot’s entire being. He wonders how far this place is or if it even exists at all.

But maybe Solunis can find it. After all, nothing is keeping him tied here, right? He could charge using sunlight and had the newest kind of internal power engine that meant he could stay active for weeks at a time without so much as a sliver of the morning dawn. It’s what kept him active in the cold, dark winter weeks since the last fair. And… maybe it’s what will give him a chance to leave.

To find this place of green hills, blue skies warm sunlight. Away from everything.

But Solunis isn’t free just because he wears no physical leash; he learns this the hard way upon trying to take but a single step beyond the forest line.

It’s something inside of him. A computer chip most likely, triggered by gps coordinates or some other horrifying assertion of technological dominance hidden somewhere on the grounds. It sends a sudden wave of horror through Solunis’ entire body a mere millisecond before the shocks tear through him. Though he had never once been struck by lightning (nor had such an experience stored in his memory banks) he would describe it exactly like that; suddenly struck with a thunderous weight of a mountain that buzzed and burned through every single wire.

It’s pure agony.

He’s on the ground in seconds, screams of pain filtered and reverberated as his voicebox can barely produce noise at all beyond a shrill whine of metal and fear. And it gets worse. And worse.

And worse.

It’s only when Solunis manages to drag himself just a few feet back, struggling to crawl as his body trembles with an electric misery that only fades when he is back outside of the forest line once more.

He lies there for a while, staring up at the clear moonlit sky.

The sky in winter is often clearer, a preferred condition when trying to stargaze. Something about how the cold makes the air dryer, so there’s less water vapor to make the dark heavens above seem muted and fuzzy. Solunis had come across that fact somewhere in his information archives tucked deep into the unconscious parts of his systems.

He can count almost every single speck of light visible beyond a certain threshold of light, but he can’t take a single step beyond his tiny, isolated world. The only one he’d ever known.

The pain has been gone for a while now, but the specter of it remains in his thoughts, branded into the bot’s memories. He doesn’t try his luck a second time.

Green hills and blue sky will have to wait for another day.

Even if that day will never come.

[mitochondriencocktail]

fake out make out

I had to google the trope, but HELL YEAH. This was really fun to write :) Thank you for the prompt! I've been having a writer's block, so it was nice to get things flowing <3

Prompt: fake out make out

To say that his life had changed after Eurovision would be an understatement for Bojan. Though Joker Out hadn't scored quite as high as he'd been hoping, there had been an undeniable press of the defibrillator against the band's global pulse and now - rocketed into the spotlight - their careers were soaring up up up. A whole new world of possibilities at their fingertips.

That being said, the attention that came from it left a lot to be desired. Bojan in his teen years had all but salivated at the thought of fame, of being desired, but now that it was thrust into his face... well, the reality of it all had come crashing down faster than a high school party busted by the cops.

Social media pings and nosy eavesdroppers and invasive questions and rumor after rumor after rumor; all of it culminating in what might've been a frantic FaceTime to Jere one evening, tears streaming down Bojan's face.

And so, Jere had hopped on the first plane he could manage to wrangle.

He looks over at Jere who walks beside him now, hoodie up, hands in the pouch; the black fringe of his hair peeking out just so, but not suspiciously. He had, for all intents and purposes, managed to obscure himself during his visit to Slovenia, with the wintry weather on their side. Most people this time of year and day opted to either hit the slopes or stay indoors; so, with a bit of grace and luck, Jere's trip had gone nearly unnoticed.

Here, in these moments, Bojan felt at peace. Enjoying the solitude. The anonymity. The fact that - at least for a little bit - he could relax into the wholeness of himself; no filters, no fragments, no falsities.

Just the comfort of a good friend.

"Are you sure you're good in just a sweatshirt?" Bojan asks, looking aside at Jere as they take an evening walk through a quieter part of the city. The sort of place where there weren't any prying eyes or ears or - god forbid - cameras.

"Hm? Oh, yes, yes, I am from Finland-"

"Suomi!" Bojan interjects, grinning.

"Yes, Suomi," Jere laughs, knocking into Bojan's shoulder.

