#IT'S RUNNING UP THAT HILL NO FUCKING AWAY EMILY COME HERE

[kindnessisweakness2]

13

Unclipping the helmet on his head, Jax smiled wide at the massive group of people. All the women and children greeting their men home. It felt good to see. This is what kept them grounded. This is what kept them fighting to come home. Family. Kissing his mom on the cheek, he wrapped her in a tight hug. "How's the baby? Does Neeta still have him?" He spoke quietly. He was reluctant to mention Abel. Only the people closest to the club knew about the little boy dumped by his mother just months earlier. He wanted him protected. Distanced. No one could use him as leverage then. He didn't want his son to have a chaotic upbringing. He wanted to give him the stability he never seemed to have. Gemma smirked at her son. "Actually he's here. Where he should be." Jax's stomach dropped. What the fuck did his mom think she was going? Emily didn't know about him. God this was gonna make her run for the fucking hills. Before he could say anything to her, Gemma pointed over by the boxing ring. Turning around his heart nearly jumped into his mouth at the sight. There she was. Emily cradled Abel against her chest as she rocked from side to side, soothing the now wide awake baby. She was talking to Chibs but the care she showed Abel was clear. His head was tucked into her neck as his hand gripped one of her fingers. He was obviously comfortable with her. "He's been with her all day. She had him in his baby sling as he wouldn't let her put him down." Jax's eyes widened at the realisation that she clearly didn't care about his secret son. His mother wouldn't let just anyone take Abel. Without another word Jax made his way over to the woman he couldn't get out of his mind.

Emily laughed as Chibs asked if she had made the food. "Oh no Gemma's been all over that. Ive been kept well away from the kitchen." The disappointment that flashed across his face made her smile. "But if you can forgive me just this once I might drop off a big tray of that Lasagne you loved so much." Chibs blew her a kiss. "You're forgiven love." Emily rolled her eyes at how dramatic he was but she really did love it. It made her feel good how much they liked her. She guessed the saying a way to a man's heart is through his stomach must really be true. She felt Abel start to squirm against her chest. Just as she was about to lift him from the sling she heard his voice. "I'll take him, darlin." Feeling a shiver run down her spine she turned to face the man she missed more than she thought she would. Smiling at him she gently passed Abel over to him. She didn't know how it was possible but the sight of Jax holding a baby made him 10× more attractive. Unclipping the baby sling she placed it onto one of the many tables and grabbed a cold beer for Jax. Opening it she handed it over to him and took a seat on the side of the boxing ring. "Back in one piece as promised. What's my prize?" Jax questioned as he took a seat next to her. Reaching across stroking Abel's cheek Emily grinned at him "What do you want?" Looking up at him Emily felt the noise of everyone else melt away. It's felt like it was only the three of them. "What if I said you?" Jax looked her dead in the eyes as he spoke. He watched her get red and shock cross her face. Emily's heart pounded so hard she thought it was going to jump from her chest. Her? No. Not her. There was so much they hadnt talked about. So much was complicated.

Fuck it was the only thing she could think. She deserved to be happy. And since she met him, Jax genuinely made her happy.

Leaning up till her lips brushed his, Emily threw caution to the wind and kissed him. Jax tightly held Abel with one arm while his other lifted to cup her cheek. Fireworks. As cliche as it sounded that was the only way that Emily could describe it. This. This feeling was what she was missing with Noah. Jax melted into her completely. God, he'd never felt anything like it before. Not even with Tara. She was addictive. He'd never be able to get enough.

Her phone ringing pulled them apart. Still red and flustered she answered the phone as soon as she saw Oswalds number. Worry filled her stomach straight away. "Emily, Zeus has bitten Jake. I need you at the yard now." Emily jumped up grabbing her car keys. "Eliott I swear there's more to this. I trained that dog myself. He's a fucking perfect dog." At the sound of Eliotts name the club boys turned all their attention to Emily. "Well you best come down and see for yourself. He'll have to be destroyed, I can't take the risk." Emily seethed as she paced back and forth. "I'm on my way. No one touches him till I get there. Promise me that atleast."

Once Eliott agreed, Emily started running towards her car. "Em?" Cara shouted in question. "It's Zeus I've got to go!" Without hesitation Jax passed Abel to his mom running to his bike to follow Emily. Before she knew it Emily was speeding out of Teller Morrow, Jax, Chibs, juice and Cara in tow.

[prittyvenus]

My Zombie Queen Emily

🐍🥀🦋Ghost X Corpse Bride One shot🦋🥀🐍

Francesco (Primo) Valentino (Secondo) Alessandro (Terzo) Dante (Nihil) Giovanni (Copia) Rebecca (Sister)

Warning: adult language, suicide, miscarriage, sexual orientation.

“Another rejection, Valentino!” yelled Sister Imperator. “You are about to be 30 soon, and as the oldest of the bloodline, you have to be the first to have a prime mover! Cardinal Francesco has already been chosen to be Papa in your father's place. As the oldest child of Nihil...”

“Oh, shut the fuck up woman!” Valentino lashed out. “You are not my Mother! So, get off my dick!” Valentino takes a flask out of his jacket and drinks from it. “You got rejected by my father after he cheated on you. Heck, I even know that you lost your role as prime mover. You even gave up your son as a result. So why the fuck should I listen to your failed ass.”

Papa Nihil bangs his staff on the floor. “That is enough, Valentino! You shouldn���t argue with Sister when she's talking to you. You already lost your role as Papa Emeritus Primo to Cardinal Francesco, and I told you many times that if you don't fix that attitude soon, you will never be Papa. Look at you now. You haven't learned anything.”

“Shut the hell up, you hypocrite!” Valentino empties his flask. “You can’t say shit after you left my mother to be with Alessandro’s mother. You cheating scumbag! I found out that you slept with my second date! Why should I go through with what you say after what you already did?” The room became dead silent. “I already had enough of this place! I'm leaving the clergy!”

Papa Nihil gets up from his seat as Valentino leaves the room. “Someone, stop him!” Yells Sister Imperator.

Francesco grabbed his arm and took him to the hallway. “What is wrong with you! Are you drunk?” The smell of alcohol leaves Valentino’s breath. “You have been drinking again haven't you?”

“Fuck you, Francesco. You're not my dad!”

“No, but I raised you like you are my own son.” Francesco told Valentino. “I know you better than you know yourself, little brother.” Francesco drags Valentino back to the conference room. “Come let us go and apologize.”

Valentino pulls his arm away from Francesco. “I’m not going! I'm leaving the clergy and that is final!” Alessandro sees his Valentino run from Francesco. He runs to Valentino and tackles him. The Two brothers fought to the ground. Francesco tried to separate the two. Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil watch as Francesco successfully separates the two.

“That is enough from the both of you!” scolded Francesco. “Don’t you both ever think?” The two men look at Francesco. “Alessandro, you should be studying. Why are you here?”

“I heard the rumors from the ghouls that Fratello is leaving the Clergy of sin. I thought I could stop him from leaving.” Valentino turned away from the two and Alessandro tried to tackle him again.

Valentino punches Alessandro to the ground and runs away. Francesco helps Alessandro as Papa Nihil watches sadly as Valentino leaves. “Sister, send out the ghouls. Valentino must be punished.”

Sister Imperator summons shadow ghouls to him. “Find Valentino and bring him home. He must face punishment for his actions.” The shadow ghoul nods takes physical forms and leaves to go find Valentino. Francesco gets help from a ghoul and they take Alessandro to the hospital wing of the Clergy.

Valentino makes it to the Clergy Cemetery. He tripped on a small headstone and dropped his mother’s wedding band on the ground. He watches the ring bounce and roll away down the hill and into the woods. “Oh, fuck!” He gets up and runs after it. The ring rolls next to the root of a dead tree. he picked up the ring and held it close to his chest. Then a strong hand gently hits his shoulder. Valentino turned around and saw four heavy-set ghouls behind him.

“We are here to take you home Master Valentino.” said one of the ghouls.

“Oh, under whom? Rebecca or Francesco?” asked Valentino.

The ghouls look at each other and then back at Valentino. The ghouls grabbed Valentino and tackled him. Valentino accidentally put the ring on the skeleton's hand as he was trying to get away from the ghouls. The hand began to move as two of the ghouls dragged him away to the Clergy. The blasting sound of dirt exploding got two of the ghouls' attention. They see the corpse of a bride moving up and out of a hole. The two ghouls ran and yelled, “I think Master Valentino has summoned something.” The two ghouls holding Valentino see a dead bride moving towards them. “Protect the Master! We can't let her near him!” A ghoul quickly took Valentino over his shoulder and rushed over to the Clergy. They made it inside the Clergy and dropped Valentino off at the head office.

Papa Nihil and Rebecca Imperator are doing paperwork when the ghoul rushes in. “Take your leave. We’ll handle him.” Rebecca told the ghoul. A sister of sin shows up at the main office. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m sorry Sister, but there's a zombie walking around inside the Clergy.”

“Where did it come from?” Rebecca asked the sister of sin.

“Sister!” Nihil points to the corner of the room and sees the bride standing then walking over to Valentino.

Sister yells “Get him out of here! We can not lose the main bloodline to the dead!” The ghoul takes Valentino and brings him to the family mansion.

“Master Francesco, we have some bad news.”

Francesco raised his hand. “I’m already aware of the situation. Alessandro, you...” The doorbell rings. “Who is ringing at this time?” Alessandro looks at the peak hole and sees the corpse standing in front of the door. Alessandro screams loudly and runs away from the door.

“She’s here! She's outside!” Alessandro points to the door.

Francesco looks at Valentino with anger in his eyes. “What did you do?” Valentino was dead silent. “What on earth did you summon here?”

“I don't know!” Yells Valentino. “I dropped my mother's ring and lost it while I was fighting with the ghouls under the dead oak tree.” The doorknob began to move and the doorbell began to ring.

Alessandro's jaw dropped. “You mean the dead oak tree in the woods outside of the Clergy.”

“You know something about it?” asked Francesco. One of the servants came to the door and opened it. “Wait, don't open the door!” The bride walks in and crows and ravens surround her. Valentino ducks as the blackbirds surround him. He looks up at the bride with his back on the steps.

The bride leans on Valentino. “You may kiss the bride.” She said as they vanished leaving behind black feathers in the main hall.

Valentino awakens to the sound of a woman’s voice. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re awake.” She smiled and softly stoked Valentino’s face.

Valentino’s eyes widen with fright. He screams as he crawls backward to the wall. “Who are you? Where am I?” He looks around the room. “Where are my brothers?”

“Your brothers?” The bride looks at the body-less waiter. “Your brothers are not here.” She told Valentino. “You came to me and placed the ring on my finger.” She shows her left hand revealing his mother's wedding band.

“My mother's ring!” He runs to her and falls flat on his face when she moves out of the way. “That ring was my mother's before she died.” He remembers his mother climbing the window. “That ring is all I have left of her.” He sees her fall from the window and lands dead from the four stories. “She’s all I have left.” He tears up with the memories of his mother.

The waiter and the bride look at each other. “Who is your mother? Maybe we might find her.” The bride suggested.

“Don’t you get it! She's dead! She's no longer here!” Yells Valentino.

“But monsieur, this is the realm of the dead. If she is dead, you can find her here.”

Valentino looks at the waiter. “What did you just say?”

“This is the realm of the dead, sir.” Repeated the waiter.

Valentino got up and rushed out the door. He got to the main street and saw walking corpses and skeletons going about their day as if they were alive. He slowly looks around seeing if he can find her.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you from the realm of the living?” He looks around trying to find out where the sound is coming from. “Down here.” Valentino looks down and sees a very short skeleton general. “So, are you from the realm of the living?”

“Yes, I’m Valentino Emeritus.” Valentino answers.

“Emeritus? That family is in charge of the lower Quarter. Off the pier near the lake of the dead.”

Valentino smiles. “Do you know how I can get there?”

The general points to the stairs down the alley. “Go up those steps and you reach the Outlook Park. If you look to the far right of the park you'll find the pier.” The general beacons Valentino to move closer to him. “But be warned. They are demons and ghouls in that area of town.”

“Thank you. I will keep that in mind.” Valentino goes to the alleyway.

The bride walks to greet the general. “Oh, hello my dear Emily. What is it that you need?”

“I’m looking for my husband. He's from the realm of the living.” Emily told the general.

“You mean, Valentino Emeritus?” He points to the stairs down the alleyway. “He’s heading to the lake pier. If you can meet him at the park you might stop him from going there.”

“Thank You, Napoleon.” She kisses his forehead and walks down the alley.

Valentino zig-zags the alley corners and steps to find the park that overlooks the realm of the dead. As soon as he leans down the railing a cold skeleton hand touches his hand. “Ah!” he jumped away and the bride, Emily was standing in front of him.

“Valentino, you can't just disappear like that.” She smiles and looks at the scenery. “Look at this place. It takes my breath away. Well if I had any.” she giggled.

“You’re not very convincing.” Valentino scolded. “What do you want? Why are you following me?” Valentino asked Emily.

“I’m Emily, your wife. I have to be by your side.” She goes over to the bench and sits down.

He looks down on her. “You’re not answering my question.”

“I know, Valentino.” She smiles at him. Emily taps the bench signaling him to sit down next to her. He heavily signs and sits next to Emily. “You know you never gave me your mother's name. Besides the fact that she's an Emeritus.”

“She’s Olivia. She died jumping out the window of our villa in the clergy.” Emily covered her mouth. “She was a kind and lovely woman. I saw her jump out the window to her death.” He lowers his head and tears up again. Emily leans over to Valentino and comforts him. “I couldn't stop her. She died because I failed her.” Emily brings Valentino closer to her. He grabs her waist and cries loudly. “It was my fault! I wasn't strong enough to stop her!” Emily looks defeated and helplessly comforts Valentino.

A shadow looms over the couple and speaks. “No, my son. It was I who was not strong enough.” Valentino looks behind him and sees a rotting nun with a skeleton baby in her arms.

“Mother!” He gets up and hugs the nun then slowly gets back as the skeleton baby begins to cry.

“Valentino this is your sister, Emma. I lost her from the miscarriage. Remember?”

A memory of his mother crying in the bathroom as Rebecca smiles at Olivia's loss. “oh, yeah. I remember Sister was smiling when you miscarried.” Valentino clutches his fist. “She was an awful woman. She is going to pay for what she did.”

“No, son. That's in the past right now. We need to head home so we can celebrate your marriage.”

“My marriage?” He looks behind him and sees Emily waving. “You planned this, didn't you?”

“In the realm of the dead. You can't hide things here.” Olivia told Valentino. “Sister will get what is coming to her. Mark my words, son. If karma doesn't get Rebecca, then it will come after her child.”

“Oh, I get it. An eye for an eye.” Valentino smiles.

“So, when did my baby become such a mess.” Olivia fixes his tie.

“Mother please.” He looks behind him seeing Emily giggling.

“Oh, hello Emily.” Emily gets up and Olivia kisses her on both cheeks. “I can’t believe my son went far to marry you.” Emily shows off her wedding band. “This is my…”

“I couldn’t let Sister Rebecca have her way with the ring. So, I kept it with me until I found someone to give it to.” He explained.

Olivia smiles at him. “My son I’m so proud of you. Well, except for the fact you were drunk when you got married.”

“Mother!” He blushed.

“I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior, Emily.” Olivia holds out her hand.

“It’s fine, Sister Olivia.” She takes Olivia's hand and goes to Valentino's side.

They go down the steps near the edge of the park and head down another alleyway to the east side of a lake. Valentino sees a mountain with a large triangular hole in the center of the mountain. He sees mist forming around a small wooden boat with a cloaked figure on it. Valentino sees the boat move the pier and pick up a man holding a ball that is chained to his leg. The shadows blocked the man from going back to the pier as the wooden boat moved to the hole in the mountain.

“That’s the river, Styx.” Olivia told Valentino as she pointed at the hole. “It’s where the underworld is linked with the pits of hell. Only the most dangerous can go to the pits. The rest are sorted out by their sins.” Olivia sighed. “They are lucky enough to have a decent life sentence.”

Olivia, Valentino, and Emily made it to the pier and meets and old ghoul at the entrance. “The old ghoul looks up at Valentino. “Oh, my goodness. A mortal in the underpass? Sister Olivia, what is the meaning of this? He is not supposed to be dead yet!”

Emily reached to Valentino’s side. “Excuse me? He is my husband.” She told the ghoul.

“No offense, but this is a violation I can’t not let you pass through. You must speak with the elder papas in the church.” The ghoul told Valentino.

“I’m not going down the river. I just want to enter the town.” Valentino told the ghoul. “I won’t go down until I’m dead.”

The old ghoul pulled a lever bringing down the gate to the lakeside town. A bell rang on the side pier by itself. “Ah, new arrivals.” The ghoul sends a message by letter and sends it up a pipe. A letter was sent back to the ghoul and he carefully read it. “Oh, fiddles sticks.” The ghoul shakes his head.

Emily pulls Valentino by the arm. “Come on dear.” They enter the town. And walk up to a cathedral size church with a upside-down cross with a G in the center of the cross.

They heard some singing coming from the inside of the church. As the open the doors the singing stopped and whispered began to erupt. “Why have you stopped?” Yelled a skeleton pope. When the pope looked behind him he sees Sister Olivia going down the aisle with Valentino and Emily. “Why is there a mortal here? Those of flesh and blood are not allowed in this realm. Sister, did you bring him here?”

“No, Papa Emeritus Eternity .” Sister Olivia answered. “He is married to Emily. She is our in-law.”

“But how? Olivia, explain this to me!” Yelled Papa Eternity. Emily explained what happened in the woods and how he was dragged to the realm of the dead. “A corpse can’t marry a mortal. There needs to be a special ritual for it!”

“But, papa!” Emily tried to explain.

“Was there a wedding for the both of you? Was there a mass or ritual for your summoning, Emily?” Emily stood quietly. “No? Then he must return to the world of the living. The marriage is flawed. It will not work.” He turned his back on them.

“Papa, please try to understand.” Emily got on her hands and knees begging for his approval.

“Emily!” He looks down on her. “Death has already taken you. He is still alive and well. He has to return to the mortal realm.” A child with a missing eye came to him with a black staff engraved in silver with an clergy symbol. Papa Eternity banged the tip of his staff on the floor and a fog of mist appeared over the top of the altar.

Francesco was adjusting his red papal ropes in the mirror. “Little brother, I understand that something did happen in the woods. But there’s no evidence or body that can prove anything.” Francesco turned to Alessandro and gently placed his hand on his shoulder. “Your half-brother is in the realm of the dead. When I become papa, I will bring him back home.”

Images of Alessandro was arguing with Francesco appeared in the mist. “Listen to me, fratello. The corpse in the woods is no rumor. There was a murder that happened in the woods.”

“But It will be too late by then. You got around six days, brother! The full moon will rise and he will be trapped inside the realm of the dead for life.”

Papa Eternity looks at Emily. “His brothers are looking for him. You and only you alone can return him, Emily.”

“But, why me?” Emily asked Papa Eternity.

“Because you dragged a man out of his realm with out permission, and then forced him to be your husband with out a wedding.”

“But, he gave me his mother’s wedding band.” She shows the ring.

“That doesn’t count, my dear. If I remember correctly, It’s supposed to be ‘until death due us part’, Emily. He has to go. I told you this before, Death has already taken you.” He banged the end of the staff. “The marriage is invalid. Take him home.”

Emily cried as Papa walked away. The ghouls grabbed Valentino and separated him from the rest of the crowd. They took him to a abandoned bedroom and locked the door. When Valentino looked outside the window he saw that he was in the realm of the living.

“You are lucky that we can travel through both worlds, Master Valentino.” Called out a ghoul from behind the door.

“Alpha, you knew?” Yelled Valentino.

“You, being dragged into another realm? Yeah, we knew.” Valentino stood silently. “That girl, Emily. She was not supposed to be a prime mover.”

“I see.” Valentino clutched his fist.

“Master? I have something to tell you about Emily.” A deeper voice called out.

“What is it Omega?”

“Emily is Rebecca’s younger sister. Papa cheated on Rebecca Imperator with her younger sister. She murdered her own flesh and blood because of Master Dante’s, I mean Papa Nihil’s infidelity. Sister disposed of her body under the oak tree in the woods. She is left there in an unmarked grave.”

“So, how long will I have to stay here.” Asked Valentino.

“Until Sister Imperator says that you can be released.” Said Alpha.