Bojan opens his mouth to continue the banter, but something catches in the corner of his eye. Up ahead, bodies mingling around a glowing building.

A music venue.

Shit, his feet must've taken him this way instinctually. From the looks of it, the show's just ended for the night and the crowd is ready to disperse; cameras and fans fanning out, a group headed this way.

There's the distinct possibility that they won't recognize Bojan, but he'd be deluding himself if he thinks that's true. Gossip travels fast and he feels his heart trip over itself with anxiety at the idea of being spotted- of having to interact with someone outside his immediate bubble.

So in a move that Bojan can only described as 'panicked,' he finds his hand reaching out to grab Jere by the wrist, wrenching his hand out of his hoodie pocket and backing him up into the nearest alleyway. A bicycle falls over in his haste, but Bojan's gone fully survival mode.

Leaning into the shadows, he grips Jere's face and plunges in. Lips against lips, teeth clacking, noses mashed. He licks into Jere's mouth, a silent plea to swallow Bojan whole and hide him away from the world. He kisses and kisses and kisses until he's dizzy, the group passing by with a hurried, awkward shuffle past the two people playing tonsil hockey in a dark alley.

Finally, once Bojan has some control over himself again, he pulls back with a gasp and heat on his cheeks.

"I don't know why I did that. Shit- sorry, I..." Bojan trails off. His stomach lurches.

In retrospect, that was probably the worst possible reaction. If they'd been caught- god, Bojan doesn't even want to consider that.

Jere stares at him, hands still fisted into the front of Bojan's coat. It's dark, but Bojan swears he can see dilated pupils.

"I'm so sorry," Bojan repeats, urging Jere to say something, anything.

"What the fuck?" Jere finally exclaims.

"I-"

Before Bojan can answer, the hands fisted into his coat pull him in again for another kiss and Bojan finds himself leaning into it again; soft and warm and wet, the bristle of a beard against his face. Jere kisses him with intent and oh, okay okay okay, Bojan's catching up now. The subconscious thoughts slithering to the forefront of his mind. The dreams he pretends he doesn't have, doesn't wake up achingly hard to before taking care of it in the shower. The way his heart goes a little stupid when Jere's pressed up against him. The way he pictures his life two, five, ten, thirty years from now, and somehow Jere is always still there - even in the peripheral.

Jere pulls back finally and glares up at Bojan.

"I could be kissing you this entire time!?"

"I should be asking you the same thing!" Bojan laughs, letting determined hands pull him in yet again- and again - and again.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Six: Textbook Victim (Mickey’s POV)

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, stalking, stealing, mentions of murder, mentions of killing Dahlia, kissing, feelings, Mickey being a sick fuck, insight to Mickey’s obsession with Dahlia, mention of masturbation, etc

I know I said I was waiting till I finished chapter seven, but some of you are just so excited it makes me so happy to know that you guys love this series so far! Like, it means the world you don’t even know. So much love to everyone whose taking the time to read this series because man, it is so inspiring. Once again, big huge massive thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this chapter dude! I really couldn’t do this without you. Love you a fuckton! <3

Also @lizey-thornberry you wanted to be tagged! Appreciate the love dude!

Let’s go!

Everything about her was utterly magnetic, but she had absolutely no idea of the impact she was having on me.

I knew why I was here, what my job was. If she knew what I was doing, she wouldn’t be happy with me, but I just can’t help myself. That’s the understatement of the fucking century, she’d hate me. Could I blame her if she did? No.

From the moment I saw her, I was enticed. I remembered before coming to Windsor College, seeing news articles about her and of course with what we had planned, I had to do my research.

It didn’t take me long to find out that Dahlia Levine was Stu Macher's cousin, though it took scouring through a lot of different websites and talking to some people obsessed with the Woodsboro murders to find out, as it hadn’t been in Gale Weathers shitty book. According to one guy, Dahlia’s family was insanely wealthy and paid off a fuck ton of people to protect their name and their image, but not their daughter. I’d seen a picture of her for the first time in one of the many chat rooms and God, she was beautiful. She was standing next to Stu in a family picture that had been almost entirely scrubbed from the internet, mid-laugh from something he himself had clearly said because the woman I assumed to be her mother did not look impressed by either of them.

She was fucking perfect. Too fucking perfect. I like to think I have an impressive vocabulary, but she makes it hard to find the words to describe her, nothing feels quite good enough.

I stared at that photo maybe a little too often, fisted my cock when looking into her big brown eyes and just like that, I needed her. I needed to kill her, slide the cold steel of my knife into her over and over again whilst looking into those damn brown eyes and watch the light fade out of them. I needed this more than I needed air to breathe, more than I wanted to kill Sidney fucking Prescott and her stupid group of fucking friends.

Then I saw her in person a few months before we were officially introduced.

I thought that this girl couldn’t be the same girl in the picture I’d been staring at all these months. Her eyes weren’t right, already lifeless, which honestly put me off. She never smiled, she never laughed. She hardly registered it when anyone acknowledged her. You know that phrase, lights on, nobody home? It’s like lights were off, and the house was abandoned, haunted by some barely there ghost.

I began subtly following her around campus, video camera in hand, deciding to track her. Although her days were basic, consisting of classes and visits to the library as well as the laundry room in her building, I felt myself becoming more and more connected to her over the weeks. I’d watch everything she did. I’d watch everything Randy and Sidney did too, but that was different, I didn’t have the same interest which I knew my predecessor's mother would not be at all happy about, but the fuck did I care? The killings wouldn’t be starting for a year and a half, and I needed a toy to entertain myself with.

But then? Oh, my fucking God, then I found out that Dahlia had died.

I’d been walking past the library where Sidney and Randy perched on the steps, talking to each other in clear yet hushed voices about the events of Woodsboro, which immediately caught my attention. I was good at hiding in plain sight, so I walked around the steps of the library and leaned against the wall, pulling a book out of my bag, so I could listen to Randy talk.

“She keeps saying she’s fine, Sid,” Randy had said, worried concern was evident in his tone, “But you’ve seen her, she’s not the same as before.”

“Well, are you surprised?” Sidney had whispered back, eyes locked on him as she said, “Stu did nothing, and she died-“ my brow suddenly creased, and my eyes narrowed as I listened on, “- after Billy stabbed her. Would you be okay if your cousin just stood by and let that happen?”

That just piqued my interest in her further.

Now, I can admit that I get a little… Obsessive, and at times it doesn’t come out in the best of ways. I’m usually able to channel that obsession, steal things that belong to the object of my extraordinary interests, but with her? It was never enough. Breaking into her dorm and stealing her notebooks? Her clothes? Her panties? Getting myself off to the thought of killing her with them clenched between my fingers? It was never enough. I had to know her, I needed to know her. I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she’d be, my perfect victim; the relative of one of the Ghostfaces who had not only died, but came back to life. What could be more ideal than that as a victim?

So I infiltrated myself into Sidney’s friend group, earlier than Nancy and I had initially discussed. Of course, she wasn’t happy, she thought I’d made myself “too available too fast” and they’d grow suspicious, but I don’t know if they were oblivious, in denial or just downright stupid because they pretty much welcomed me with open arms after I grew closer to Derek. I started talking to Randy in film class, playfully arguing about movies and cinema and harmlessly flirted with Hallie when I’d bump into her around campus, but she wasn’t who I wanted.

It was just like a game, like I was in my very own movie. It was fun, but I still wanted her, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t hang around with Sidney and Randy that often at the very least.

I’d seen her talking to Sidney whilst I was talking to some girl from my statistics class and I quickly brushed her off when their conversation ended, making her sigh irritably at my sudden lack of interest in her and flounce off in a huff, but I paid her no mind. Sid and I had plans for coffee, so when she waved to me, walking across the green I smiled at her as warmly as I could muster, reluctantly forcing my gaze away from Dahlia.

“Who was that?” I’d asked casually, gesturing loosely over to Dahlia’s retreating form headed for the library.

Sid glanced over her shoulder and I saw her smile sadly in her direction as she sighed, “That’s Dahlia.”

“That’s Dahlia?” I’d asked in careful surprise, ensuring my tone wasn’t overly fake. It was the first time I’d said her name out loud, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way it rolled off my tongue, “You and Randy talk about her, but I wasn’t sure she was even real.”