Emily transport to the realm of the living and rushed over to the Clergy. She called out for Valentino in the garden. The ghouls almost noticed her but ignore it. She whisper his name as she goes around the Clergy trying not to get caught. She soon reached an old building guarded by two ghouls. She goes closer to the building and she hears a man singing. She goes around the windows to see if she can find who is singing. She finally finds Valentino as he was singing himself to sleep on a patted mattress next to the window.

“Valentino?” She whispered. He opened his eyes and gets up. He looks around and gets spooked as he sees Emily worried from the window. “What happened to you?” She gently caresses his cheek. “You disappeared from us. We were worried sick.” Valentino told her what the ghouls told him. Emily covered her mouth in shock. “Rebecca? Why?” Valentino looks stern at her as her shock turned to rage. “That two timing bastard! They regret what they did to me. Rebecca is going to pay.”

Foot steps echo loudly through the hall and Emily hid by ducking under the window. A small nervous voice. “Hello, Alpha. I’m here to deliver food for cardinal Valentino.” The opens and a teenage boy dress in a white gown. Enters the room with a tray of food and a pack of cigarettes. “Hello, Cardinal. I brought some food.” He lifted up the tray.

“Thank you, brother Giovanni. Leave it on the table but pass me the cigarettes.” Giovanni nods his head and puts the food on the table and a past him the pack of cigarettes.

A small rat shows up on the table and tried to get a nibble of Valentino’s food. “No little Rosa! That's not for you!” Giovanni grabs the rat and puts it in his pocket. “I’m so sorry cardinal.”

“Get that filthy rodent out of here!” Yells Valentino. Giovanni holds the rat from his pocket and leaves the room. Emily gets up and looks around the room. They hear the door locked from outside the room.

“Fuck off, Sister. I know what you want.” Snarled Valentino. “I know the truth of what you did.”

“Valentino, are you going to be okay?” Asked Emily.

“Don’t worry about me. This is not my first punishment.” Answered Valentino. Valentino leans his hand on the window sill. Emily takes it and holds it close to her face. He soon caresses her soft cold face.

Emily sheds a tear. “You’re so warm.” She hears footsteps coming from the corner and runs to hide in the bushes.

A flame ghoul look around and sees Valentino leaning on the window sill with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Hello, Master. Have you seen anything strange around here?”

Valentino takes the cigarette out of his mouth. “No.”

“I see.” The flame ghoul looks around and sees nothing but a baby rabbit coming out of the bushes. Valentino puts the cigarette back in his mouth. “Let me get that for you master.” He lites his thumb like a lighter and lit Valentino’s cigarette. “Sorry to bother you. I'm going to continue my rounds.” The ghoul leaves to the other side of the building.

“You can come out now. He's gone.” Emily gets up and looks around. She rushed back to Valentino’s side.

“There must be a way to get back at them.” She told Valentino.

Valentino eye widen with an idea. “Emily!” He whispered into her ear. She gasps and holds her hand up to her mouth. “I know it's crazy but only you can pull it off. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes, I'm in.” She seriously answers him.

He gently caresses her cheeks and pulls her in for a kiss. “Thank you, my dear.”

Emily smiles and looks around. “I’ll be nearby if anything changes.”

She ran into the abandoned garden and hid herself there. Valentino goes over to the table and ate his food. He looks out the window biting his time.

3 days went by and a female voice called out his name from the door. “So, have you learned your lesson, Valentino?”

“I don’t even know what you mean. Open the door.” The ghouls unlocked the door and opened it. Papa Nihil and Rebecca went inside the room and the ghouls closed the door.

“What the hell do you want old man?” Valentino asked.

“Tomorrow is your brother’s coronation day and Francesco wants you to be there at the ceremony.” Papa Nihil looks at Rebecca. “Sister and I are considering shortening your sentence. If you make a formal apology to the clergy for what you did.”

“Fuck you, old man!” Valentino yelled. “I will never apologize! I’m not your prisoner, I am not your puppet for you to master! I know what you are Sister Rebecca Imperator! You are the monster that is willing to shed blood of your own flesh and blood, so you can have a seat of power in the Clergy as prime mover!”

Nihil gasped and looks at Rebecca. She stood still with no expression on her face. “Sister, is it true?”

“The dead knew everything of what is happening in the realm of the living. Old man, she killed her own sister to be with you. She has gone that far and will do it again, if she has to.”

Rebecca spoke up to Valentino. “And with what Proof do you have of this ridiculous story of yours?”

Valentino smiles at them. “Hello Emily, My dear.”

Rebecca and Nihil hears a loud breath of behind them. They look around and see Emily pissed from behind them. “Hopscotch” she whispered as she pulled Nihil. Rebecca tried to stop her but Valentino grabbed Rebecca before she could get Nihil. Rebecca screamed and cried when Emily took Nihil to the realm of the dead. The two ghouls opened the door and sees the room filled with black feathers and Rebecca a crying mess.

Alpha and Omega asked “What happened here?” Valentino let’s go of Rebecca and she viciously attacked him.

“You did this to him!” She yelled as she was punching him down. “This is all your fault!”

The ghouls dragged her off of Valentino. “That’s enough Sister!” Yelled Alpha. “It will not bring him back.” They dragged her out of the room as she continued to cry and scream.

Francesco appeared at the doorway completely confused. “What on Earth did I miss?”

Alessandro peeked into the room and sees Valentino beaten up. “What happened to you? Did the bride beat the shit out of you?”

Valentino sticks up his middle finger. “Fuck you, little brother.” Valentino brushes off the feathers from his body.

Francesco asked Valentino. “What happened here?” He looks at the floor of feathers. Valentino explains everything about his adventure and how he discovered the bride’s true identity. “So let me get this straight, the bride Emily is Sister Rebecca’s little sister, and she was murdered by Rebecca, all because of Papa was two-timing them!”

Alessandro thinks for a moment then burst out laughing. “Oh, shit!” He laughs hard till his stomach hurts. “Holy shit!” He can’t stop laughing.

Francisco grabbed Alessandro by his collar and pulled him out of the room. “That is not a funny joke, you are going back to studying.”

Valentino left the room and looked back. “Thanks, Emily. I will send you flowers to your grave.” He stretched his arms out and walked away. Several Days later, Papa Nihil returned alive but Sister was not in the clergy when he got back. She was released from her duties by the Director and was discharged from the Clergy. Many years passed and Valentino was in the woods under the oak tree. He kneeled and placed white flowers on a headstone reading “Emily Imperator Emeritus” he smiles and looks down on the dirt near the root and something shiny. He digs it up and finds his mother’s ring on the finger of a skeleton hand. He smiled and cried as he covered up the hand with the ring. “Forgive me, my dear. Next time we meet we will have a proper wedding.” He looks at the headstone. “I can promise you that.”

Omega shows up behind Valentino. “Master? It’s almost time for your coronation of becoming papa.”

He turned to Omega. “Thank you Omega. I’m on my way.” He looks back at the headstone. “Root for me, my dear. I’m going to be Papa Emeritus Secondo today. I just wish that you were here to see this moment.” A small blue butterfly landed on his hand. He looks at it fluttering around Valentino then flying away from sight. He smiles as he walks away with Omega to the Clergy. As he was alone getting his makeup ready in front of the mirror. Papa Eternity appeared behind him with the silver staff. As Valentino jumped up and looked behind him, Papa Eternity was gone and the staff remained. Valentino took the staff and made a short prayer to Papa Eternity. He finally finished his makeup and takes the staff with him to become the Papa Emeritus Secondo.

Fin.

[squeiky]

Love it (sarcasm) when nightmares make an entire set up and lore and characters just to fucking spook me.

Y’all having dreams about being chased and unable to move- while I have dreams of being chased AND being able to move. It is not fun!!! I am a mouses fucking labyrinth!!

I was in this game based off of little nightmares (apparently) and I knew there was this kid (similar to the two boys in over the hill) where one was short and the other tall- and they were sooo determined to get away and be “free” from this prison that all the other children where. So they had this whole battle in trying to steal away the keys, dodging blue berries (like in that little nightmares kitchen scene) and doing platforming (because this is videogame esc)

And then out of nowhere!!! I end up becoming this golden child girlie (based off of I think Emily or Cassidy from fnaf? But she’s got the personality of a little scared yet polite girl and looks similar to that princess in the fnaf sb arcade ish game) then there’s this ice queen, (she reminds me of the fake mother from Coraline the movie) and she’s talking and playing with absent minded or flat out scared to disobey children group (that hadn’t left in rebellion) and she’s all like

“Your going to die, your going to be stuck here, and you (points to the golden girl) are going to GIVE ME THE KEY.”

And that wasn’t a command. It was a future prediction. And I KNEW she was right which scared me because it was fate shit. I knew for a fact, hearing her say that- that she would gain the “key”. (Again, just like in Coraline this key apparently would give her freedom from this nightmarish domain and she could do.. idk whatever she was going to do.)

Then, st some point golden girl starts walking off and gets further and further into the dark untill she found a giant dark door with a keyhole. She opens it, goes inside and carefully tries to lock the door again.

Then idk checks her game specs (this is first person now! This is still a videogame dream.)

Then I look out and see vibrant blue blueberries illuminating in what feels like an almost pitch black cave (this is a maze) and then suddenly there’s knocking on the door-then banging.

And I start to run towards the blueberries- and it gives me a infographic on the side of first person view telling me to “eat/collect” the blueberries.

Apparently I need to collect all the big blue blueberries a (they are the size of the kid itself) turns out, the banging was coming from this ice monster that was all spindly and has like needles for feet and legs and had bits of vibrant glowing blue so you could see where it was in the dark.

It was so fast and I barely could survive. I ended up dashing around randomly trying to loose the creature but it wouldn’t loose. I didn’t even know where I was going untill I found myself outside of a this dark grey castle, only to see the rest of the grey sky. I couldn’t stop there though. I collect blueberries (it doesn’t take long to collect. You have to stay still for a single second and wait until the little circle thing completes.. but it’s very quick but slow enough to scare you due to the creatures speed.)

And like the only thing that saved me from the creature was “turning off the game” via my little tablet I had. Like I randomly she had to swipe out of the game tab- in my tablet in order to respawn and stop everything.

I woke up after opening it up again and getting to scared to play again (because the monster didn’t respawn it just relocated underneath part of the castle and I was easy to spot and out in the open so I knew it would chase me again.

I swear to god there is just so much stuff- like Freddy fazbear was here at one point), soley because I thought of Freddy fazbear and him being all nice and stuff only to go bezerk because of afton and I was just watching him violently trying to kill me through the prison like bars- as well as a scene of him breaking down a door and jump scaring me. But also he’s all like “I don’t in own what I did that sorry 🥺” at the end of it all.

Then earlier on in the dream apparently i was ins chill again- and it’s hard to explain because I can barely remember it- but apperently at some point in the dream I was “shadow the hedgehog” and my friend was this red and black cat similar to the one I screenshot end once off of deviant art.

Though we constantly swapped between being sonic characters and being their human equivalent counterparts. My counterpart was.. not very pretty lol. Apparently “human counterpart” meant like teenage kid who wears a grey sweater to hide the fact that I am indeed, a fuzzy guy all over my very human body. So much little hairs. It was weird. I showed my friend by revealing the truth underneath my sweater (in which the also had worn something, but it was a nice black furry coat that was a little big for them.

I think after that something about the principal came up on the speakers about the vice principal and the principal not being able to attend or not come into school frequently anymore

And I was like “ah long covid/covid” and then suddenly the very sick principal enters the room and starts looking for “shadow the hedgehog” (this is the point where we turn into our sonic character counterparts. Almost everybody around us turns into one too. I think there was a polar bear there) and she starts like lining people up and out of the lunch table seats (lunch room in the size of a classroom. I thought it was a classroom cause there was a teacher but my mind is classifying it as “lunch room” right now.)

And is like “which one of you is shadow the hedgehog?” And I’m just staring at my friend (who is now the black and red cat) and I’m sweating balls. I don’t know what this woman wants with me- and I’m wearing this white mask on so she can’t truly identify me that well.

She looks to my red and black friend and just.. decides she’s me??? And then he just.. goes along with it????????? And once they return I’m all like “thank youuuuuuu soooo much!!!”

I guess I was scared of the principal doing something weird to me (like my principal- from what I can remember was a very strange who tries to be strict but everybody fucks with her. she’s more like an angry woman who wants to be authoritarian. Idk I think she was going to take me somewhere or something- possible to the office? Though at the time I didn’t know so the idea she needed me scared me enough.)

Anyways that dream ended quick in order to make way for my second dream, which I already wrote above.

I don’t remember much of my school dream other than flat white blocks to make up fences and white walls, and apparently that’s how the school looked like. It was like some modern day art or a labyrinth of white blocks and white walls. The only color came in forms of gray.

[this is the end. Here’s a disclaimer: this is a dream. I’m not writing out a story idea or your characters. If anything sound familiar to you- then it’s your brain making connections. Nothing to do with any intent on my part. Remember the words: “THIS IS A DREAM”. I’m just writing down what I recall from it. ]

[myriadof-fandoms]

episode 4

mimi watches season 4 - episode 1

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Tumble

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @realtrashcan

Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt(s): 9 “You are very attractive. Therefore, I will stare at you.”, 10 Falling asleep/cuddling on the jet, and 19 “You’re an idiot.” “But I’m your idiot.”

Summary: you fall down a hill, but luckily, Aaron still thinks you’re beautiful.

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of blood, lots of fluff

A/N: sweet sweet fluff. i wanted to write something a little more case-centered, but still cute for this one. enjoy !! 

Masterlist

---

All things considered, the case was a success. However, part of what made it such a success was the slight tumble you took down a hill. Whatever it takes, right?

To be fair, you hadn’t planned on tumbling down a muddy hill while pursuing an unsub, but these things just seem to happen. The case had taken the team to the Sierra Nevada mountains that border California and Nevada, as the unsub, Trevor Northridge, kept crossing state lines with his…activities. Activities that involved 12 year old Caleb Kingston, who was now safe, and had told you the location where the unsub had taken him.

The team had tracked Northridge to a specific trail on the California side of the Sierras, and you had caught him exiting his car. That was, of course, when he decided to take off into the forest. Shaking your head, you share a look with Derek before pursuing the unsub.

“You’ll never catch me!” Northridge screams over his shoulder.

As if.

“He took off, Hotch,” Derek’s voice filters through your comms. “Your lovely girlfriend and I are chasing him down.”

Even though the only thing you can see is his back as you run through the underbrush, ducking to miss branches and stepping over shrubs, you just know Derek is smirking.

How Morgan has the ability to be snarky while literally sprinting after a murderer is beyond you, but nevertheless, appreciated.

“We’ll cut him off further up the trail, just don’t let him get away,” Aaron says sternly.

“Obviously,” you can’t help but mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes.

You can just imagine the frown that Aaron has right now.

Northridge takes a hard turn to the right, up some steep hillside, and you barely keep up with him.

Damn him and his knowledge of these mountains.

You pass Derek and vaguely hear his voice through your comms as he notifies the team. However, you keep going, trying to track Northridge as he weaves between trees and over rocks.

How the hell does he know where to go?

Breaking the top of the hill, you can see Prentiss and JJ up ahead on the new trail—thank God—weapons drawn and ready to take him into custody, with Dave, Spence, and Aaron not too far behind them, holding steady.

Just a little further, now.

And that’s when Northridge comes to a sudden stop, in the middle of the trail. Given your close proximity to him and the speed at which you were climbing, you do your best not to run him right over, and instead, try to swing left and take him down. The only thing, is that to his (and your) left is the hillside you just scaled.

Fucking great.

You miscalculate your next few steps, and end up just a touch more left than you wanted, which sends you stumbling and then tripping and then rolling down the side of the trail with a short yelp.

Back to the beginning.

The world passes by in a stinging green and brown blur as you make your way to the base of the hill in a crumpled heap. Ouch. With a huff, you lay still for a second, letting your mind catch up with your body that now resides at the bottom of the hill. Sitting up and catching your breath, you pull a few twigs from where they’ve lodged in your clothes and hair before looking up to the top of the hill.

Well, shit.

Running a (muddy) hand over your face, you begin your trek upwards. Again.

About halfway to the top, you can see Derek and Aaron looking over the edge, worriedly calling your name.

You pause and really assess how you feel, making note of the bumps and bruises you acquired on your trip downwards.

“I’m fine!” you shout up at them, voice hoarse. “I’ll live,” you say with a slight groan.

Of all the team members this would happen to…

Looking up at the task ahead of you, you take a deep breath before grabbing ahold of a nearby tree root and pulling yourself up. Hand over hand, you continue your way upwards, stopping occasionally to catch your breath and curse Trevor Northridge. Nearing the top, hands appear above you, and you gratefully reach for them, allowing Aaron and Derek to pull you to the top.

Slumping to the ground, feet still dangling over the edge, you lay in the dirt for a moment, closing your eyes and letting Aaron pass a hand carefully over your back and sink into your hair before you roll over and face the sky.

“Sweetheart?” you can hear the apprehension in Aaron’s voice.

Oh you sweet, sweet man.

“You got him, right?” you pant, eyes closing for a slow moment. “Please tell me you got him.”

Hotch huffs a laugh at your question, running his fingers through your hair and over your cheeks before standing upright, and you watch as he readjusts himself into being BAU Unit Chief after reaffirming that you’re fine.

“You’re an idiot,” comes his reply with a fond shake of his head.

“But I’m your idiot,” you say hopefully, sending him a cheeky smile.

With another shake of his head, you let your eyes fall shut for a longer period of time, reveling in the first actual moments of tranquility you’ve had since the case started.

You hear footsteps retreating, and you know that Aaron has gone back to check on Northridge, who is hopefully in custody by now.

Taking another moment to collect yourself, you refocus on the mission at hand before letting Morgan and Spencer to pull you to your feet. Spence immediately starts brushing stray leaves and forest debris from your person, as you zero in on Northridge in the back of the cop car that’s on site. Walking over, you cock your head at him before smirking.

“Got you,” you say, as he stares straight ahead, jaw clenched.

Turning back to the team, you can’t help but shoot them a tired smile.

“Anyone else ready to head home?”

“Hell yeah, Princess,” Derek responds, and you can’t help but shoot him a tired smile.

---

On the jet, you land heavily in your seat, tipping your head back against the headrest and taking a deep breath.

“That is the last time I chase an unsub,” you sigh. “Prentiss and JJ? You’re up next.”

The team laughs in response, and you shoot an amused look over at Emily, who playfully rolls her eyes.

A body lands next to you, and you know it’s Aaron; you can almost see the concerned look on his face before you even glance at him.

“You have leaves in your hair,” his voice reaches you, serious as always, before you feel his careful hands extracting whatever else has caught in your hair.

“Thanks, Aaron,” you say quietly, gently.

His hands still, coming to rest on both sides of your face, and you can’t help but turn and look at him.

The look on Aaron’s face can best be described as pensive, bordering on caring, as you stare into his eyes and try to let him know you’re okay. Leaning forwards, you let your lips rest against his in a soft kiss. 

I’m okay. I’m here. A little banged up, but I’m alive.

You pull back and scrunch your face up at him, feeling the blood from some cut on your forehead drip further down your forehead.

Ugh.

That doesn’t seem to hinder Aaron’s adoring looks as he gently swipes mud from your cheekbone.

“You liking the show, Hotchner?” you quip, lips brushing his with each word.

“You are very attractive,” he says in a low voice.

You scoff, pulling back and rolling your eyes.

“Therefore, I will stare at you,” he continues, a soft look on his face.

You allow yourself to smile—well, smirk, really—before responding.

“Even with shit in my hair and mud on my face?”

“Especially then, Sweetheart,” he answers with a small smile.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have both, my Love” you say before leaning your head against his shoulder with an exhale.

With a sigh of his own, Aaron takes one of your hands before bringing it to his face and kissing your knuckles while leaning his head against yours.

“Lucky for me indeed,” he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Closing your eyes, you let your body finally relax into the comfort of your boyfriend, moving yourself closer to him.

“I’m happy we caught him,” you whisper softly, lips brushing his shoulder as you speak.

“Me too, Sweetheart,” Aaron responds, shifting so one of his arms can rest around your shoulders and pull you further into his body.

You hum in response, sinking further into Aaron’s suit jacket.

“I love you,” you mumble, consciousness slipping away as the jet takes off.

“I love you more,” Aaron states, the certainty in his voice comforting you as you fall asleep.

With one final deep breath, you allow your full weight to fall into Aaron’s side. A weight he easily—and happily—accommodates.

Tumbling down a hill will always be worth it, as long as you can end the day in the arms of the one you love.

--- Taglist (dm to be added): @hotch-meeeeeuppppp  @averyhotchner @prentisswrites @mylovelysnowflake @hqtchner @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @emlynblack @clarawatson @andromedasstarship @madamsnape921 @mac99martin @midsummernightdream @itsmytimetoodream @homoose @whosscruffylooking @agentaaronhotass

[bentforkent]

CAMP FIREFLY - chapter one

word count: 4,210

content warnings: brief joking mention of child death

read on ao3 / read on wattpad (coming soon too lazy to upload there rn lol) / previous part / next part

Emily wakes up on the first day of camp feeling like someone is sitting on her chest. It’s the same atmosphere as usual; her head rises from the same old flat pillow to the same old bunk above her. It’s the same atmosphere, sure, but today feels fundamentally different, for it’s the first time she’ll be interacting with real campers. Children. A gaggle of young folk coming to her every day for instruction or nurturing or a hand with the hot-glue stick. She’s been trained for this, of course, but what if she messes up a craft? What if she accidentally says “fuck”?

Wide awake, JJ and Penelope are up and bouncing around the cabin cheerily by the time Emily wiggles her toes and comes to from Dreamland. Emily had only awoken in the first place because the early-rising pair tuned the radio to something upbeat and relatively staticless, cranking up the volume. Emily would’ve considered that very rude had she not already slept in for an extra hour, and had she not been greeted with incredible excitement once her eyes popped open.

“She’s awake!” JJ cheered, Penelope replying with a soft good morning!. Emily took her time pulling her body from the mattress, and now sits still-groggy on the floor by her bunk, trying to do her makeup in a tiny, fogged compact mirror. Penelope is standing behind JJ, braiding bright purple ribbons into her hair.

It’s so early it’s still dark outside, so the three of them are illuminated by a sorta-eerie yellow light, an old light bulb wired smack in the center of the cabin. Penelope’s bags are packed by the door, and when Emily notices them, she feels a pang of sadness upon remembering that Penelope will be moving out to her own cabin with her own group of campers today. Emily will get to stay with JJ, which she thinks is quite nice, because the only other option was a single room all the way over by Rossi’s office all by herself. And she’s finding that she quite likes spending time with JJ and Penelope, so newfound solitude would be a drag.

The bunch have spent their past week in training--learning the lay of the land through semi-degraded VHS tapes of Rossi when he was young and sprightly still, walking through the camp and delivering very specific instructions on how to deal with very specific situations. Penelope was in charge of teaching the fun stuff---chants and traditions and how to make friendship bracelets.

On a particularly sweaty, boring training day, Emily pulled Aaron aside--away from the group who was watching an old-Rossi-video about the lake just behind the camp--and asked him if everything was always like this. Emily wasn’t entirely sure what the “this” was, whether she meant peppy or hot or musty or involved, but Aaron had nodded his head sympathetically and walked Emily back to her seat with a whispered, “You’ll get used to it.” Emily was only a tiny bit aware of Penelope’s eyes fixated on her as she slumped back down in the sticky plastic seat and focused back on Rossi-with-hair explaining the stupid history of the stupid lake.

And used to it she got. Spencer, too.

Turns out he shared the same sentiment as Emily--the, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, but I don’t hate it,” sentiment, as they’d so concisely dubbed it, when they sat together in the back of the big room training was taking place in, gossiping and giggling as Rossi, real Rossi --- old Rossi --- stood in front of the small group and explained yet another probably-self-explanatory camp rule.

For as much training as it feels like they participate in --- or sit through, rather --- Spencer still wakes up on the first day of Real Camp so stressed out he checks for gray hairs in the mirror.

It turns out that you can sit through a series of convoluted VHS tapes and Penelope-lessons and still not know a thing about what you’re supposed to be doing. It also turns out that while Camp Firefly is clearly very loved, it’s not the most...efficient summer camp of the area. Or the most safe. Or staffed. Or large. In fact, Spencer marvels at the fact people even send their kids here to stay. It’s not that the camp is poorly run or anything (to imply that would be to question the abilities of him and his friends, Spencer acknowledges), but there’s got to be better options, is the point.

Besides the small handful of counselors Spencer had become close with, the staff only consists of a trio of kitchen staff, one (one!) lifeguard, and a male nurse that Spencer had spoken to once and left the conversation supremely uneasy at the poor guy giving any medical advice. Spencer made a mental note to try his hardest to not have any health issues during his time here.

The kitchen staff are older---like, appear-in-the-old-training-videos older, but they entertain the rest of the newer, younger staff with stories of their youth. The nature of Camp Firefly means that they have stories about Spencer’s friends, too, as the majority of them have been going to the camp every summer since they were children, aging up into their jobs as counselors.

Spencer hears about the time an elementary-aged Derek begged to help serve food to the other campers just because, and about the time Penelope and JJ (when the story is told, they call her Jennifer) passed a petition calling for Rossi’s retirement around the whole camp, just because he cancelled the Talent Show. (The petition turned up only 4 signatures, and the Talent Show is no longer a Camp Firefly tradition).

It’s awe-inducing to Spencer that these people around him have lived whole lives in these dingy cabins. They’ve known each other for ages, built relationships and traditions and memories and stories, all because their parents chose the cheapest sleepaway camp option.

Spencer wonders how different his life would have turned out if he’d been indoctrinated into Summer Camp Culture in his youth, whether he’d even be at Camp Firefly now. Probably not. Definitely not.

Everyone is hanging out around Rossi’s office when the first bus arrives, lounging against the walls and picking at their cuticles. The sun is meandering its way over the horizon finally, but it still feels impossibly early. The group wears bright orange Camp Firefly t-shirts that are meant to be matching, but budget things mean that some of the shirts are more worn---Aaron’s has the sleeves cut off, and the logo is largely rubbed off of JJ’s---and some are brand new.

The crackling of the bus’ tires signals it’s presence before the vehicle peeks over the hill, and when it’s finally in everyone’s line of vision, it’s like a switch flips. They’re hooting and hollering, jumping and dancing in the name of welcoming this bus. Spencer has a wild grin on his face, and when he meets Emily’s eyes, they share a look of fondness and excitement.

After the first bus arrives, the day goes by as quickly as a montage--a cluster of quickly moving vignettes.

Spencer watches as a young girl stares up at Derek, eyes wide and full of wonder. He’s lifting her--and three other girls’--duffle bags with ease, muscles flexing and shiny with sweat. Same, Spencer thinks, realizing his expression is most likely the same as the girl’s. Derek flashes him a quick, hot smile, and Spencer grins in return.

Emily executes her first craft--a cluster of glitter and string and construction paper--flawlessly. Each group introduces themselves to her with a chorus of “hi Emily,” and it warms her heart more than she expected. One girl missing her front tooth hangs back as her group is leaving--Penelope’s group is leaving--just to tell Emily that she likes her “funny makeup.” It’s just eyeliner, really, it’s not that funny, but the sentiment makes Emily smile nonetheless.

Aaron has some trouble with children in his group picking beds, a small verbal scuffle breaking out between two campers vying for the last top bunk. Aaron, ever a mediator, solves it with a stern glance at the pair and a reminder that the other option out of the two is a bed near a window, another highly-sought-after spot. They fight for the window bed next, and Aaron feels a gray hair sprout on the spot.

Once all of Penelope’s campers have unpacked, she takes them on a top-secret trip down to the lake. It’s definitely not top-secret, it’s a staple of every group’s first-day tour, but Penelope has a knack for making her campers feel special, so they creep around the sandy shore on their tiptoes, whispering, while Andrea the Lifeguard looks on.

Despite the speed and relative easiness of the day, everyone finds themselves exhausted, greeting each other with pantomimes of falling asleep and loud sighs. It’s not been a bad day at all, but a long one, and in an attempt to remedy the feeling Derek graciously offers to run to the supermarket and pick up some fun snacks---a counselors only affair.

Spencer volunteers to accompany him on account of him wanting to spend obscene amounts of time with Derek, and also on the account of Rossi offering his expensive car for Derek to drive. Oh, to feel buttery leather seats and hear music and smell anything but dry leaves and B.O.

As soon as their campers are pawned off to other people and sufficiently supervised, Rossi tosses his keys to Derek, who catches them with a jingle.

“Be back soon,” Derek promises, and Spencer punctuates with a wave and a smile.

The fluorescent lights buzz in Spencer’s ear, comforting him. Bzz, bzz. Hope you like the air conditioning, they call out to him. He sure does.

Normally the energy of these 24/7 high-budget chain grocery stores freak Spencer out. It’s always too bright, too loud, too full-of-people. But tonight, there’s not a soul around except him and Derek and the high-school-aged cashier, so Spencer’s actually feeling particularly soothed. The sounds of Derek’s feet dragging on the shiny floor and the squeaky wheel are good sounds, he decides. He could still do without the candy-coated pop music wafting through the speakers.

The shopping cart remains empty for about fifteen minutes before either of them address it. Derek and Spencer spend those 15 minutes wandering aisles, relatively silent save for short, casual remarks like, “Oh, maybe we should get barbecue chips,” or, “JJ loves these Fruit by The Foot.”

Derek pauses from where he’s pushing the cart and turns to Spencer. “We should probably start shopping for real now, huh?”

Honestly, half of Spencer thought they had been shopping for real already. But apparently, if you’re not putting things in the cart, it doesn’t count, he learns. (Derek might be a misguided teacher in that lesson, though.)

“I like to take my time here, because it’s about the only time during camp I get to be alone,” Derek explains, tossing a loaf of bread into the cart absentmindedly. Bread is not on the list.

Spencer tugs at his fraying string bracelet. “Oh. Sorry, then,” he says. Three boxes of graham crackers are set delicately next to the bread.

“For what?”

“Well, you’re not really alone right now,” Spencer observes.

Derek shrugs casually. “Sure, I guess. But you don’t really count, Spence,” he says.

He means it kindly, Spencer knows. But it’s an odd thing to hear--what does that mean? Is he implying Spencer is too boring, or too quiet? Before Spencer can spiral too much, Derek notices his uncomfortable silence and continues, “Hey, no, I mean because I like spending time with you. Like, it’s easy. I don’t have to think about it.”

Spencer has a flash of a vision of Derek dipping him right there in aisle 6 and planting a nice firm kiss onto his lips. In that vision, there’s a fog machine whirring and some Chopin playing. Vision-Spencer nips at vision-Derek’s lower lip.

Instead of all that, present-moment-Spencer nudges Derek’s shoulder with his own, murmuring a happy little “likewise,” and clinging onto the sound of Derek’s chuckle.

Derek kept his hand on the center console the whole drive home, and Spencer desperately wanted to reach out and grab it, to open his palm and lay in it, letting him be engulfed like a weighted blanket. But he kept his hands to himself, squarely on his thighs.

It’s dark when they return, and the bright LED headlights of Rossi’s fancy car seem out of place when they pull back into the camp. Everything seems out of place. Spencer can’t put his finger on it --- the buildings haven’t shifted, and the camp is exactly the same as it was before he left, and yet he’s got this strange premonition that something is just...off.

Spencer’s shoe is untied, and he can feel the laces whipping his ankle as he and Derek trek to Rossi’s office to return his keys to him. He’d reach down and tie them if not for the plastic bags of groceries in his hand---god forbid he let food sit on the dirty, unpaved path, no matter how many layers of plastic packaging protect it. Besides, the air feels thicker than usual, and each time the knit of his shoelace brushes his skin, Spencer is reminded just how uncomfortable everything feels and how desperate he is to be inside.

Everyone is packed into Rossi’s office when the pair gets there, and Spencer’s stomach sinks the tiniest bit.

Penelope and Emily are lounging in those sticky plastic chairs, showered and smelling like a cocktail of cheap, fruity shampoo. Behind them are Aaron and JJ --- JJ’s standing to braid French braids into Penelope’s wet hair, and Aaron just appears to be shaking out pent-up energy. How he isn’t tired, Spencer doesn’t know. Confused, and with hesitant movements, Derek pushes away a stack of bright-white papers on Rossi’s desk to make space for the grocery bags. “What’s everyone doing in here?” he asks. “I thought we were doing Shifts tonight.”

Now that campers have arrived at the camp, it’s become a little more complicated to hang out as a group in the evenings, as they’ve all got an obligation to be in their cabins just in case. Liabilities, and all that.

The first year Aaron was old enough to become a counselor---he was the first of the bunch to age up into the job---he devised an elaborate, elaborate system that allowed the group to socialize without any sleeping campers being left alone.

It’s complete with maps and rules and a very strict set of time shifts, so in addition to Spencer and Emily’s official training, they’d been trained on the side by a very drill-sergeant-y JJ in what Aaron all those years ago so aptly dubbed “Shifts.”

Neither Spencer nor Emily have got it down yet.

“Rossi has an announcement,” Aaron says, pulling his ankle up behind him into a simple hamstring stretch.

“Yeah, I heard he’s gonna promote you to Head of Grocery Shopping, Der,” Penelope teases, peering jovially at Derek through the corner of her eye.

“Haha,” Derek deadpans, and tosses her a pack of fruit snacks that he’d picked out specifically for her. They're the good brand, the blue bag, and she accepts graciously with a kiss blown in his direction. Derek catches it, and presses it to his cheek.

Emily has noticed that Rossi always slinks into his office after his guests have arrived. He’s never there waiting, never anticipating. She has no clue where he’s coming from, although she assumes it’s from his cabin. He always makes an entrance, always sits with a weird old-guy sigh, and then launches into whatever reason he’d called the meeting in the first place.

On cue, Rossi swings the door open and lowers himself into his chair slowly. Emily anticipates it and then there it is---Rossi sighs that damn sigh, and leans forward onto his desk. Although no one else moves, the air shifts towards him as well, and it feels like the seven of them are all standing nose-to-nose.

Penelope slips Rossi a fruit snack discreetly, sliding it across the table to rest by his elbow.

“You know I love you all very much,” Rossi starts, and Emily feels like she might puke. That’s the thing about her Rossi prediction --- the important part, the part where he speaks, is the part she’ll never be able to guess.

So, she feels like she might puke. Not because she feels ill, of course, but in her experience all of that cheesy, “I love you” bullshit always prefaces the worst news, and she has absolutely no clue what is about to come out of Rossi’s mouth. Her mind leaps to the worst possible conclusion---”You’re firing all of us,” she blurts out, relieving the tension just a tad as JJ bursts into snickers behind her.

Another sigh. “No, I’m not firing you.”

“A kid died?”

“Jesus, Emily, would you let me finish?” Rossi says.

Then, after a deep breath, “Developers are coming tomorrow to look at the land. I’m planning on selling Camp as soon as this summer is finished.”

Oh, Emily thinks.

It hits them like a punch to the gut.

There’s hardly room to breathe in the cabin, let alone fall to the floor, but somehow JJ makes it work. The sound of her knees hitting the wooden floor reverberates and warps through the space.

Emily and Spencer exchange a watery glance and mirror each other, biting the inside of their cheeks at the same time. They share a small, spiritless smile at the misfortune.

Penelope is gasping short and shallow breaths as she staves off cries, reaching down and behind her for JJ, who has tucked her head into her knees, pulling off an emotional Child’s Pose on the filthy floor.

Penelope crying is awkward because Emily is sitting right there, upset as well but characteristically less overt about it. Their knees are touching --- Emily’s right to Penelope’s left --- and yet, there’s no tissue for Emily to give Penelope, no way to console her without feeling irreparably out of place. Emily sinks lower into her seat, wishing she had the confidence to place her hand on Penelope’s leg as a tender signal that she’s there and she understands.

Derek is shoved into Spencer as Aaron pushes past him and out of Rossi’s office. It’s not a malicious push, and the sad look Derek gives Spencer is one of pity both for Aaron and for himself, too. An anguished cry comes from outside, from Aaron, and everyone’s eyes widen a little at the sound.

It’s impressive to Emily just how immediately everyone started crying. Before Rossi had even finished his sentence, there were tears welling up in Penelope’s big hazel eyes. Emily almost feels jealous at the brazen displays of emotion. She wants to love something so hard that she could cry at the drop of a hat over it. Nothing has ever touched her as Camp Firefly has touched Penelope, touched JJ, touched Aaron, touched Derek.

“I feel like my world is crashing around me,” Derek admits shyly. “As stupid as that sounds.”

Spencer nods. He knows the feeling. They sit on the porch of their cabin in creaky rocking chairs, a cloud of bug spray encompassing them.

“It’s like, I grew up at this camp. This camp saved me as a kid.” Derek shakes his head.

This camp is saving me now, Spencer thinks wryly before tucking that thought away in a deep corner of his brain. “I’m really sorry, Derek,” he says sincerely.

The door to the cabin creaks open, and a teary-eyed child steps out onto the porch. His feet are light, and he closes the door behind him slowly, clearly not trying to wake any of his fellow campers. “Derek?” he asks quietly. “I can’t sleep...and I kinda miss my mom.”

“C’mere, then,” Derek says tenderly, and gestures for the boy to sit in one of the unoccupied rocking chairs. “Spencer and I were just talking about how much we miss our moms, right Spence?”

Spencer agrees with a nod and a kind smile directed at the boy, then he takes a backseat to the conversation unfolding in front of him. He watches as Derek effortlessly consoles the weeping child before him by sharing his own stories of similar plights in homesickness and offering jokingly to sing the cabin to sleep next time.

After a few minutes Spencer’s mind starts to wander, curious on how the rest of his friends are sleeping tonight after the news of Camp Firefly’s imminent closure. He hopes Emily is chatting with JJ just as he’s chatting with Derek, comforting her and providing the very few words of solace that would help in this situation. He thinks of Penelope and Aaron, all alone, and he half-considers walking over to each of their cabins just to check on them. He doesn’t, though, because it’s technically against the rules, and because Derek is standing, wrapping up his conversation and holding his hand out to help Spencer up out of his seat. The camper, who Spencer has learned is named Alex, scampers inside, tears dried.

Derek holds intense locked eye-contact with Spencer for a second. His eyes are soul-searching, making it clear that he has something he would like to say to Spencer. Maybe he wants to thank Spencer for listening to him talk, or accompanying him to the grocery store. Spencer quickly flips through a plethora of ideas of what Derek could say next like he’s flipping through a book, but he comes up short.

Derek’s mouth is open slightly, like he’d taken in a breath to speak and then lost his train of thought. The sight of him makes Spencer sweat a little, and just for a moment he feels like maybe he should break the short distance between them and kiss him.

Then Derek is tearing his eyes away, dropping Spencer’s hand, murmuring a gentle, “Sleep well, Spencer,” and retreating inside and to his bunk.

“Goodnight,” Spencer replies, but Derek’s already tucked himself in and turned his back to where Spencer stands by the open door.

Emily is always the last one to fall asleep. She knows this based solely on a feeling, an energy that settles over the camp when everyone else’s eyelashes are finally closed and their breathing patterns slowed. It takes a little longer on this night, considering the 40 new bodies in the vicinity--Welcome, Campers!--and the obviously upsetting news that’d been delivered to her and her friends, but finally Emily feels it. She’s the only one awake.

As much as Emily doesn’t like to spend time to herself, as she often finds herself in rabbit holes of self-loathing thoughts, this nightly hour-or-so of atmospheric solitude is comforting. Usually.

Tonight, she’s reeling with visions of land developers coming to the camp in fancy suits, and clipboards, and leather loafers that are far unsuited to trek through Camp Firefly’s unpaved land. And it sucks to imagine.

Emily has only spent a week or so here at the camp, so she doesn't feel like this loss hits her particularly hard. The only reason she’s even at this tiny camp in the first place is the fact that it’s on the exact opposite end of the country from where she’d spent her spring.

When summer ends, and this camp is gone, all she’ll need to do to heal is move to a new city, and make new friends. Then she’ll repeat the process once she gets hurt or bored. The collection of people who have known and loved Emily Prentiss is so impossibly large, and as a result, large is the collection of people who have lost her and haven’t thought about her since.

With regret, Emily recognizes that the group she’s met and befriended this past week will eventually forget about her, remembering her only as the charismatic figure who took over the Craft Cabin the year the camp closed.

And yet, she feels differently than usual. She thinks of pretty Penelope, who is so sweet and sheepish and shy around her, but blooms into wide smiles and rosy cheeks around others. Of JJ, who eagerly taught her how to braid and make friendship bracelets on only their second day of meeting. Derek and Aaron, the rare macho men who haven’t made her want to gouge her eyes out but instead make her laugh constantly. She thinks of Spencer, the quiet intellectual who she feels such a warmth toward, considering him her baby sibling or her protegé.