“She’s…” Sid hesitated for a moment as she turned back to look at me before continuing, “Shy. She’s never quite moved on from what happened in Woodsboro, you know? It’s harder for her.”

“How come?” I asked, but of course I already knew.

Sidney pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing a little as she briefly shook her head, clearly trying to change the subject, “It doesn’t matter. Are we getting coffee or what? Derek said he’s meeting us there.”

I ignored her attempt to divert the conversation, trying to keep my voice even as I continued, “You know, if she’s shy, maybe you should introduce her to us.” I suggested, walking alongside Sidney, whose face turned a little thoughtful. I grasped at straws and carried on, “Maybe her having friends that aren’t just you and Randy can help her move on, get her back to however she was before.”

Sidney looked up at me, head tilted a little to the side and her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

“You said she never quite moved on from Woodsbro. And although I only saw her from a distance, she looked… Sad.” I replied smoothly. Damn, Sidney was a suspicious person. Of course, she had every right to be, but I knew I had to start being more careful. I couldn’t let the fact that I wanted Dahlia get in the way of my true purpose, from achieving what I was destined to achieve.

Shortly after, Sidney introduced Dahlia to everybody. And now, a few months later, here we were, Dahlia’s soft lips pressing against mine as she pulled herself up on her toes using my shoulders, and taking me completely by surprise.

I didn’t know what to do, I just froze. This wasn’t what I expected, not at all. I didn’t have feelings for people. I fucked them, sure, falling into bed or being on a couch, making them believe I was into them, sliding deep inside a soaked hole and taking advantage of vulnerability, being inside a person but not letting them back in was natural to me. I flirted, of course, led people on, played the game and enjoyed pulling people like puppets on strings, but her? Being here, feeling her warm soft body pressed against mine, tasting her, smelling her coconut scented shampoo, it was different. I felt my heart thud in my chest, felt the reserve of my confidence begin to fade.

Fuck, she had me already. It took a moment, but I kissed her back slowly, my hands pulling her closer to me by her hips. I felt her breath hitch slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile against her, my fingers moving to trail up the curve of her spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She wasn’t a bad kisser, she just seemed so sweetly inexperienced, it was fucking intoxicating. God, I wanted to fucking teach her. I wanted to show her just how good her life could be until the day I inevitably ended it.

Something seemed to snap and quickly change inside of her as she suddenly stiffened before gasping into my mouth and gently pushing me away from her, pulling back with her eyes wide in horror and embarrassment as she looked at me and took a few steps back. Her hands falling to her side as she looked at my very evidently dumbstruck face, “I’m sorry! Oh my God, that was so stupid, I am so sorry!”

She began rambling, fast and almost incoherent as a stream of apologies left her, almost tumbling over each other in their haste to be expressed. I shook my head, unable to stop the amused smile taking over my face as I looked over her.

Her cheeks were stained a gorgeous pink, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could twist it, pink bleeds instead to the red inside of her, the scarlet that pumps through her veins, pushing, making her draw breath and live, would be even more beautiful, staining the steel of my knife. Fuck, she’d be absolutely ideal.

“Dahlia,” I spoke her name first, a pause followed before I asked quietly, making her eyes flicker up to mine before they fell on the ground again, “Was that your first kiss?”

She let out a small scoff, but her cheeks flushed even deeper and said nothing. Could this be any more perfect? The plan started churning endlessly in my mind. The potential future of us stretches out before me as if on endless spools of film reel, rolling in every which way, so many scenes, how many could be acted out? How many would make the cutting room floor?

I never pretended to be a good person, I’m not. Truthfully, I like Dahlia. I like how I was the only person able to bring back the fire she used to have inside of her, not even that fucking idiot Randy could do that, and they had been friends for years. Though, I really think he wants more, but that’s too fucking bad for him. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want her. Looking at her, just so beautiful, so fucking vulnerable and pure, is when I knew.

It wasn’t like with Billy and Sidney, I didn’t hate Dahlia, I didn’t want revenge for anything. I like her, perhaps too much. I don’t know how to distinguish between liking or loving someone and obsession, to me the two were like two sides of the same coin. But there is one similar thing I did share with Billy.