She’s not entirely sure of what this emotion is, what it means or what it will mean in the future. What she does know, though, is that she’ll take up as much space as possible until her quiet disband from the mismatched group of friends. It’s how she always goes.

It’s then that she decides fuck the developers and fuck Rossi’s plans. If she’s going down and away with this camp, she might as well make it count. As she closes her eyes, finally ready to sleep, a plan begins to formulate in her mind.

- - - - - - -

next part

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 3/?

Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the continued responses to this story! I’m so happy I’m finally just forcing myself to write for the first time in a decade. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! special call out to @candlesandsoftrain for being an especially awesome beta for this one- her suggestions are always amazing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/mild anxiety driven angst Content Warning: So much tension, a very anxious Y/N, sexually charged moments. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 3500+

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

After a night of drinking more than you, well, probably ever had, you woke up with a horrible hangover. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, before suddenly becoming aware of another human being behind you on your bed. You searched your mind for what happened the night prior, only kind of panicking at the idea that you could have… did you?

Said person in your bed made a sound, and you chanced a look without moving too much. “I feel like I’ve been hit by an 18 wheeler.” You heard Emily moan grumpily, which made you giggle lightly. You’d forgotten that she asked for a sleepover. You were so wrapped up in everything Reid, which was absolutely all you dreamed about last night. His hands, his voice, his hair, how he smelled like books and the forest…

“Me too…” you agreed. “Reid said he was going to come and get us this morning, but I have no idea what time it is or even when he’s coming. He said he’d text you.” Emily reached over to her side of the bed blindly, almost knocking her phone off as she tried to grab it. “Are you going to need to go to your place or do you want to borrow some more of my clothes. You seem to fit my PJs pretty well.”

Emily made a noncommittal noise as she put her phone to her face. “Hey Spencer, what time do you thi- You’re five minutes away? Cool cool no of course we’re up and ready to go. No we are not still in bed shut up.” You could assume she was talking to Spencer, and you panicked again, looking down at yourself and imagining what your face and hair looked like right now. Fuck. “Y/N, what’s the apartment number so he knows what number to buzz up to?”

“Um… 364.” You responded, and when she looked at you, she gave you a questioning gaze.

“Yeah, see you in a few, thanks Spencer.” She hung up the phone and stared at you, waiting for you to explain your face.

“I look like a mess!” You shouted, making her wince. You got up and started running around, your own hangover a thing of the past in favor of trying to clean up whatever you could. Your two cats who had been asleep on your feet made some very disgruntled sounds at your dislodging them, and they ran for the hills when you started running around like a crazy person. You imagined that you looked like a hungover hurricane. “He can’t see me like this! I’m in my pjs and my hair is gross and greasy and my makeup is probably smeared all over my face and my head is pounding and I bet I smell and- ugh!” You ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower. You didn’t have long, but you could make a lot happen in five minutes if you tried. “Grab whatever you want to wear!” You screamed, leaving Emily in the dust as you hopped in the shower.

You heard her follow in after you had closed the curtain, fumbling around with your drawers, finding what she wanted apparently. Her hand reached in and handed you what you figured she’d been looking for- a makeup wipe. You took it gladly, scrubbing your face clean with it. “You know, he’s not really like that- shallow, I mean. He’s probably the least shallow person I’ve ever known. And even with smudged makeup and PJs, you’re still bangin’, he’d be blind not to notice. And trust me, he’s noticed that you’re bangin’.” Her voice filled the room.

She was rustling through your drawers again, and you could hear your makeup rattling around as she sifted through it. “I… I’m sure that’s true, Emily, but I still… he doesn’t know me yet. I… I just want to make a good impression. He’s just…” You paused, suddenly remembering that you’d literally just met this woman and you were about to pour your heart out to her. “He’s just… he’s a new coworker and it’s different with men in the workplace. I don’t mind you seeing me a certain way, but I don’t want Morgan or Hotchner or Rossi or Reid to see me anything less than professional.” You finished, knowing she saw right through you, hoping she wouldn’t comment on it.

“Yeah, sure, you want Reid to only see you in a professional light. Sure. Professional.” Emily snickered. “You absolutely don’t want him bending you over a desk in the middle of a classroom while he’s wearing tweed and ramming you until you see stars-”

“Emily!” You would have blushed if you hadn’t already been completely red from the hot water. Even though it was embarrassing that she saw right through you, you laughed. You knew she was teasing and she meant no harm. It was nice to feel so at ease with her already.

“Did you know that he’s a professor in his off hours? Like a real one. At a college. With students.” She continued, and you could almost hear the shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my god go away!” You laughed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading low in your belly. That image was… incredibly attractive. How were you supposed to get through the rest of the day without picturing everything Emily just described?

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll go, so you can have some alone time.” Just in time too, because the buzzer went off in your apartment. “I’ll go get it, miss Y/N, enjoy the rest of your shower time.” She sing-songed as she headed to your door. You tried to focus on finishing in the shower and not on the fact that Spencer was on his way up to your apartment right now. While you were naked in your shower, possibly thinking about him in a professor look fucking you over his desk in his classroom…

“You are my favorite person in the whole world, have I ever told you that?” You heard Emily squeal. “Y/N is in the shower, but I’m sure she’ll say the same once she sees.” You were curious, but you needed to finish getting ready.

Spencer laughed softly. The sound excited you, happy to hear it coming from inside your home. A few minutes later, you finished up and stepped out of the shower, only to realize you’d forgotten a towel. “Em? Can you grab me a towel from the closet in my room please?!” You called out to her from the opening in the door. You heard some shuffling outside the door, waiting wet and cold until a towel appeared through the slot in the door. You grabbed it and wrapped it around your body, revelling in the heat of it. “Thanks, Em, I appreciate it-” You opened the door and found a very non-Emily person standing in front of you. “S-Spencer! Oh! I-I thought you were Emily- oh my god!” You squeaked, realizing you were standing in front of him looking like a wet rat, covered in only a towel. You didn’t get a chance to see the dark look on his face as he stared at you, taking you in head to toe, because you slammed the door in his face. He made a noise of disapproval. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know- I asked Em and then it was you-”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. Emily was in the middle of putting herself together something to eat and she asked me to help you.” His voice came from the other side of the door, soft, unsure, and lower than you remembered it from yesterday. “I’ll leave you alone to get ready, I’m sorry.”

After a moment of silence, he walked away, his feet shuffling on your carpet. You cursed yourself for making him uncomfortable. But the towel wrapped around you barely covered anything. He’d seen you soaking wet and you were so mortified. No one ever wanted cute boys to see them less than perfect.

You cursed yourself inwardly, moving quickly to get ready- hair, a touch of makeup- only to realize you hadn’t grabbed an outfit before running in a panic to shower. Sighing, you put your PJs pack on to make the trip back to your room, just a tank top and a little pair of shorts- you hated being too covered up at night, so you preferred minimal clothing to sleep in.

While you were bent over and moving things around in your drawers to find yourself a bra and underwear, you heard a sound from behind you- a sharp intake of breath.

“S-Sorry! Sorry I-I just wanted to l-look at your books! I didn’t- I was sure you’d be finishing in the bathroom I am so sorry!” He said, putting his hands over his eyes. You wanted to be horrified- your shorts were SO short and he had definitely just seen a lot of you… but he looked so cute, like a little kid who saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Spencer, it’s fine, really. I’m clothed this time, so it’s… it’s fine, I swear.” He peeked at you through his fingers, making you cover your mouth to contain the laugh that wanted to come out. His eyes fell right to your chest, which you realized was only covered by your thin white tank top- oh. You wanted to cover up pretty badly, but you also didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty. You looked around your room and tried to see if you’d left anything inappropriate out, but couldn’t find anything.

“You just… you have so many books, and Emily said you had even more in your room and I wanted to see- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded. This is such an invasion of privacy wow-” He was now looking everywhere but at you, and you kind of missed the way his gaze warmed your insides up and made you shiver. You should have been mad that he was in your room uninvited, but… you liked how he looked in here. It made you feel alive- to have this man here looking at your most private space, looking at your collection of books and belongings.

You stepped towards him, which made his gaze rise to your face, where he found a soft smile. “Spencer, it’s okay. I… would like some privacy to get ready, though? You’re welcome to take in my book collection some other time, if you want. I never get rid of a book. I’d love to know if you think I’m missing anything that I should own.” You said, playing with the end of your tank top.

Spencer smiled at you, shy and adorable. “I’d… like that.” You both stood there for another moment, your eyes avoiding his as he looked at you. The air in the room felt thick and tense, and your heart kept getting faster as he stared at you. After what felt like hours and no time at all, Spencer seemed to pull himself together and walk out of the room to give you your privacy, and you were finally able to take your first breath since you saw him. You looked at yourself in the mirror and took stock of yourself- your chest was flushed pink, your hands were curled into the bottom of your thin tank top that was leaving- very little to the imagination. You never noticed how revealing it was until now, under his scrutiny. You… didn’t mind, though. You liked how he looked at you like you were something beautiful.

Getting dressed in a daze, you finished up and took a deep breath. Time to face the music. Emily and Spencer were on the couch whispering, Spencer's brows creased together. “Hey guys. Sorry I took so long.” They broke apart, both looking at you.

Emily was the first to speak, Reid averting his eyes from you, a rosy color painting his cheeks. “Hey hot stuff. Reid got us caffeine!” She pointed to what you assumed was yours on the coffee table- an energy drink, and somehow, your favorite brand and flavor.

Your face broke out in a huge grin, and you bounced your way over to it. “Thanks so much, Spencer!” You said, opening the can and downing a few gulps. You moaned in delight. “Oh that’s good. Thank god for chemicals that make my brain think it’s awake.” Emily bumped shoulders with Spencer and made him look up at you. He smiled and shrugged, though that tension that you’d had in your bedroom seemed to come back in spades. Would it be inappropriate to jump your brand new coworker within 24 hours of meeting them in front of your other new coworker that you also just met within the last 24 hours? Because you were seriously considering it, your eyes having been staring at his lips for… well, too long at this point. You shook yourself out of it, your face turning a light pick as you caught his eye and he looked a little… damn, did he look smug? Fuck, smug looked good on him.

“What did I miss, guys?” You were desperate to ease the feeling in the room that was making your stomach twist hotly.

Emily smiled at you like she knew all your secrets and took a sip of her coffee, staring you in the eye the whole time. “You know… just talking. You about ready? You took so long in there.” She accused, blinking at you slowly and teasingly.

“Yeah, well, I forgot a towel and then clothes for the day and it just… took a few extra minutes.” She snickered like she knew there was more, but she didn’t press you. “Thanks for coming to get us, Spencer, we really appreciate it. You guys ready to go?”

You turned from them because if you spent one more second looking at that man on your couch, you were going to explode. Or implode. Chances were pretty split on that at the moment. You heard them both get up behind you, and you took the chance to take a breath as you put your shoes on and slipped your jacket on. You really needed to get yourself under control. You worked with the best profilers in the world- there was no way they couldn’t all see through you.

The ride to Quantico was mostly quiet, your head leaning on the window, only answering Emily or Spencer when they directly spoke to you. You were steeling yourself- you were in the process of pulling yourself together. You couldn’t jump your new coworkers bones. You could not continue to fawn all over him. You didn’t join the BAU to get a boyfriend. You joined the BAU to start the career of your dreams, and that was the focus you needed to let drive you. For your dad.

You arrived at Quantico and Spencer parked your car. You all got out relatively quietly, and started heading in, but he put his hand on your elbow and held you back from Emily gently so you two were just out of ear shot. “Y/N… are you okay?” He asked, eyes searching your face.

You couldn’t meet his eyes, but nodded and started walking into the building, hands playing with your bag. “Yeah, of course. Just… excited for day two. Maybe a little nervous. I’ll be okay.” You deflected, pursing your lips. He didn’t look like he believed you, but he didn’t press.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Y/N.” He started, his voice small and his eyes on the ground as he walked beside you. “I didn’t mean to intrude this morning, I just thought- I thought…” He looked at you, and you pretended not to notice. You couldn’t do this right now. You had a job to do, and you couldn’t have… feelings.

You both had stopped walking, and you turned and looked at him, giving him a sad smile. “Spencer, I’m not mad, or even upset. I just… I think I’m a little overwhelmed. Yesterday was my first day, and then everyone was so nice and then they got me drunk and you are just so-” Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking a little, your anxiety making it hard to breathe. You felt his hand take yours, just like last night, and playing with his fingers brought you back down to Earth and made it a little easier to take air into your lungs. “I’m just trying to survive all of this new stuff. It’s all too much and I just… my anxiety can barely take it.”

The sadness in Spencer's beautiful eyes belied his smile. You hated puting that look there. “That’s more than understandable, Y/N. Based on a survey from the Anxiety Disorders Association of America, while only 9% of individuals are living with a diagnosed anxiety disorder, 40% experience ongoing stress or anxiety in their daily lives. It’s completely normal. And being a new person on a team like ours… well, I can’t imagine that helps. T-Take your time. You have friends here and we’ll help you through this transition, okay?”

You smiled, looking at him with relief. “Thank you, Spencer.” You met his eyes then, and the pull you felt from the moment you met him surged through the air, tugging you to him, desperate to close the gap between you. But you fought it, forcing yourself to pull away from him completely and drop his hand. “Come on, let’s go. Day two begins now!” You didn’t have to pretend to be excited, because you definitely were. You walked into the bullpen with Reid, only to be greeted immediately by a mildly grumpy and hungover Garcia.

“Genius boy, new girl, we have a case. Pretty butts to the round table, please.” She said, gesturing for you two to follow her. You did, and the rest of the team followed suit. An hour later, the team were all headed to the plane, you behind everyone else. You didn't know where to sit, because everyone paired off--Morgan with Rossi and Hotch to go over theories and ideas, Emily and JJ talking about the case and clearly gossiping too as they sat beside each other. Only Reid sat alone. You nervously stood there, trying to figure out what to do, when Reid looked up and smiled at you, gesturing to the spot by him.

The plane ride went by smoothly after that, you and Reid working together easily- you already had a base geographical profile to work off of by the time you landed. The team was impressed, and you were both proud of your accomplishments. The case was long and hard… the cases with kids were always the hardest for you to hear about when you were young, And this one was incredibly difficult to live through- three little girls lost, and you had only found him after he’d made a mistake and left one alive- just barely, but alive, where he dumped her. She was only 7.

The jet ride home was quiet, everyone dealing with the case in their own way. You sat in your own corner across from Reid, shaking and holding on to your go bag tightly, one hand inside it, your hand on your dad’s journal. You dug your nails into it, trying to find something to ground you. You couldn’t get the images out of your head. The images of those girls…

Suddenly, a note fell upon your lap, and when you looked up, you saw a messy scrawl on a ripped piece of paper. “Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them. - Leo Tolstoy” You ran your fingers over the letters, memorizing how his letters looped, how he pressed his pen in differently with each word.

You looked up at him and gave him a small smile, sadness in your eyes. You held your hand out, gesturing for his notebook. He handed it to you along with his pen wordlessly.

“We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all. - Joan Didion” You handed it back to him, tears in your eyes.

He scribbled back quickly. “There is no grief like the grief that does not speak. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow… The first one’s always the hardest, I’m here if you wanted to talk. I’m also here if you just want to sit in silence,” the note read.

You took a moment and thought about it, looking up at him and smiling softly before writing back. “Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is more beautiful than the silence. – Spanish Proverb” His smile in response was absolutely breathtaking, but in the best way- he understood completely. For in this moment, the comfortable silence between the two of you that was everything you needed.

The notebook appeared on your lap again, Spencer not looking at you as you looked at him in wonder. “In the flush of love's light, we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free. - Maya Angelou”

Next Chapter

taglist:

@rexorangecouny​ @asomers603​ @green-intervention @averyhotchner

[lucky-katebishop]

What I Read in July 2021

Oh, man, this is gonna be a long post. I bookmarked 33 fics, all of them Harry Potter related, with a few cross-overs.

Forget-Me-Not by Lomonaaeron *favorite*

Plot: Harry isn’t the Boy-Who-Lived, but his parents still died, and Albus Dumbledore, concerned that Death Eaters might seek the boy’s death, cast a powerful charm on him to make wizards ignore him before Harry was left with the Dursleys. Except, with the Elder Wand in play, the charm was far too powerful, and made others essentially forget Harry existed when not directly interacting with him. Sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, Harry lives a contented life with no one either loving or hating him…until the charm breaks on his seventeenth birthday, and he’s suddenly plunged directly into the middle of a living world at war.

Characters: Harry, Theo Nott, Dumbledore, Neville, Ollivander, Lupin, Rabastan Lestrange, Ron, Hermione, Draco, original non-human characters, Peter Pettigrew, Umbridge

Relationships: Harry Potter/Theo Nott

Warnings: none apply

Tags: ancient runes, socially awkward Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Harry Potter is not the boy-who-lived, angst, romance, horcruxes, muggleborn registration commission, blood magic

My Notes: I inhaled this in one sitting and then cried for like 10 minutes afterwards, it’s so beautifully written, it became an instant favorite

*complete*

He Turned Around by ChipOfftheOldSoul *favorite*

Plot: When the Goblet of Fire spit out Harry's name that Halloween night, he was told to join the other champions. Instead, he turned around and walked away.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Victor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Fred & George, Marcus Flint, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; Harry Potter & Severus Snape; Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, mentioned homophobia

Tags: book 4, good Severus Snape, good Draco Malfoy, good Slytherins, smart Harry Potter, Dumbledore bashing, manipulative Dumbledore, past child abuse, runes, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Slytherin Harry Potter, Hogwarts House re-sort, no Ron bashing but he’s not great for a while

My Notes: I’ve already read this twice in less than a week period and I cannot wait until it’s updated (hopefully it’ll be updated) and I absolutely love the way it’s written and Harry’s characterization. I also very much appreciate that there won’t be Ron bashing, I’ve read too many Ron bashing fics, but I am here for all of the Dumbledore bashing!

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

Stars by LilyIsAwesomerThanYou

Plot: When Snape discovers Harry's abusive past during an Occlumency lesson, Harry panics. Snape is forced to take care of him in the aftermath. Mentor/guardian fic. As always, no slash.

Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, emotional/psychological abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, depression

Tags: Severitus, angst, drama, past abuse, hurt/comfort, mentor Snape, guardian Snape, occlumency

My Notes: Snape is a dick in this one, and so far he has not gotten any better, just a warning, but there’s some great Harry angst going on here (that’s why I bookmarked it). Yeah, Snape is pretty evil in this one, there’s some victim blaming and just straight up verbal abuse from him.

*incomplete* [last updated 2018]

violet hill by rejectedreality

Plot: Where Harriet Potter is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ soulmate.

Fandoms: Harry Potter & MCU

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Harry Potter, Steve Rogers, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Harry Potter; Steve Rogers/Harry Potter; Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers; Bucky/Steve/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, emotional/psychological abuse

Tags: fem!Harry Potter, soulmate-identifying marks, age difference, angst with a happy ending, it gets worse before it gets better

My Notes: this is so, so, so fucking beautiful! I am straight up in love with this fic, and I am so sad that it hasn’t been updated for a few years because there was so much potential. There are some hints at underage couples, as Harry’s 15 while Bucky and Steve are adults, but nothing actually happens.

*incomplete* [last updated 2017]

trapped in a blue haze by MourningElegance

Plot: “And in that moment, Draco knows. He knows that all his deep-rooted suspicions about Harry’s childhood are terribly, horribly true.” As their relationship grows, so do Draco’s misgivings about Harry’s past.

Rating: Explicit!!!

Characters: Harry, Draco

Relationships: Harry/Draco

Warnings: explicit sexual content, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: established relationship, smut, porn with plot, explicit sexual content, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, cuddling, post-war, post-Hogwarts, auror Harry Potter, POV Draco, character study, sickfic, epilogue what epilogue, injury

*complete*

From the Dungeons by huntersg1rl

Plot: One conversation goes slightly differently. How much does it change? Features a caring Snape, supportive Malfoys, strong friendships, and Slytherin Harry.

Characters: Harry, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Snape, Narcissa, Lucius, Sirius, Remus, Pomfrey, Dumbledore

Relationships: pre-Harry/Draco; Severus Snape & Harry Potter

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry Potter, Good Severus Snape, good Lucius Malfoy, good Narcissa Malfoy, manipulative Dumbledore, POC Harry, animagus transformation, wizengamot, politics and culture

My Notes: YA’LL! This one is so cool! It’s going under some major maintenance at the moment, so it’ll be a bit of a wait until it gets going again but I recommend reading it immediately before the changes get enacted. I don’t want to spoil anything, but Harry’s a BAMF in this series, especially when we get to book 3

*incomplete* [this is a series, first three parts are completed, last updated February 2021]

Fighting for Freedom by dreamsofmermaids

Plot: At the end of a horrific fourth year, Harry overhears something on the train back to London that sets in motion a series of events that will reveal truths, change decisions, and send Harry on a path to true freedom. But nothing comes without a fight.

Fandoms: Harry Potter & Criminal Minds

Characters: Harry, Snape, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Jason Gideon, Emily Prentiss, Sirius Black, Voldemort

Relationships: to be announced (I know, I’m sorry, I hate this too)

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, major character death, attempted sexual assault, implied/referenced child abuse, suicide attempt, kidnapping

Tags: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, Harry runs away, Snape bashing, not so evil Voldemort, trouble magnet!Harry

My Notes: this one is really good and it features a Harry and Dobby friendship. I’m gonna spoil it right now, Hotchner is Harry’s dad, I hate it when it doesn’t state it in the tags

*incomplete* [last updated February 2021]

From Grace by silver_fish *favorite*

Plot: From the top of the Astronomy Tower, the stars always look brighter. Funny, how Harry can’t seem to find them at all anymore.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced child abuse, attempted suicide

Tags: set during Ootp, insomnia, nightmares, teenage angst, emotional hurt/comfort

*complete*

A Beautiful Lie by Panis_fluvium

Plot: Harry receives his letter while the Dursley's are on vacation. Harry takes it upon himself to find out if the letters he receives are true or if someone is playing a massive joke on him. What happens when he journey's to Diagon Alley alone? What happens when he finally gets to school? Will he finally fit in? Will he finally escape the abuse?

Characters: Harry, Draco, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Blaise, Pansy, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Draco/Harry; Pansy/Blaise; Snape/?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Severitus, Slytherin Harry, bullying, shy Harry, slight Ron bashing, fairly good Voldie, misunderstood darkside, manipulative Dumbledore

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

The heir of something or other by diregewithoutmusic

Plot: When kids in the Slytherin Common Room tossed jeers at the pudgy feet of Millicent Bulstrode, Harry rose up to do something about it. This Harry, now one of Snape’s own, got fewer House points lost but many more detentions– it had never been the colors on his hem that Severus hated. This was not wishing Harry an easy path. This was not wishing the boy a warm House. This was Harry, three weeks in, sleep deprived and considering running away and going back to Privet Drive. This was Harry in the back of Potions class, blank-faced under Snape’s disdain the way he’d perfected under the Dursleys’s torments. When Quirrell shouted “troll in the dungeons, thought you ought to know,” and Harry overheard that there was a girl in the bathroom crying, he still ran off to make sure she got out okay. He hesitated first, at the back of the little pack of Slytherin first years (at the back so that no one could get behind him)– he hesitated. And Millicent Bulstrode, who could never quite keep her tummy tucked in enough, could never brush all the cat hair off her robes, never quite keep her temper in check, hesitated, too.

Characters: Harry, Millicent, Colin Creevey, Hermione, Dennis Creevey, Luna, Ron, Draco, Astoria, Daphne, Pansy, Neville, Susan Bones

Relationships: gen

Warnings: major character death

Tags: Slytherin Harry, canon typical violence

My Notes: this made me cry. It like actually made me cry. I don’t cry when I read fanfiction, but this one actually made me cry, it’s been two weeks and I still feel like crying thinking about this fic, but that being said it’s written so beautifully.

*complete*

Conditionally by Lomonaaeren

Plot: Harry finds out that he's Snape's son. It goes as badly as possible.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Umbridge, Rita, Neville, Voldemort

Relationships: minor Lily/Snape; Harry & Snape; Hermione & Ron & Harry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, suicidal thoughts, minor character death

Tags: Severitus, present tense, powerful Harry, Snape is Harry’s biological father, unhealthy coping mechanisms, independent Harry

My Notes: wow this one made me so mad for Harry. Sirius and Remus are not Harry’s friends, nor Dumbledore. Be warned, as good as this fic is, you will be very angry at all the adults in this fic. Snape isn’t a loving father type, and their relationship isn’t the greatest but it’s better than nothing by the end.

*complete*

Harry Potter and the Secrets Within by WhoWroteThis

Plot: Harry Potter is a very special, but very abused little boy. When a giant drags him into a world unknown, he'll need all the help he can get to understand his newfound belonging. Lucky for him, he has a snake, a dragon, and a horde of protective allies on his side.

Characters: Harry, original animal characters, Snape, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa, Portrait Salazar Slytherin, Basilisk, Blaise, Hogwarts ghosts, Quirrell, Voldemort

Relationships: Harry & Voldemort; Harry & Draco; Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia, implied/referenced alcohol abuse, suicide threats and thoughts

Tags: Harry Potter needs a hug, parseltongue, Harry Potter has a pet snake, powerful Harry, metamorphmagus Harry, good Malfoy family, Slytherin Harry, slow burn, Slytherin politics, Hagrid bashing, Hermione bashing, Ron bashing, Dumbledore bashing, rituals, centaurs, dragons, cats, snakes

My Notes: I will literally never be trustworthy of the basilisk after reading Antithesis but I have to admit the basilisk in this fic is pretty great

*incomplete* [last updated August 2021]

The Tainted Blood of the Father by StarLight_Massacre *favorite*

Fandoms: Supernatural & Harry Potter

Plot: Harry has broken away from his chains after the Dursleys go too far. A simple desire to make a withdrawal from Gringotts leads to something much larger and exposes more than he ever knew about himself. A rushed, impulsive trip to America changes his entire life as he might have just found himself a true family to call his own.

Characters: Harry, John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, attempted sexual assault

Tags: Awkward Winchesters trying to deal with Harry, cinnamon roll Harry

My Notes: The dynamic between Harry and the Winchesters shouldn’t work this well, but they absolutely do. Harry is a little Sam, he acts so much like him it’s so cute and everyone finds it so cute. Really great amount of angst and hurt/comfort. Doesn’t deal with the wizard side of things that much but I expect that’ll change in the upcoming chapters. Author has stated they don’t know if the Winchesters ever will find out that Harry’s a wizard, however, so keep that in mind

*incomplete* [last updated April 2021]

On a Pale Horse by Hyliian

Plot: When Dumbledore tried to summon a hero from another world to deal with their Dark Lord problem, this probably wasn't what he had in mind.

Characters: Harry, Death, Dumbledore, Hermione, Remus, Voldemort, Ron

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: none

Tags: master of death Harry, dimension travel, summoning rituals gone horribly wrong, godlike Harry, Dumbledore bashing, crack treated seriously, does major character death count as a tag when the major character is Death?

My Notes: so absolutely creepy, I love it so much, our Harry is not really all that much like Harry at all because he’s an immortal eldritch being of horror

*incomplete* [last updated 2018]

tell me whether he is dead by LullabyKnell *favorite*

Plot: Harry suffers a few side-effects of dying but not dying. “Hey, can someone help me with this? The mirror in the bedroom’s stopped working for me. “What do you mean ‘the mirror’s stopped working’?”

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Harry/Ron/Hermione

Warnings: none

Tags: post-canon, epilogue what epilogue, post-battle of Hogwarts, post-Deathly Hallows, haunting, implied/referenced character death, gen or pre-slash, fluff and angst, oblivious Harry, master of death Harry

My Notes: so fucking brilliant, this author literally never misses, the relationship between the golden trio is so fucking cute and I love them so much

*complete*

A New Place to Stay by DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan *favorite*

Plot: Harry Potter is called up to Dumbledore's office and told he was being moved elsewhere to keep him safe. He no longer has to stay at the Dursley's, but Dumbledore tells him he has to stay with Severus Snape. For a few days it seemed like a bad idea. Until Severus Snape uncovers the truth of who Harry Potter really is and what he's been through. Watch as Severus does as nobody else has done before him. He takes care of Harry. Watch him flourish into who he was meant to be, a boy with the heart of a Gryffindor and smarts of a Slytherin. The Dursley's, Umbridge and Dumbledore had better watch out Severus is out for revenge. Spy or no spy, Severus is not allowing anyone away with hurting Harry.

Characters: Snape, Harry, Dumbledore, Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ron

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Severitus

My Notes: I’ve read so many of these types of fics that even though this is more than 300k words I can’t remember a single thing about this but it must’ve been good because I labelled it as favorite, so

*complete*

Silver Lining by BloodyRed_Queen

Plot: Harry has a disastrous Summer with the Dursleys and is brought to Hogwarts early. In order to protect him, drastic measures are taken and Harry finds himself living with one Severus Snape.

Characters: Harry, Blaise, Draco, Snape

Relationships: Harry/Blaise; Harry & Snape

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: animagus, father-son relationship, severitus, Snape adopts Harry, good Slytherins, Ron bashing, Dumbledore bashing, therapy, manipulative Dumbledore

*complete*

truth’s like blood underneath your fingernails by Choices_We_Make, questionsthemselves

Plot: "Slytherin would do well, help you on the path to greatness," the hat seems to be coaxing him, but for something that can read his mind, it sure doesn't seem to know him very well. Harry doesn't want greatness. He doesn't need his name in lights and on everyone's lips. He wants meals, hot ones, whenever he wants, with people that he likes and that like him. Friends he can have adventures with, huddle under the blankets with at night and laugh with. People who might think… think he's worth something. In which Harry is sorted into Slytherin, and Snape deals with the fallout.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Theo, Blaise

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry, Severitus sort of, angst with a sort of hopeful ending, Snape discovers abuse

*complete* [part of a series, incomplete but first two parts are finished, last updated 2018]

Harry Potter and the Immortal’s Playground by May_May_o_o

Fandoms: MCU & Harry Potter

Plot: Living forever isn't all it's cracked up to be. Harry Potter learns the meaning of immortality when everyone he loves dies again and again after becoming the master of death. After millennia of love lost, Death sends him to "Elsewhere" in order to give his master something new and different. Harry emerges from ash in New Asgard. What's a man like Thor to do but offer the traveler a home?

Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Death, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint, Natasha, Loki, Thor, Bruce, May Parker

Relationships: Harry/Ginny; Thor/Harry; Harry & Avengers

Warnings: PTSD, suicide attempts

Tags: master of death Harry, magically powerful Harry, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, post-snap

My Notes: I don’t usually like Harry paired with any of the Avengers other than Peter, but Thor and Harry are so soft and written beautifully, I love this author so much

*incomplete* [last updated June 2021]

Another Mind Game by May_May_o_o *favorite*

Plot: Harry’s occlumency reveals his disturbing home life which sets off a chain reaction that cannot be undone. Snape finds himself begrudgingly caring about the bespectacled boy, Harry discovers what it's like to have adults who care, and Hermione finds herself becoming an accidental crime lord. Draco Malfoy is very much along for the ride, in all senses of the word. A ridiculous blend of hilarity and tragedy, Another Mind Game is the multi-faceted fanfiction you didn't know you wanted but will absolutely adore. Featuring a sassy Harry Potter, good friends, and a great deal of sarcasm.

Characters: Harry, Neville, Hermione, George, Fred, Snape, Ron, Luna, McGonagall, Dumbledore, house elves

Relationships: Draco/Harry; Hermione/Ron; Snape & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse; presumed suicidal (it makes sense when you read it)

Tags: mentor Snape, strong Harry, sassy Harry, slow burn, fluff and angst, Dumbledore bashing, crack treated seriously, Snape adopts Harry, protective Hogwarts, magically powerful Harry

My Notes: favorite, absolute favorite, read it three times already and it’s only been three weeks! The endnotes are so funny and add a lot of levity to the story

*complete* (unfortunately, I wish I could read more)

Not Just Pretty Words by LullabyKnell

Fandoms: Harry Potter & The Addams Family

Plot: On an unexpected holiday to America, Harry Potter meets a strange girl at a zoo, finds out that he's a witch, steals a snake, and is cordially invited to the Addams mansion for dinner.

Characters: Harry, Wednesday, Morticia, Gomez

Relationships: Gen; Addams Family & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Harry needs a hug, worldbuilding, happy ending, found family, light angst

*complete*

Bruised Words by starknjarvis

Plot: After Harry blows up Aunt Marge, Dumbledore decides it's not safe for Harry to spend the rest of the summer at the Leaky Cauldron, and instead sends him to stay at Spinner’s End with Professor Snape. It's tense, awkward, and teeming with misunderstandings...but it might be the best thing that's happened to either of them. They're both been without a family for a very long time.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Dumbledore

Relationships: Harry & Snape

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: traumatized Harry, miscommunications, Snape adopts Harry, sickfic

*complete* [part of series, incomplete, last updated 2020]

The Freak Who Lived by DeviantHufflepuff, Zaharya

Plot: When Harry's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, he is kicked out of Gryffindor Tower by those he thought of as friends. It isn't until Snape finds him that the truth comes out about The Boy Who Lived.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Pomfrey, McGonagall, Viktor Krum, Fleur, Cedric, Draco, Neville, Blaise

Relationships: Sirius/Remus; Harry & Snape; Harry/Blaise

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse, PTSD, trauma induced age regression (not intense), suicidal thoughts

Tags: book 4, Severitus, Snape adopts Harry, panic attacks, seer Luna, Harry needs a hug, McGonagall is basically Harry’s mom, manipulative Dumbledore but he’s not evil, big brother Draco

My Notes: Snape is pretty cuddly in this one, he’s not shy with feelings and showing Harry that he’s loved which is nice and a nice change from other Severitus fics. Don’t be off-put by the age regression tag, it’s super low-key, there’s only a couple throw-away lines about it.

*incomplete* [last updated February 2021]

Dudley Dursley’s Most Unexpectedly Fortunate Flower by aTasteofCaramell

Plot: Dudley Dursley is leading a perfectly normal life, his contact with his odd cousin limited to Christmas cards and peculiar memories. Until his daughter sneezes and sets the curtains on fire.

Characters: Harry, Dudley, Dudley’s children, Petunia and Vernon Dursley

Relationships: Dudley & Harry; Harry/Ginny

Warnings: none

Tags: humor, Dudley has a magical child, redeemed Dudley, post-series, Petunia and Vernon still suck, Harry Potter Next Generation

*complete*

Unexpected Consequences by Siebenschlaefer

Plot: The Ministry letter after the Dementor attack has far greater consequences than everybody could have anticipated and at the start of his fifth year in Hogwarts Harry has to be sorted again. And this time there is no negotiating with the Sorting Hat.

Characters: Harry, Snape, Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin, Blaise, Ron

Relationships: Snape & Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: Slytherin Harry, resorting

*incomplete* [last updated March 2021]

Stinging Nettle and Milking Pails by Oceanbreeze7 *favorite*

Plot: Are you a witch or / Are you a fairy? / Or are you the wife / of Michael Cleary? “The fairies will do wicked things sometimes,” Harry murmured gently, “Steal the milk when they get a chance, or skim the cream off the milk crocks.” “Do they ever steal anything more?” Luna asked him rhetorically. Harry couldn’t answer.

Characters: Harry, Luna, James, Lily

Warnings: author chose not to use warnings

Tags: wrong-boy-who-lived, Harry has a twin, dark fairy tale elements, fairy tale style, druids, fae and fairies, James and Lily live

My Notes: Oceanbreeze7 should straight up be a horror writer. This is the writer who wrote Antithesis, the fic that I was literally unable to finish because I was too heartbroken, and they did not disappoint with this one! It’s so good! It’s so horrific! It’s so heartbreaking!

*complete*

Sarcasm and Slytherin by orphan_account *favorite*

Plot: After ten years of misery with the Dursleys, Harry Potter learns that he has magic. Except, in this story, it's not a surprise-the only surprise is that there are others like him. Including his twin brother, Julian Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world. This isn't the Harry you think you know.

Characters: Harry, Theo, Blaise, OMC, Hermione, Ron, Neville, James Potter, Luna, Daphne, Snape, Dumbledore

Relationships: none

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: wrong-boy-who-lived, Slytherin Harry, Harry has a twin, Slytherin politics, no pairings before 4th year, potential Dumbledore bashing, James bashing, potential Snape bashing, Draco’s still annoying

My Notes: I’m not sure why it’s now an orphan account or if it will ever be updated, but I’ve seen a lot of people on reddit compare this with Prince of Slytherin (a series I haven’t read because I chose this one over it) so be cautious of that. I straight up want to murder James Potter, though, so that’s a nice thought. I finally finished it! I started this back in early June and I miss it a lot, I spent many hours reading this.

*incomplete* [five parts, last updated 2019]

The ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna) by Terapsina

Plot: By chance of fate Harry Potter meets Luna Lovegood in his second year instead of his fifth. It doesn’t really change anything for the magical world at large but it changes quite a lot for the young witch and wizard themselves. Here are six glimpses into their relationship from the moment they meet until the end of the war.

Characters: Harry, Luna, Ron, Hermione

Relationships: Luna/Harry; Harry & Ron & Hermione

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, canonical character death

Tags: fluff and angst, blood quill, angst with a happy ending, no character bashing, epilogue what epilogue

*complete*

Blame it on the Nargles by Pixiestick_cc

Plot: One kiss under the mistletoe changes everything for Harry and Luna.

Characters: Harry, Luna, Hermione, Ron, Lavender Brown, Xenophilius Lovegood, Fred and George, Percy

Relationships: Luna/Harry

Warnings: none

Tags: fluff, romantic friendship, kissing, book 6

My Notes: this one is so cute, I’ve read it five times already, Harry’s able to see the creatures Luna can when he kisses her!

*complete*

Finders, Keepers by Magi_Silverwolf

Plot: “I’m here to kidnap you,” Luna said. “Will you be so kind as to get in this trunk, please?” “I’m fairly certain that kidnappers aren’t supposed to politely ask you to go with them.” “Duly noted,” Luna commented before gesturing to the trunk again. “Get in, Harry. We have a schedule to keep.”

Characters: Harry, Dumbledore, Luna

Relationships: Luna/Harry

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

Tags: book 5, fairy Luna, werewolf Remus, magically powerful Harry, manipulative Dumbledore

*complete*

Not Right For Him by JJ Rust

Plot: How will Hermione react when she learns Harry and Luna are together?

Characters: Hermione, Luna, Harry

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance, drama

*complete*

The dreamy one by Levi Snowfractal

Plot: Harry finds himself thinking about Luna Lovegood while in detention.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance

*complete*

She Made Him Feel Silly by ArtemisRoseShadow

Plot: The hero usually fell in love with the ever-so-loved princess. It still felt like that to Harry.

Characters: Harry, Luna

Relationships: Harry/Luna

Warnings: none apply

Tags: romance, drama

*complete*

Oh thank god I finished that, that took three hours. Alright check out more of my recs, I have more! Thanks for reading, let me know if you read any of them :)

[whump-town]

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Seven: Safe To Shore 

You're gone, gone, gone away; I watched you disappear All that's left is a ghost of you Now we're torn, torn, torn apart; there's nothing we can do Just let me go, we'll meet again soon

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word Count:  6680

Author’s Note: I am... so sorry

Derek Morgan walks into the hospital with no rushed agency. A simple leisure stroll guiding him through the hospital and the winding halls. He keeps his eyes cast to the book he’s reading as he works his way to the elevator. No need to watch too carefully when he knows where he’s going. These halls are kept clear of spectators and everyone’s got an agenda so there’s rarely the chance to run into someone’s conversation. His right thumb sits wedged into the spine, holding it open as he eats an apple with the left. He’s not sure he could tear himself away from the pages if he wanted to-- this shit is enrapturing. 

His feet carry him on autopilot, making turns he’s memorized without so much as parting his eyes from the words on the page. “How are you holding up, old man?” he doesn’t knock as he steps into Hotch’s room. Not much of a point in it anyways aside from letting Hotch know someone’s coming. The only thing he does worth hiding these days is moving places he shouldn’t be without help. Which, when the fancy strikes, he’s a real fiend for. But he’s in bed, propped up by pillows and half watching Judge Judy and trying to succumb to the drugs pulling him back down for another nap.