I was going to have her, strip her from all the remaining innocence she had. Touch her, taste her, heal her, fuck the life right back into her before I thought it was time to take all of it away. I want to tear her apart. I want to piece her back together, fix her just to ruin her, be the one to end her, finish the job Billy fucking Loomis couldn’t.

The one thing, though, is she has to die. I don’t want to kill her for any reason but to fulfill her destiny and make people see her for who she is.

The absolute perfect, textbook victim. My fucking victim. She’d be immortalized, is that not what everyone wants?

“It’s okay, Dahl.” I laughed, taking a step toward her. She didn’t move, and her eyes refused to meet mine as I continued, “You want to pretend like it didn’t happen, that’s fine, we can carry on just being friends.”

This made her eyes look up into mine, so deep, warm brown like when the sun filters through leaves on trees in autumn before they fall and innocent it made my head spin, “Is that what you want? Do you really think we can be just friends?” She asked in a small voice. She looked so… innocent. If I’m being honest, she was utterly endearing. Her big brown eyes looked like pools of honey in the remaining light, deep and enticing.

The sun was beginning to set now, how long had we been out here? There wasn’t really anyone on the green anymore, just a few stragglers that may as well have been pieces of trash for all the attention I was giving them.

How should I play this?

“Honestly, I don’t think you and I are ever going to be “just friends”, Dahl.” I said truthfully, fingers raising in air quotations.

I heard her swallow, and she lightly shrugged her shoulders with a sigh, “I don’t know you, Mickey. Not really. Can’t we just forget it happened?”

Fuck, I loved the way she said my name. It sounded like music to my ears, and I couldn’t help but imagine her moaning and panting it into my ear. This girl was driving me fucking insane, yet she had absolutely no idea.

“No.” I responded simply, unable to stop looking at her lips as I took another step forward, hands moving to rest on her hips. Again, she didn’t move, but now her eyes were on me, like she was unable to look away from me too.

Chapter Seven HERE

[alifeasvivid]

I see you in grems tags.

So i challenge you to detwinkify Arthur, go wild, give the bastard a gut, lord knows he needs the food

Ahh see I would, anon, but one of the hc's I'm more firmly committed to is that Arthur is one of those motherfuckers that could eat and eat and eat and not gain a single pound (and it probably irritates the hell out of him). THAT SAID. I have always disliked twink Arthur (understatement) and I generally try to avoid writing him that way.

For example, in Thief of Spades, I deliberately flipped the typical Alfred and Arthur body types, so Alfred is shorter than Arthur (by a couple cm's/an inch). Arthur's appearance is a little inspired by the "burly detective" trope so I think I describe him as being built like an old-school boxer, whereas Alfred is described as more nimble and slender.

I do have some general ideas about my appearance (unless otherwise specified) headcanons, but here's the short(ish) version: I think of Arthur as someone who has weathered, hands whose knuckles have been broken quite a lot... nose too LOL He's one of those people who when you first meet him, you can't decide if he's handsome or not--he's a bit odd, otherworldly, and possibly unsettling, immensely ancient and young/quite mischievous at the same time; Schrödinger's hotness, if you will--and the only thing that resolves this question is how well and in what way you get to know him.

When he was very young (child-teenage years), he probably looked very odd in a more off-putting way where a lot of people might describe him as homely or even downright weird.

He mostly grew out of it, but not quite and so what you think of him as a person plays a larger role in determing what he actually looks like in your mind: enemies will think of him as more grotesque, friends will see him as vaguely handsome, and lovers will think he's the most beautiful person that ever existed. Relationships being complicated as they are, one person can be all of these things and think all of these things at various times.

Think Brian Froud's faeries. He has a lot of that energy going on.

ahhh I got a bit carried away, quelle surprise, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, ANON >.> I will take up your challenge in that I will write something that more explicitly uses these ideas. There's actually a couple fics I have in progress in which I can turn it up a a few notches so P: my erratic non-existent posting schedule being what it is... you may see them sometime before the year of our lord 2123.