Hotch turns his head in the direction of the noise, already knowing from the loud entrance that it’s Morgan. Which eliminates any performative pieces he’d need to throw on to look healthier or to prepare for another round of being poked at and moved about. He lets his eyes slide shut, too tired to engage in conversation and past the point of caring if that looks disrespectful or cold. A shiver escapes him, his skin is broken out in painful goosebumps with his arms bare in the room. Any attempt to curl into himself, turning his shoulder into the bed, is met with sharp pain from the chest-tube. 

A nurse had come in not that long ago and moved him around enough to disturb his blankets, even pulling that dreadful mask back up over his face. She’d tucked the blankets around his hips and upped his medicine enough to subdue him. Leaving him too tired, too fogged to piece together the words and tell anyone that he’s cold and wants another blanket. He’s not really there when they give him all the drugs and he hates his inability to communicate. Even opening his jaw requires so much careful thought that he knows any speech he can produce will be slurred to the point of incomprehension. 

He looks over to Derek, pleading that in some way the other man has acquired the ability to read his mind. It’s overwhelming but all he can manage is a scratchy hum in reply and a sloppy, “ ‘m fine.” It leaves his mouth poorly, tongue hardly able to move to enunciate what he wants to say. But there are some benefits to having known someone as long as Derek has known Hotch. 

Derek noticed the shiver and the pained wince, immediately. Seen the wheels turning over in Hotch’s head and the way he’d sunk deep within himself, disappointed when he was unable to produce it on his own. Derek can’t imagine what it must be like to forfeit so much independence and he knows he’d hate it every bit as much as Hotch must. Only a year ago, Hotch had stood looming over them all giving out orders and the first person they all run to when shit gets bad. JJ’s right hand no matter if she needed him to be her “bad” guy and yell at misogynists or to just be her similar ear when fleshing out theories. Now she’s his defender.

Placing his book and apple down on the visitor’s chair, he moves first to the tangled mess of blankets around Hotch’s legs. Pulling the blankets back and moving them so they sit laid across his body, actually providing him with the comfort and the warmth he wants. Tugging them up until Hotch’s arms are covered with the thick blankets and only his head peaks out. “Better now?” Derek asks, softly. He stays standing, taking Hotch’s hand and watching for Aaron to peel his eyes back open and nod his head. “Good.”

Derek sits back down and, though Hotch has closed his eyes and is just hardly awake, cracks his book open. “You must be on some next level drugs to recommend me this fucking book,” he says. Glancing just in time to see Hotch hide a smirk. “Nah, don’t play with me right now. I’m in an emotionally vulnerable place. You told me it was good and it’s not, it's sad. I’m sad all the time. I’m only sad. Why would you tell me to read this book?”

Hotch smirks, “didn’t think you’d listen… never did before.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “what does that even mean? Of course, I listen to you sometimes.” He just wishes he’d thought a little more about taking on this book. The stupid thing is breaking his heart. He’s getting comfortable again when his phone goes off, ringing and not just another text from Garcia. The one at the door had requested he tell Hotch that she loves him and he would if it was pressing but she’s about ten minutes away and can tell him herself when she gets here. But it’s not Garcia. “Hello?” he stands again, glancing at Hotch and not bothering to excuse himself when he sees Hotch doesn’t even open his eyes to see what it is.

“Is this Derek Morgan?”

Morgan glances back around as he steps out into the hall, feeling off about leaving Hotch alone in that big room. “Yeah,” Derek mumbles. “I mean, yeah, I’m Derek Morgan.”

The person on the other line hums, “I’m calling about Dr. Spencer Reid. I have his medical files here and you’re listed as his power of attorney?”

Derek freezes, “yeah. Yeah, I’m his-- I”m his power of attorney.” It had bounced around between them over the years. Jason and Hotch and now Morgan. Though the point of keeping that amidst the team was so when they went into the hospital it would be easy to get information from the hospital. You can never control what happens in the field.

“I regret to inform you that today Dr. Reid was in an automobile--”

They’re all learning the hard way the field isn’t the only place where they relinquish control.

Derek laughs. Tears sting his eyes and he laughs. For the last month-- no God since fucking January, it’s supposed to be Hotch. He had a suit tailored to fit him because of all the weight he’s lost. Clothes picked out and a tie he and Emily and Garcia fight over at least once a week. Hotch refuses the one Emily likes and Garcia hates it when Emily argues that Hotch will be dead so what does he even care. There’s a Will they’ve been over at least a dozen times and contingency plans for Jack. Derek hasn’t planned and overthought every word he’s said to Hotch in the last year afraid something stupid will be the last for it to be…

“Yeah-- yeah I hear you.”

“Again, I’m very sorry.”

“Yeah,” Derek breathes. “Okay.” He stands there with the phone pressed to his ear long after the line dies. He just stares. Unable to comprehend what just happened. What is happening? It’s just really not their year. Emily never shuts up about how close they are, just over the hill or some bullshit equivalent metaphor. But she’s not the one forcing herself back together knowing that if Hotch suspects Derek’s hiding anything it’ll kill him. He’ll stress himself out trying to figure out what it is and if he does figure it out or even if he doesn’t… it will kill him. He steps back into the room, double-checking that Hotch won’t see that he’s just cried. “Hey--” he stops right there at the door. 

Hotch is sitting up with his eyes vacantly cast to the blank wall in front of him. His shoulders pull up to expand his lungs but he can’t get enough air. “Hotch?” Derek looks around the room, to the monitors picking up speed as his heart rate rockets and his blood pressure drops. “Hotch, you okay?”

Hotch looks over to Morgan and then back at the wall. “I can’t breathe,” he pulls at the gown loosely holding onto his shoulders. “Something--” his face pinches, a hushed cry of pain leaving his lips as he folds into himself. “It won’t-- Somethings-- Somethings wrong.”

Derek moves to step in but he freezes as the room is filled with the sound of very, very angry sounding machines. He stumbles back, watching Hotch fall back onto the bed. Kicking and writhing as he tries to breathe. He’s not even sure what to do. His mind is fogged with the news about-- God, how’s he supposed to tell Hotch? Garcia’s coming, he’ll have to tell her. And Dave and Emily and JJ. They can’t handle this. They won’t make it. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse steps past Derek and he stumbles back. He hits the wall behind him, jumping hard at the sudden jarring hit. Derek looks back at Hotch one more time, watching his legs slide back down to the bed. His frantic wheezing gets softer. And Derek walks away. He runs away. He can’t be there.

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

 Mid-February

Emily looks down at the comforter, playing with the soft material rather than looking at him. He is laying down, stretched out beside her. It’s the first time she’s seen him vulnerable-- the first time she sees the way that he has no control over what his body decides to do anymore. Ice pack over his head, trying to soothe his headache, and a bloodied tissue in the other as he awaits the next nose bleed. They’re close enough to touch despite having a whole bed to layout on. His leg against her side, her arm near his hip. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers nasally. Turning his head to look over at her, she winces at the sight of his bloodied face. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

She looks down at her lap, scratching at her pants so that she doesn’t have to look at him. It is a lot to ask. It’s a job she’s had before and for a long time. After Foyet he asked her to be his power of attorney because Haley wouldn’t be able to while in protective custody and as they stood she was the only person who could stand to be around him. She’d agreed, so long as he’d be hers that way she could get her mother off the list. They’d done the paperwork together. 

“I don’t want Dave--” he chokes himself up. Holding his hand over his mouth as he averts his eyes away, trying to hide just how upset the idea makes him. “He, ugh, I don’t want to… He had a son, you know? A-- A baby and I don’t mean to say I’m, you know, but I don’t want something to happen and force him to…” 

Dave cares very deeply for all of them but it’s no secret that he has a special little attachment to Aaron and Emily. A bond that is a little more pronounced, he just knows how to deal with them. Something about that reckless nature of theirs that he knows all too well. Emily knows what Hotch means even if he can’t bring himself to say it. Before making Dave his power of attorney was a matter of convenience. Now he has to think, far more than before, about who he knows will make the right decisions. 

“Aaron,” she squeezes his hand. “I’ll do it.” Her heart hurts just to think about the worst-case scenarios. Imagines doctors asking way too many questions and his lifeless body spread out on a stretcher waiting for her to tell them they can pull life-support. Will she find herself in charge of a zombie, hovering between life and death, and all he has is her by his side and her voice to go by. To tell the doctors they can try shocking his stilled heart one more time or if they can stop dumping chemo into his unresponsive veins. What is she getting herself into?

“One condition.” she barters. “You be mine again. Old times sake.”

He’d caved because he knew it was the only way to win. 

In another hospital on a metal tray in the E.R. soaked in blood and screen cracked, Emily Prentiss’ phone sits idle. The decision to make him her medical proxy was a whim but there was an air of urgency in making her his. To him, they were playing with time and he hates waiting for the inevitable. She’d just wanted things to go back to the way that they were before. Coming home because she misses them and maybe working in the BAU or at least within the FBI again. She gets to be his right-hand man again and she and Dave and Hotch get to spend afternoons drinking in Hotch’s office. 

It wasn’t supposed to mean this. 

This was never supposed to happen.

David Rossi picks up the unknown call, agitated to be bothered while he’s driving. “This is he.” He gets onto the high-way and grimaces at the carnage of mangled and warped metal sitting on the side. Waving the man in the fireman’s suit who directs him into an adjacent lane but he’s not spared the sight of the crimson pools of blood baking under the sun. He shakes his head, sighing sadly. 

He nearly causes another wreck. 

“Are-- Are you sure you have the right… I mean, I just it’s hard to believe because--”

“Yes, sir. Ms. Prentiss’ I.D. was found on her person at the scene. We’ll have to have someone come to identify the body but yes--”

The body. 

He just opened the text she sent. Urging him to go to the hospital sooner because she was leaving to go get Reid and didn’t want Hotch sitting there alone any longer than he had to. She’s always thinking about that, covering them in ways they hadn’t thought of. Sending them articles about cancer and never seeming to have to ask Hotch anything just knowing. There were two texts, one that was distinctly her and the other Reid. Too much grammatical rule-following to be Emily who texts by shortening every word she can and miss-spelling the other half. 

If Emily’s dead… where’s Reid?

He has no choice but to keep driving to execute this one thing that’s been asked of him. He’s going to go sit with Aaron until someone else comes and he’ll keep this all under wraps. Just a few years ago Aaron pulled off the opposite, convincing them Emily was dead. Let them bury her and work through their grief assessments all while knowing she was alive. Dave can manage this. 

But Aaron hadn’t fooled Dave. 

And Dave doesn’t fool Aaron for a second.

“Where is she, David?”

David. No one else is there when he arrives and no amount of water he splashes across his face can wash away the deep red agony of the mourning he feels in his bones. To lose a child… He can’t protect any of them. Another painful reminder to hit him like a kick as he steps into Aaron’s hospital room. Watching as the staff around Aaron plunge drugs into his forever thinning body. Even though he knows there’s nothing to be done now, it’s a futile fight.

The weight of his body in that visitor’s chair is unwelcomed, wrong. 

Aaron’s body might fail him every chance it gets but he’s been a profiler his whole life. It’s the only way to survive and now is no exception. No amount of Dave’s soft diversion will distract him from the red swelling around Dave’s eyes. From the wet rings around his sleeves where he didn’t push his sleeves up high enough before splashing water onto his face. And he pieces his own truth together through what Dave won’t tell him. 

Until he knows.

“Don’t lie to me,” he asks softly. They’d tried to intubate him just after Derek left but he’d refused it. Fought between heaving breaths until they left him alone. Gave him the steroids and left him to his own devices. He didn’t care right in that moment or even now as his chest burns from the exertion. No more, he’s decided. He’s tired and in pain. No more cuts and tubes and hospitals. The sort of thing that he’s expecting to scream and fight with Emily about. Only the papers are on their way, waiting to be signed by his trembling hand, and she’s not here. “Please, Dave. Don’t lie to me.” 

David Rossi is a bad man. Not so much a coward as just his morals askew, the things he’s willing to do and the things that he does do… Though for all the bad things he’s done, he knows that Emily and Aaron keep turning back around expecting Dave to be there. Needing him to come into their chaotic as all hell lives as if he has a place at that table. But his place is there, the plate set. Aaron is looking back at him, asking just a simple thing of Dave. It’s right there and the truth will kill him but a lie will shatter all that they have. 

“She’s dead, Aaron.” 

Dave continues on as Aaron chokes, turning his face away from Dave.

“Derek thinks it was the snow. She and Reid… there was just so much snow and when she--”

“No!” he doesn’t want to hear it. “No, please leave me alone.” The panic builds up like the fluid in his lungs. Until he’s choking on both and can hardly breathe. He doesn't want to hear anything. Doesn’t want to know that it happened.

“Aaron?” Dave stands from his chair, trying to reach out to him but Aaron pulls his hand away. 

“Please,” he wheezes, fingers wound into his gown. “Please, Dave, please go.”

A nurse steps into the room and Dave looks back at and then to Aaron and he listens. For once in his life he listens to Aaron’s pained cries and he relents. He steps out of the room, pushing hot tears off his cheeks with his fists. He’s losing them. Lost them. It’s far too late now. What was Aaron holding on to before? The idea of living was only entertaining with the prospect of getting to work with Emily again-- being on the team. Aaron’s been convinced for far too long now that Jack would be better off with Jessica and the past few months, in his mind, have only proven that. The team functions without him, they’ve been sent off on cases without him. Morgan taking charge. It’s not the first time Morgan's taken charge. 

So, what does that leave? 

His mess has been cleaned up. He doesn’t have to pretend to be strong for Reid. Doesn't have to stay for Emily. Derek will take care of the team. Jessica will raise Jack. It’s better this way. Garcia and JJ don’t need him, they never have. Dave’s always saying how he needs friends his own age. This puts them on a new path. A new leg. They’ll be okay.

It’s better this way. It really is.

“Sir?” 

Hotch signs the papers-- all of them. A DNR that Emily had once rolled her eyes at him for even considering. She wouldn’t let it get that bad, she’d promised with a chuckle. He’s not dying on her. Funny how just a little snow changes everything. He signs himself out of the hospital and realizes that he doesn’t have anyone to come get him. A nurse tries to talk to him, to comfort or console but he’s consumed by his grief. Shaking as his silent sobs shake his thin body. She’s nearly afraid he’ll kill himself like this, crying so hard that he can’t breathe.

He takes a taxi home. Forehead leaning against the cool glass and thankful that the man driving doesn’t even bother to pretend to be interested in him. No one’s at the house but she’s everywhere. Her coat on the floor where it had fallen off the rack. A pair of her shoes right in front of the door, he nearly trips over them. A mug she left out on the counter. A book left she’ll never finish on the couch. A sweatshirt thrown over a chair. 

His feet carry him on autopilot, body too tired to fight but he can’t make it back to his room. If she were here-- he’d still be in the hospital-- she’d bully him back onto his feet. Rolling her eyes and keeping him in motion. She always seems to know when to push and when to cave and he doesn’t. He can’t tell the difference between pain that he can push through and pain that’s going to kill him. 

Well… maybe it’s pain that is killing him now. 

The couch is cold but the blankets are kept in a chest too far away. Across the living room just far enough away that he knows he might be able to get to it but he won’t be able to get back to the couch. All he can do is look over at it.  

He already misses her. The way she buzzes about everywhere or how she’d probably force him to sit up and watch some shitty sitcom with her. He’s gotten used to her invading his personal space and demanding his attention. Talking all the time even if he doesn’t respond. 

He’s alone again. 

How did he ever set out thinking he could do this in the first place without her? 

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

He gets worse, quick. 

The pneumonia is what’s hurting him the worst, the cancer spreads slowly but the pneumonia settles deep in his lungs. Breathing is taxing, consumes far too much of his energy. Once, maybe a few weeks ago, he would have assured them that he would be fine. There’s no need to worry. It’s hard to lie about something like that when he needs Derek’s help to stand, when he can’t sit up on his own without being propped up by pillows. 

They argue where he can’t hear them, not that it matters anymore. 

He wants to go to the funerals but it’s still cold out. How are they supposed to make that happen? Derke hates the idea, tells JJ to just abdon whatever plan she’s come up with because he’s not going. He’s still convinced they can force life back into him, go back and fix everything. He’s living in some world where there is no cancer or car accident and Emily’s in London and Reid’s in Las Vegas visiting his mother. 

JJ goes on. She picks out a suit and finds his best jacket. Hunts down a nice blanket and takes the wheelchair the hospital offered them. She smiles and tells Garcia that she’s an angel when she knits him a black hat to pull down over his head, beaming when she produces a matching scarf. “It’s got a little blue in it,” Garcia says, showing her the dark blue accenting the ends. “That’s his favorite color.”

JJ squats down beside the bed, pulling her dress up so her knees can bend, and she can move how she’d like. Gently, afraid touch alone will unravel him, she places her hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t shake him, she just rubs her hand over his arm until his eyes crack open. “You’re still sure you want to do this?” she asks as he slowly places himself. A weary, bone-tired weight settling over his face as he looks back at her processing what she’s asked. 

He glances at his nightstand to the alarm clock sitting to his right. They’ve given him an hour, which is more time than he’d normally need, but they’re not moving at his normal pace. They’re moving at their own pace, how quickly they can work him into clothes. With a nod, he sets them into motion. There used to be a time when he could be picky about these sorts of things-- who saw him naked and who he allowed to help him. Now he can’t go to the bathroom unless someone helps him drag his stiff bones there. Can’t stand unless he’s leaning into someone else’s strength. 

He’s folded into JJ, going where she pulls him into her chest, so that Derek can slide in behind him and help her work his unwilling arms and legs into pants and a shirt. The day isn’t altogether that weary just a little cold. Considering the weight he’s lost, it makes things easier for them to layer his clothes. He lets JJ pull a long-sleeved t-shirt over his head, slowly working his arms into the sleeves while she finds his white button-up and the black sweater Morgan laid out to go underneath it. It takes her no time to attack the buttons on his shirt. He gets no real warning from Derek as the black sweater is tugged down and he hears a soft, pleased huff of a half-laugh that Derek gets out of his surprised grunt. 

JJ frowns at Derek, unamused with him. She squats down by Aaron’s legs, JJ cups his cheek, tilting his head up so she can look into his eyes. Stroking her thumb across his cheek, “you don’t have to come, Hotch. No one will--”

“I do,” he whispers. “I can’t-- I won’t forgive myself if…”

So he goes and she’s glad he’s there because she doesn’t want to be alone. There’s something still grounding about him being there, sitting there beside them. Squeezing their hands to comfort them, offering Garcia a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. It’s like… It’s nearly like he’s himself for a day. Holding JJ to his chest and rubbing her back until she can stand and give the eulogy she’d written. He’s talking softly to Morgan, the two of them taking charge of the day and Derek is just relieved to be told what to do again. To have a plan of action that he doesn’t have to come up with. 

Jack stays glued to him, sitting in his lap or holding tight to Hotch’s sleeve. 

Hotch is Hotch. He stifles his coughs and sits up straight. Pretending is exhausting and by the end of the day, the other’s flooding his dining room with the thick scent of food and soft sniffles as they cry and laugh, he settles into the couch. Listening to Derek tell the story about the time he took Spencer hiking and the kid twisted his ankle half-way to the top, didn’t tell Derek, and he had to carry him all the way back down. It was like listening to a podcast, Spencer telling them all kinds of things about every little thing they passed. At the time he was annoyed but now...

Jack stops at the end of the couch, sniffling as he uses his sweatshirt’s sleeve to wipe his nose. It’s obvious he’s been crying no matter how hard he’s tried to cover it up. His eyes get red and the skin around his eyebrows very pale, he gets that from Haley. Neither of them has ever been able to hide their tears. They’re cryers, Hotch knows, Jessica is too. He finds it terribly endearing and he’s always adored their ability to be so sensitive. He’s glad Jack never lost it… he hopes he never loses it. 

“Don’t wipe your nose on your sleeve,” Hotch says as well as he can. It’s hard to breathe around the fluid in his lungs but he can manage anything for Jack. He’ll do anything for him. “That’s gross.”

Jack giggles because he’s young and boogers on his sleeve are something to laugh about. Hiding his face by looking down at the floor he stumbles over to the couch. Sinking down onto his knees with a little thunk and folding over the cushions until he can press his face into the stack of blankets over his father’s body. He turns his head, looking up at his father, and smiles again. Closing his eyes when Hotch puts his hand over Jack’s cheek, stroking back the overgrown hairs. “Daddy?” Jack doesn’t know the word for the way that he feels but it’s anxiety. He’s terrified and he’s anxious because losing Haley had been quick and he hadn’t even known it was happening. 

Losing his father is… everywhere he looks. 

“What is it, buddy?” Hotch strokes the soft blonde strands back behind Jack’s ear. Lost to the simple soothing motion. 

Jack turns his face into the blankets, relieved to smell something homely. From what feels like so long ago. It doesn’t smell like Jessica’s house or like the hospital. It just smells like his dad and home and like everything that has been happening is one great big old lie. He doesn’t want to cry but no matter how hard he wipes at his tears they keep coming.

“Okay, okay.” Hotch can’t lift Jack but he still manages to catch one of Jack’s furiously rubbing hands. His grip isn’t strong and Jack could pull free but he doesn’t. “Buddy--”

“You’re gonna die, aren’t you?”

He put off this conversation far too long but it still hits like a MACK truck. “Bud--” he swallows thickly, wincing at the stab of pain across his chest. Right, he’s reminded, have to stay still. And Jack sees it. No matter how hard they’ve all tried to protect him he sees Hotch freeze as the pain overwhelms him. Unable to speak, just has to keep forcing air in and out of his failing lungs. It is only a minute but Jack watches frozen in horror as Hotch slowly comes back. “Sorry,” he whispers, unable to make his voice any louder. 

Jack is holding his hand, hiccuping softly. “Mommy probably misses you,” he whispers, tentatively. 

Hotch smiles but doubts that. Tears swell and he can’t even wipe them away. “I’m so sorry Jack.” He’s making an orphan out of his son. He’s just a baby. Someone else will teach him how to shave and someone else will sit with him when he opens his acceptance letters to all kinds of great colleges. Hotch will never get to see him graduate-- not even from elementary school. He’ll never struggle to piece together what to say when Jack gets his first heart-break or to find out if he’s into men or women or likes to wear nail polish or if he’s a coffee fiend like him or hates it like Haley. 

He won’t be there.

“I’ll still talk to you,” Jack offers. “I promise. I’ll tell you anything and everything--” there are tears pouring down his little face. Frantic now and Hotch isn’t sure which of them he’s trying to console. “And-- and--” Jack’s lower lip curls under the other and lets out a choked sob. He tries to hide it but it comes out he sits up, pushing himself as close as he can get to Hotch. “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want you to be with Mommy. I want you. Why can’t you stay with me?”

It’s not the first time Jack felt anger towards his mother but it’s the first of many times he hates both his parents. His mother for not being here and father for being weak because that’s all Jack can understand. That cancer is a battle and his father, the man he thought invincible, is losing. So he must not be fighting hard enough. Why can’t he just fight harder? Why isn’t Jack enough?

Why aren’t any of them?

Garcia knits him thick winter hats but he’ll never make it long enough to see the next snowfall and need them. He takes the hats she brings him and lets her start new ones even though he knows he’ll never see their completion. Jack draws pictures, endless in supply, and they go up all around Hotch. JJ takes the time to pin each one someplace he can see it. 

His awareness goes first. The confusion that sets in… it’s hard to know what to say. They never know what to do.

He asks about work. JJ takes his hand and talks him through old cases. Tries to settle on the good ones and he lets her. Smiling comes easy when there’s winning and she reminds him of the children they did save. Of the goods things.

He tells them that he’s not in any pain but he’ll get confused a few moments later and with tears streaming down the sides of his face ask them why it hurts. Trembling and looking so desperate, choking in pain and shuddering as he fights it. “Why?” he asks. He doesn’t honestly know why it hurts or why they won’t help. “Everything-- Everything hurts--” And sometimes he can’t even speak. Just has this hazy glow to his eyes as he shakes and coughs. And there’s nothing they can do for him.

The worst is that he won’t stop asking for Emily. They come up with so many lies and sometimes they can get little smiles out of him by telling him something clever if it feels right and like something silly she would do. It’s hard to be so positive in the face of that very fresh wound but it’s so much worse when he does remember. When he asks and then hardens and whispers, “no… no, it’s okay. I remember.” He looks so much happier when he doesn’t.

He stops eating two days before he gives up drinking. 

“Just a sip,” Garcia begs, crying and knowing what this means. 

Hotch just looks back at her but he’s not there.

“Leave him alone, baby girl.” And Derek pulls her out of the room as she cries, sobbing and screaming because she can’t stand to lose anymore. Emily and Reid and now he’s going too. It’s too late she knows to tell him the things that she needs to. What if he doesn’t know that she loves him? He might stay if he knew that, right? He wouldn’t leave her. She’d ask Derek to promise he won’t leave but Hotch did that too once. Crotched down in front of her office chair and took her hand and promised that all she needed him he’d be here. 

Well, she still needs him, okay? So… 

Now it’s borrowed time. 

“Let’s go outside, old man.” Derek has to stop, turning his head to the side when Hotch smirks at the way he says ‘old man’. A tear falls down the side of his face and rubs it away, harder than necessary. It’s a practiced maneuver, he lifts Hotch and puts him in the wheelchair. He’s careful, wrapping Hotch in as many blankets as he finds within arm’s reach, propping his sides up with pillows. Suddenly, overcome by just the way Hotch’s bed looks. Two years ago it was empty, only ever occupied by him. Now they sleep here with him every night, trying to make sure that if he goes in his sleep he’s not alone. So that they can have the comfort of knowing they were here and they did do everything they could.

“Jack,” Hotch rasps as they approach the door. 

“Can you hear him?” Derek asks, opening the back door and closing his eyes against the sun he feels on his skin. “Look at him,” Derek says, “ out here running around like a heathen.” Jack doesn’t notice them and neither does Henry. The two loudly going on about their game dodgeball or maybe keep-away it’s hard to tell. There’s just a lot of thrilled shouting. It makes Derek smile, seeing them just be kids. 

He puts Hotch in the shade and waves to Garcia and JJ already standing out there, the two of them dragging out chairs to stand in the sun. The two of them move to soak in a strangely warm day. After all the snow, all of which still hasn’t melted, a random nearly sixty degree day with a bright hot sun feels like spring. “You okay here?” Derek asks, setting the brakes.

Hotch nods, smiling softly as he watches Derek join Dave and the boys in the yard. He watches them play, hears Jack scream with pure joy when Derek throws him up into the air and when JJ fusses with all four of them for even thinking about taking off their jackets. They go on and on and he gets tired just watching them. Resting his head against the wheelchair he does his best to keep his coughs soft, undetectable to the others. He’s cold but he doesn’t want to go inside just yet and though it’s hard to breathe he doesn’t want anything. He just wants to watch a little longer.

Just a little longer. 

Derek isn’t sure what it is, something churning in his stomach, but he looks up. Eyes moving across the lawn-- Garcia knitting under the safety of her large brimmed hat and JJ stretched out on a chair trying to read. Jack has Henry pinned, the two of them going on wrestling with or without Derek now that he’s distracted. 

“Hotch?” Derek steps closer. Derek feels it crawl up his throat, a rabid animal clawing and ripping him to shreds. He wants to rush over, fights the urge to run over and shake him but he already knows. He glances over to Dave, listens to the older man chuckle and shove at Henry who tries to overpower him. Sees JJ smile at something on her page and Garcia frown and undo a piece she’s messed up.

For a moment, he’s the only one that knows and he isn’t sure what to do. How to shield Jack from this or who he’s supposed to call. 

“Uncle Derek!” Henry screams, begging to be released from where Dave has him pinned to the ground mercilessly tickling his sides. 

Derek looks back at Hotch one more time, forcing himself not to cry. This is what he wanted, right? Not in a hospital or hooked up to machines. He was sitting in his yard and listening to what’s left of his family enjoy a warm sunny day. 

“I’m coming buddy,” he finally manages, smiling at Jack when he comes running up. Hoping that for just a few more minutes Derek can preserve something of his youth. Remind him how much fun he had today. That these parts be what he remembers. 

“Uncle Derek?” Jack asks, once Derek pulls him up into his arms. “I think we should go get ice cream. Don’t you? I’ll get strawberry and I’ll even share with daddy. Henry will be good too! Please?” 

Derek nods and smiles, “why don’t you get Uncle Dave to take you, huh?” He nods to Dave, “take these heathens to get some ice cream.” 

And Derek Morgan stands all by himself as he ushers them away, tells them to go on that he and Hotch will be fine. Go, go, and don’t come back without a cone for him. Waits until he can’t see the car anymore and he allows himself to cry. Sucking in choked breathes as he walks back to the yard. Pulling up the breaks. “Come on,” he whispers to Hotch. “One last time, old man.” He’s almost expecting that lazy smile. To hear Hotch grumble his name in that exasperated tone Derek loves so much. Only to be met with silence. 

Nothing. 

They didn’t say goodbye.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater

[catchyoulaterhotdog]

In Defense of Bobby Wilson

Bobby centered fic with a slight hint of rebby/boggie. Word count: 1306

WARNING: QUICK HOMOPHOBIC SLUR AND DISCUSSIONS OF DEATH

You know there’s a feeling you can’t quite describe.

A gaping hole in your chest, something irreplaceable. Death is a weird thing. Something is just...suddenly out of existence. It’s just gone. And you can’t do anything about it. No take backs, no redoes, you’re out of lives. It’s just Over. The worst part about it is that it can happen so suddenly. To anyone. Anywhere. Anytime.

It’s not a feeling you think about often. One he didn’t anyways, until you experience it. Bobby didn’t like to think about death. He didn’t like to think about things being Permanent. It’s something he always tried to ignore. He lived life in the fast lane. Lived it like it was now or never. He didn’t always think about the consequences of his actions and didn’t worry about the last words he spoke to someone because he’d see them once more.

Until he didn’t.

Bobby Wilson’s life was turned upside in one night and not in the way he had initially expected. It was the night. The night that was going to change their lives. They were gonna be legends! Hell, they kind of were. But not in the way Bobby had ever expected.

Reduced to a tragic news article.

And people moved on. They were sad for a few days and then they had the luxury of suddenly no longer giving a shit. Acting like this..this hadn’t changed the entire course of everything Bobby had ever known.

Like Bobby’s whole world hadn’t been ripped clean out of his hands.

His best friends, gone without a chance to say goodbye. No one understood. No one understood why he couldn’t look at a hot dog and not want to sob his eyes out. Why listening to Whitney Houston felt like a punch in the gut. Why he could never pick up another red flannel again. Why an orange beanie made him go pale in the face. No one fucking understood.

What it was like.

To have everything completely gone in a matter of one night. A set of monumental hours. What it’s like to just have seen your best friends and for them to just. Not exist anymore.

When you had just spent hours reassuring a pink hoodie clad boy that he was going to do amazing the night before. When you had stolen his drumsticks and ran around the room, making sure you got laughter out of the tallest of the bunch, making sure his nerves fluttered away like butterflies and his eyes crinkled up into a smile that made life worth living. 

When you just held a puppy reincarnated as a man in your arms, reassuring him that his parents would finally see the worth in music. That life was going to pick up from here, and they were going to play the song they’d slaved over for forever. Letting his friends' words out into the world so everything left unspoken finally got said out loud. That Emily would understand. That his home didn’t have to be Bobby’s dingy little loft anymore.

When you had been hyping yourself up to ask out the beautiful boy all fucking night, the one with raven hair and dark emerald eyes who lights up your world like no one else can. When you were just holding him a few nights before everything went down, singing soft words and comforting him down from the loud yelling he’d just run from. 

When they were suddenly all gone.

All of them. Three of them, in one fucking fell swoop. 

In what world was that fair? What on earth had Bobby done? To deserve something like this. To have this guilt that eats away at him, picking the skin from his limbs and deserting him to the bone. 

That night. They believed he had abandoned him to flirt with some random girl. Saying he didn’t eat hot dogs, couldn’t kill an animal. When really he was planning out the perfect way to ask his best friend out. To have the perfect end to a perfect night. 

He should’ve chickened out. Because at least then he’d be at their side.

But no. Bobby is here right now, the one sole survivor. The angry man who hid pain behind walls he’d spent nights building while going through remnants that remained. 

He remembers the first time he lashed out. He was in the hall, retrieving something from his locker when he heard a group of boys talking. Gossiping. They were amongst those who could just move on. Who couldn’t see Bobby crumbling as they laughed and joked. One of them had the audacity to say “Well that faggot got what he deserved in the end anyways.”

Bobby had tapped the guy’s shoulder, and he didn’t even think before his fist was flying through the air.

That event was just the tiny snowball that started it all. It got it rolling down the hill, collecting more and more snow along the way before it was out of Bobby’s control and causing more damage than he ever thought possible.

Fighting, yelling, screaming, kicking and punching, it provided a small amount of relief. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening with bloodied knuckles and a head pounding. He had so much pent up anger and guilt and no where to put it because the therapist didn’t understand and his parents didn’t understand and no one fucking understood! 

Little things would set him off and the sickening crunch of someone’s nose was the only thing that provided his flooded mind with relief for even just a minute. A second to breathe, a reprieve, one Bobby so desperately desired.

But as punches were thrown and grades dropped and clocks ticked by, the inevitable was still true. While Bobby was caught in the past, the boys were gone and the world was still turning around him. Soon he was forced to look at college applications and make the permanent decision of what his future should be. 

But Bobby didn’t have one. He wasn’t Alex with his words. Able to write the most eloquent of essays in a matter of a short hour and wasn’t the respectable boy who had a future cemented in stone. He wasn’t Reggie, quick with numbers and a brain that he’d never understand. Reggie who pretended to be oblivious but could sniff out what was going on in any situation without you even knowing. Or charming Luke, who could wiggle his way into anything, who took action and was beloved. He didn’t have a future. 

The only thing he had was music and he thought there was no hope. 

With the pressure of his parents to pick something and the deadlines coming closer and closer to apply and the threat of a college debt he’d never pay off because he was bound to wind up working a minimum wage job and be miserable for the rest of his fucking life.

Bobby was left in a vulnerable state, dropped into a ditch dug so deep that he could no longer tell if the sky was something he imagined or if it had always been that dark.

So when a man with a smile and a promise of a future offered the solution to Bobby’s problems, he was easily swayed.

The price of a few songs that would never have seen the light of day and maybe the possible chance of honoring his friends in his own quiet way, as long as he promised to change his identity and pretend they were his, to have something to live for once again. Well..how could Bobby Wilson refuse?

So he signed the contract.

And in doing so he cemented a guilt he never could’ve thought imaginable. 

Not until three boys appeared on the Orpheum stage next to a one Julie Molina, anyways.

[crypticpaw]

Frozen Paws, Frozen Heart

Entrapta X Hordak fic! (with Frosta’s participation)

Author’s note: I’m very, very proud of this fic! I just like writting/drawing Hordak being a parental figure! I really hope you guys like this one! Again, I’m always open to criticism and forgive my bad grammar! Tell me what you thought about it!

WARNINGS: Swearing?? Frosta swears a lot, I think we’re all very aware of that...

Clouds of dust and snow formed where Frosta had run past, zipping through the white, cold landscape, tirelessly chasing the hare. She barked and growled attempting to grab the swift thing with her mouth or paws, but it was always a little out of her reach. Frosta almost fell, making another rough turn, following the hare, surely trying to shake her off. Her little paws ached, having run so fast for so long, but the pup ignored it with a determined look on her face. She was going to catch this damn hare if it was the last thing she did! She barked and barked, as if that would make the hare go slower. The pup had been chasing that thing for three weeks now, and she wasn't about to stop! Until a terrible smell hit her nose. Frosta stopped abruptly, sliding in the snow a little. She fell head-first in the ground, and shook it off her fur and big coat. The hare looked behind it's shoulders, stopping after realising Frosta stopped chasing it, hoping back to her. The pup raised her snout, sniffing the air. The hare raised itself on it's hind legs and sniffed. -You smell it to? -Frosta asked it. It turned to her without an answer. She slowly made her way through the snow, following the smell. She recognised it now, the smell of bitter metal scrap. She recognised it from Entrapta. From the Fright Zone. Frosta ran up a hill to see better and try to make it out where the smell came from, and sure enough: a big, steel tank, with Dryl's crest on it, slowly making it's way through the snowy territory. HER snowy territory! She growled to herself, her fur rising in her neck in anger. What was Entrapta doing in the Northern Reach?! A spark lit in Frosta's head. She remembered Adora reporting to her that Scorpia, Catra and Entrapta had attacked the Northern Reach once, when they still worked for the Horde, looking for tech. As she was about to go after the tank, she saw the lid on top of it open, and out of it, Hordak peeked his head out. Frosta growled even louder. Not thinking, she decided to run for it. As she got close to the tank, she turned to the hare who was still following her. -It's not safe for you! Go back home, I'll meet you there! The hare turned around and hoped back. Frosta climbed up the stairs and on top of the tank, where she slowly opened the lid and peeked inside before falling in. She hit the metal floor head-first, making a loud CLANG. Rubbing her head with her paws, she looked around, examining the inside filled with wires, metal scrap, tools on the floor and a pile of boxes with Dryl's crest. Pointing her nose to the floor, Frosta slowly explored around, leaving a trail of snow behind her. Her ears raised and she turned her head when she heard footsteps behind her. In a panic, she jumped behind the boxes, and hid there. Through a space between her hiding spot, she peeked to see Hordak, wearing a huge and probably very heavy dark blue fur coat, approaching the slid where she fell through. Frosta froze in place and held her breath. She couldn't let him see her! Not because she was scared of Hordak, she wasn't scared of anything! But Frosta didn't want to be thrown out yet. His eyes glowed in the dark. A red light casting on his surroundings, making him look even more monstrous. His steps slowing down as he saw the snow on the floor melting. The cat sniffed around, for sure catching her scent, as his ears drew back and he unsheathed his claws. Frosta gulped. She heard his claws could cut through pure steel. Like all the other princesses, she had heard stories about Hordak before they actually met. He didn't seem so scary up close, but she wasn't ready to find out if his claws hurt or not. He followed her scent, slowly getting closer to her hiding spot, a growl rising deep in his throat. Frosta's ears fell and her tail hid between her legs. Her paw opened as she made a snow ball out of thin air, ready to throw it in his big, scrawny face. As Hordak was about to take another step, there was a chirp from the corridor. A small kitten-bat-monkey-thing-creature flew over to him trilling and chirping, covered in snow. It stopped at his paws and shook the snow off it's little body, revealing a fluffy and wet dark blue sweater, matching Hordak's fur coat. -Aargh! Imp! -Hordak hissed. -Look at the mess you made! Your clothes are soaked! The "Imp"-thingy laughed, it's tail held high. Hordak growled again, drawing his claws back. He nudged the kitten with wings back to the dark corridor and walked with it as it took flight again. Frosta peeked her head out as their steps faded away. Slowly, she comes out from behind the boxes and scoots closer to the wall, following Hordak. The corridor is dark, she can barely see a thing, but manages to follow the cat by his scent and the faint talking from the end of the hall. There's a big room ahead, Frosta can make out more boxes, tools on the ground, computer screens and Entrapta. Sitting on her big pet robot Emily, tapping in some kind of tablet, wearing a hoodie and big ear protectors. As Frosta was about to jump her and ask what she wanted in the Northern Reach, Hordak entered the room, carrying the kitten with wings, in a now dry sweater. Entrapta's ears perked up and she stretched her paws to cradle the cat-thingy against her chest. -You're watching him! -Hordak grumbled. -He decided to go outside to play in the snow and I had to dry him! Entrapta's tail wagged. -Aaww! He just wanted to build a snowman, didn't ya, Imp? The kitten trilled back to her and nuzzled her chest, then turned to Hordak and stuck out his tongue to him. Hordak growled and Entrapta laughed. She wrapped her ear around him and pulled herself closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Hordak nuzzled her cheek, purring. -Blergh! -Frosta gaged. She shouldn't have done that. Imp's folded ears perked up and he sniffed around. A tiny growl rising in his throat, his tail swished as he looked directly where Frosta was hiding. She gulped. Hordak, following Imp's eyes, stepped closer. Entrapta tilted her head, holding Imp close to her, and petting Emily to calm her. The both whined and turned to her, looking for reassurance. -What is it? -she looked at Imp, then at Hordak, then back. -What's wrong? There's nothing there. It's okay. Nobody's here- -AH, YOU PEST!!! Entrapta turned to see Hordak snarling, his face covered in snow, holding a very angry, barking Frosta by her scruff. -Frosta! The pup tried to turn and run, but Hordak's grip on her tightened and Entrapta wrapped her ear around her waist, lifting her upside down. Her big coat fell in front of her face, and she had to slap it away to look at them. -What are you doing here? -she asked excited. -What are YOU doing here?! The Northern Reach is MY territory! -Frosta growled. -Is it? I didn't know that! Last time I was here, it was just unmarked land! -Entrapta said, gently putting Frosta on the ground. -Well, it's marked now! Why did you bring a tank in the middle of the snow anyway? -Our experiments do not concerns you, pup! Hordak towered over her, his ears back. Grumpy as always. Frosta wanted to throw a snowball at him everytime she looked at his stinky face, and it was very tempting to do it again. -This is no place for a child, get out of our tank and go home! -he hissed, walking back to Entrapta. Frosta jumped in front on him and growled, standing between him and the Princess. Who did he think he was?! -No, YOU go home! -she barked. -You came here out of nowhere, without my permission, with a TANK! If you wanted to start another war you could have said it to my face! -Permission?! -he laughed. -We don't need permission from a 9 month old pup! -UH, I'M 11, SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! They both growled loudly at each other. Frosta's neck fur was tingled and Hordak's tail swished from to side, both bearing their teeth. Entrapta pulled Frosta to sit on her lap and rested a ear on Hordak's shoulder. -Sorry about coming out of nowhere, Frosta, we didn't know it was part of your kingdom! -Entrapta pat her on the head gently. -We just need an energy source! Our old one got busted when the Fright Zone was destroyed! -Didn't you get attacked by a bunch of worms? At least, that's what Scorpia said! -Yes! But the energy sources were left intact! As long as we don't wake the worms again, we should be fine! Frosta huffed as she sat down. -Why do you need an energy source anyway? -she crossed her arms. -Are you building another evil weapon?! -Evil weapon! -Entrapta cackled. -Of course not, Frosta! You're so silly! She pat her head again, ruffling her fur, which Frosta had to fix. -What are doing so far from home? This is no place for a pup to be alone by herself! Frosta stuck her nose up and copied his accent. -My exploring does not concern you, BITCH! Hordak hissed. "YOU PEST!!!", Imp echoed Hordak's words back to Frosta and she stuck out her tongue at him. Emily looked around all of them, beeping worriedly. -You know, Frosta, for a puppy your size, you sure have a very extended vocabulary... -I say we wash her dirty mouth with soap! -Hordak growled. -That's what children like her earned for their disrespect, back at the Fright Zone! -I'M GONNA WASH YOUR MOUTH WITH SNOW, MOTHER FUCKER! COME AT ME! -Ok, you both, quit it! -Entrapta barked. She sounded serious this time. -Nobody's gonna come at anybody! And nobody's having their mouth washed! Something behind her started beeping and a little red light started flashing. Entrapta grumbled and tapped at her keyboard, making a bunch of 1s and 0s appear in one of the screens. She turned to Hordak. -I think something in the front motor froze! Hordak, can you go check for me? The cat growled softly out of frustration, his expression some-what hurt... He looked at Entrapta, looked at Frosta, and back at Entrapta. -Fine... -hesitating, he turned to walk away, shooting a nasty side-eye at Frosta. She sticks her middle finger at him as he walks away, complaining to himself. -Ha-ha! -she laughs, victoriously. She turned to Entrapta, who was still taping at her keyboard, more 0s and 1s showing on her screen. She didn't share the same smile Frosta had. -What do you see in that guy? -the she finally asked. -He's my lab partner! -Yeah, but, he's an old... Clone... Bat... Thing! -Appearances aren't everything in a relationship, Frosta. -Entrapta turned to her. -I know that, but... -Frosta tried to think of what to say, but didn't know how to explain herself. She did not like Hordak overall. -I mean... He's Hordak! And you're you! -Yeah, but we get along perfectly! -Entrapta smiled at her. -Our species don't exactly match, but we like the same things, we like to spend time together, our aesthetic is the same like our ideals and our morals! We just... Like each other! -I get why he likes YOU, I don't get why you like HIM! He's always grumpy, and bossy, and saying complicated words... -That's just how he is! I once heard someone say that Glimmer was hot-headed, stubborn, short-tempered and hard to get along with! But that doesn't mean you like her any less, does it? -NO! WHO SAID THAT?! -Frosta stood up and created a fist of hard ice around her paw. -I'M GONNA PUNCH THEIR FACE INTO THEIR SKULL! -NOT the point! -Entrapta gently pushed her paw down, and the pup melted the ice around it. -My point is: Some animals just get along... And other animals don't! -And I guess Hordak doesn't get along with Princeses. -Frosta realised. -Well... Princesses that aren't you! -Maybe... But Adora and Scorpia get along with him! I bet if you spent more time trying to talk to him, and not trying to fight him, you'd get along with him too! Frosta grew quiet, her eyes flew around the room, as she thought to herself. -And, yeah, it's easier for me in a way! -What do you mean? -Frosta tilted her head. -I have a secret! It's the reason why I get along with him so much! -Entrapta winked at her. -What is it?!? -Well... I think... He's really... CUTE! -EEEWWW! Frosta gaged again and Entrapta cackled loudly, hugging her. She blew a raspberry on the pup's cheek, making her laugh and kick her legs. They both smiled at each other. Imp trilled at the corridor and flew over to Hordak as he entered, perching on his shoulders. -The motor is functioning as expected, it was only a small amount of frost. I turned the heater on. -he said. -Are we there yet? -Yeah, are we there yet? -said Frosta. "Are we there yet?" "Are we there yet?" "Are we there yet?", Imp repeated Frosta's voice and she was taken aback by it. -Somewhat! We can't really get in because the entries were destroyed, but maybe we could crawl around the vents! Entrapta eyes twinkled with exciment, her tail wagged. -YOU can crawl around the vents. -Hordak reminded her. He shivered and curled his tail around himself. -I'll wait here if that's acceptable. I do not want to hinder you in our experiment, for I don't do well in the cold. -It's just snow! It's not THAT cold! -Frosta argued. -Maybe for dogs with thick, long fur, like you!  I don't know if you recall this, girl, but I am practicaly furless! -It's okay! I can take Imp and Emily! But we gotta be super quiet! -Entrapta turned to the pets, who chirped and beeped back at her happily. -You guys stay here and take care of the tank together! -WHAT!? No, I wanna come!!! -Frosta whined. -I will not be demoted to pupsitting! -Hordak hissed. -It won't take long, I promise! -she pointed at them with her ears. -Frosta, don't try to fight anything! And Hordak, be nice to the puppy! The both of them exchanged hostile glares. -Yeah, fuck face! Be nice! -One more curse word out of your mouth and I'm shoving you in timeout corner for the next 3 hours! -What did I just said?! -Entrapta barked angrily. She shot a last glance at them before scurrying off to the corridor leading to the exiting lid. As soon as the THUMP of the shutting lid was heard, Hordak went up to the screens and Frosta followed him. They could see Entrapta making her way through the snow, walking off with Imp and Emily. The cat settled down with a longing sigh and Frosta jumped up to sit on the keyboard. She let her paws dangle off the edge, awkwardly looking around, not knowing what to do with herself. He's just sitting there, his eyes stuck in that one screen where Entrapta was before, unmoving, as if he couldn't do anything else. -So... What do we do now...? -We wait. -For how long? -Not very long. It should take her no more than a few minutes or an hour. -An hour?! -she whined. -What am I supposed to do for an hour?! -I don't know! But if you're going to whine the whole time, I suggest you do it elsewhere! Hordak growled at her and she let herself tumble to the side with an annoyed huff. It was less than a minute before she spoke again and the cat turned to her with a frown. -Is there a bathroom in the tank? I need to go! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hordak sat outside in the snow, turned around a few feet away from the small igloo Frosta made for herself as to give her some privacy. The snow so cold beneath him it almost felt like his paws were burning, he put the hood of his coat over his ears, but they still wouldn't warm up and he was worried they would freeze and fall off. His tail curled against him, trembling as he shivered. A small cloud came out of his nose with every breath he took. He heard rustling behind him but kept himself from turning around. -Okay, I'm done! -Frosta trotted up to him. -Good! Let's go back inside, before I freeze to death! Frosta rolled her eyes, and as they walked off, she had an idea. She stopped a little behind him, made a tall snow tower beneath her paws and shot ice through her paws ahead of her, making a long slippery ramp. Hordak stopped and yelped in shock. -What are you doing?! She made a board out of hardened snow and before he could stop her, she pushed herself off. -GERONIMO!!! -FROSTA! NO, NO, GIRL! DON'T! FROSTA!!! She went so fast down, she had to close her eyes, and only opened them again to see the fast approaching, snowy earth. She went head-first into the snow, bounced and fell again, her board shattered as soon as it touched the ground. Frosta tried to get up, but got herself stuck. -You're impossible! Are you trying to get yourself killed?! -Hordak stormed up to her, grabbing her scruff and taking her off the snow. -You better have not broken anything! You crazy dog! -Did you see me?! Did you see what I did?! It was super fun! I went flying! -she exclaimed, shaking the snow off her. -And you also fell! From a dangerously high altitude might I add! -Pffft! That was nothing! I just gotta adjust the slide! -Nothing! Keep telling yourself that! -Hordak growled. -If you are to ever do that again, WHICH YOU WILL NOT, I suggest you better calculate your circumstances! -Calculate...? -she asked. -What's that? -You don't know what "calculate" means...? -Hordak stopped in his tracks and she shook her head. -Well... It means to determine the amount or number of something mathematically. -Ma... The.. Matically...? -Yes. For example, to do what you just did, SAFELY,  -Hordak looked back and pointed at her improvised ramp. -First, you would need to calculate the high of the tower you built, the angle of the ramp and if it has any friction that might interfere with your board, how much you weight and your mass... -That just sounds like a lot of work! -Frosta said, rubbing her head as if she had a headache. -It sounds a lot more than what it actually is! -Hordak kept walking to the tank as she followed him. -It is all but calculation and physics! -Physics...? Hordak's ears perked up at her sudden interest, a small smile on his lips. - A branch of science concerned with the nature and properties of matter and energy! The subject matter of physics, distinguished from that of chemistry and biology, includes mechanics, heat, light and other radiation, sound, electricity, magnetism, the structure of atoms, gravity... -What's gravity?! -Frosta struggled to keep up with him. -Gravity is what causes you to fall. -Like a stumble or a trip? -Yes- no, no! Actually, no. It's a force that pulls you downwards. -Hordak shook his head. -That's why you don't float away like you would out in space. The phenomenon that any two material particles, or bodies, if freed to move, will be exelorated towards each othe- He stopped as his nose bumped on something. That something being Entrapta's own nose. He hadn't even noticed they had already gotten to the tank. -Yuck! -Frosta gaged. Hordak took a step back realizing their proximity, so close if he had held his head a little lower, they would have kissed. He shot a warning glance at Frosta. -Where were you two at? -Entrapta said, her tail wagging and her cheeks blushing. -We came back and didn't find you anywhere! -I needed to go to the bathroom, but there wasn't any in the tank, so we had to go outside, and Hordak kept whining, and I made a super ramp, and Hordak yelled at me, and went so fast I flew off and hit my face in the snow! -Frosta jumped up excitingly, her tail wagging madly as she panted. -Did you? Entrapta turned to Hordak and Imp jumped to his shoulders. -She almost busted her head open! This girl is crazy! -Aaww! Look at you getting all worried about the puppy! -the Princess nuzzled his cheek and he blushed. -W-well, of course! If anything happened to her while we were alone, the Princesses would have blamed it on me! -his tail swished about, tying itself up with one of Entrapta's ears. -But did you find what we were looking for? -Yup! Frosta turned to the other Princess. -Can I see it?!

-Sure! Entrapta led the way back inside the tank, where she rolled a big metal sphere, with coloful glass and constellations-like markings all over it. It was quite beautiful.

-Is that it? -Frosta asked. -How does it work? Entrapta set her on top of Emily as she explained. -You see all these markings that kinda look like starts? -the dog pointed at them with her paw and Frosta nodded. -They light up and make a beaming sound when it's on! Those two holes right there are for cables! This is basically a huge battery, and it charges with the light of the sun! While the light hits it, it builds up energy, and if you plug something into it, it can generate enough energy to use for a MONTH! If we can decode the programing in this, we could create multiples and use their energy! -Woooaah! But why do you need so much energy? -Dryl is expanding, and fast. -Hordak explained. -With all of my brothers moving in, we need more housing, and more housing makes more use of energy. Frosta's ears fell. She thought to herself how all those cats must feel, being brainwashed and then getting their "home" turned into a giant tree in the sky, having to get used to a completely different culture in a completely different planet. -We can go back, now! Frosta, you want a ride home? -Entrapta asked her. -Sure! They left the piece of tech on the floor, going up to the screens again, Entrapta pulled a lever and the tank's motor roared to life. Emily looked up at Frosta and beeped, Frosta smiled and pat the bot, turning to Hordak as she felt the tank move. -So... What were you gonna say before? -she asked, surprisingly shy. -About... gravity? Hordak and Entrapta both turned their heads back, their eyes widen with surprise. Frosta's ears fell, did she do something wrong? -Gravity? -Entrapta exclaimed. -I never thought you'd be interested about that topic, Frosta! -Oh, I was explaining gravity and physics to her on our way back to the tank. She seemed rather confused. They walked up to her and Emily, Entrapta sitting right beside her and Hordak settling near the bot. -Yeah, what IS gravity? Is it like magic? -Oh, no, no! It's the universal force of attraction acting between all matter! All bodies have a weight, or downward force of gravity, proportional to their mass, which Etheria's mass exerts on them! -Entrapta gesture with her paws as Hordak nodded. -Gravity is measured by the acceleration that it gives to freely falling objects! Frosta tilted her head. -So... A force that pulls things to the ground and doesn't let stuff float? -Yeah! That's it! -the Princesses said, in a proud tone. -That sounds a lot like magic! Are you sure it's not just magic? -Yes, we are sure! -Hordak grumbled. -How would YOU know?! -Because even planets without magic have gravity, even completely deserted ones, without any intelligent life form! -the cat explained, as he paced around them. -There's planets out there WITHOUT MAGIC?! -Frosta exclaimed, looking at her paws and back at him. -What a sad life! Entrapta snapped her head around, looking at Frosta with an undignified look, putting her paws on her waist and huffing. Frosta's ears and tail dropped. -Humph! "a sad life"?! -she exclaimed. -I've got no magic and I have the best time ever practically every day, young missy! So does Catra! So does Sea Hawk and so does Bow! -Well, yeah... but... I mean... -"I fucked up!", Frosta thought. -Y-you got your tech and your bots and all... And Catra's super fast! And Bow has his arrows and... Are we SURE Sea Hawk doesn't have any magic?! I still think he's an heir to some kind of fire Princess or something! Entrapta's ears perked up and her eyes widened with realization. She rested her chin on her paw. -You know what... That's actually a very good theory! -Don't encourage her! -Hordak turned back to them as he settled a sleeping Imp on the control pannell. -Why not? Frosta actually might be onto something here! -Entrapta lifted herself and made her way to Hordak on her ears. -What if he IS some kind of great, great, great, great, great grandson to some fire dweller? What if he was just never taught to control his powers? -He is already a menace as he is, Entrapta! -Hordak's tail swished in annoyance. -He doesn't need more reasons to play with fire! Literally speaking! A whole discussion about it escalated between them. As they chit-chatted, Frosta looked at the screens showing the outside of the big metal machine, watching the snow-covered ground pass as the tank drove itself. Her eyes shot open when she noticed a frozen lake outside. -LAKE! -she pointed with her paw and yelled. -FROZEN LAKE! Can we stop to skate on it?! Please, please, please! Her tail wagged madly as she jumped around them. Entrapta looked at the screen Frosta was pointing to and hummed. -Hmmm! Yeah, it could be fun! -she said. -What do you think, lab partner? -You're joking! In this temperature?! Do you WANT our tails falling frozen, Entrapta?! Frosta growled. -Oh come on, Hordikins! Don't be a stick in the mud! -Entrapta nudged his shoulder. -It could be fun! -Pleeeeaaaaaseee! -Frosta whined. -Aargh! Fine! -the cat hissed. -But don't blame me when someone gets hurt! Entrapta laughed. -Nothing's gonna happen! Don't worry! -YEAH! Frosta barked and howled the whole way they got there. As her little legs touched the snow, she bolted straight for the frozen water. She laughed as she skated trhough the ice, spinning around, jumping, going backwards. The two adults lagged behind, their paws needing to get used to the cold snow. -I hate it here...! -Hordak growled. -I can't feel my paws! -We could get you some snow shoes when we get back! -Entrapta said as she rolled around in the snow. -HEY, SLOWPOKES! -Frosta yelled from the lake. -YOU'RE GONNA TAKE LONG THERE?! Hordak growled at the puppy's lack of respect. Entrapta just shook the snow off her fur and hopped over to the side of the lake with the cat following behind her. -Hey, Hordak, have you ever ice-skated before? You should try! It's really fun! -No, thank you! I doubt I could have even stand! -the clone shook his head. -It's not hard when you get the hang of it! -Entrapta flexed her paw so her claws were apparent. -You just gotta use your claws! When you step, instead of putting pressure in your paw pads, you put pressure on your toes, and your claws dig into the ice! That's why it leaves marks! Right, Frosta? The pup stoped in front of them, sitting on the ice, making a THUMP. -Yeah, I guess... -her ears perked up with mischief. -But he's too chicken to do it! Entrapta shot her a reprehending look and Hordak bared his teeth. -Oh, I'm a "chicken", am I?! -he growled. -Well, then! He got up and attempted to step into the ice, slippering. Frosta laughed as he slowly made his way into the frozen water, remembering Entrapta's advice to use his claws, he struggled as he dug too deep into the ice, making his paws stuck. -Yay, Hordikins! -Entrapta cheered him on. As soon as he made himself some-what stable, Frosta ran circles around him, barking teasingly, nipping at his legs and laughing. Hordak growled and hissed, nipping back at her, swipping his paws at her, while trying not to fall at the same time. -Can't get me! -she blew a raspberry. Hordak leaped at her, attempting to grab the puppy, minding his claws, of course! It quickly turned into a game of tag, if you would consider a dog pup against a full grown extremely technologically advanced clone soldier cat with razor sharp red teeth, a fair game. Frosta didn't seem to be having any problems, unlike Hordak. She ran around and pulled on his legs, causing him to fall on his side. -Frosta! Play nice! -Entrapta scolded. As the puppy turned around again, Hordak struggled to get up, she was about to give him another sarcastic comment when she noticed a crack on the ice right in front of him. Frosta opened her mouth to warn him, but he had taken the first step. The ice gave out underneath him and the cat sunk like a rock. -HORDAK! -she heard Entrapta's desperate cry. Frosta ran to him, grabing his collar and trying to pull him out. He was too heavy! He trembled and clawed at the borders in a desperate attempt to get out, but the ice broke at his sudden movements. She felt Entrapta's ears wrap around her and take her off the ground, pulling her back to the snow with Hordak. She refused to let go of his collar, even when they were on safe groud. Entrapta crawled under his chin to support his head, as he couldn't get up and kept shaking. -Hordak, are you okay? Can you stand up? -Entrapta nudged his cheek gently. Frosta looked at her for any kind of signal on what to do, but she could see tears starting to form on the corner of her eyes. -Inside... now... -Hordak coughed in a weak voice. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Frosta stared at Hordak's sleeping form, frozen in place. Guilt burned in her chest, as her ears dropped and her tail hid between her legs. "This is all my fault!", she repeated over, and over in her head. Entrapta had carried him inside and dried him up. Imp and Emily were in an absolute panic. Hordak laid surrounded in heaters, covered with a heavy blanket, cuddled with the winged kitten and the round bot, who were both also asleep. A loud growling sound came from Hordak. "He's probably mad at me!", she thought. Entrapta's paws tapped in the floor as she walked past the pup with a tray of tiny cups of hot cocoa. She set the tray aside and layed beside the clone, wrapping her ears around him and resting her head on his. The growling became louder, and Entrapta wagged her tail. Frosta took a step back and turned to walk out of tank. "I should go home...". -Frosta? She looked back over her shoulder to Entrapta. -Where are you going? -I'm... Going home... -she said in a low voice. -We're gonna take you home. -But why...? -"But why", why? -I thought... -she avoided the Princess' eyes. -You didn't want to talk to me anymore... -Why wouldn't I want to talk to you? -Entrapta raised her head, confused. -Because... Hordak fell in the ice... And it was my fault...! -I wasn't your fault! -she reached out her ears and wrapped them around Frosta again, bringing her close to them. -You couldn't possibly know the ice would break! It was just an accident! -I know, but still... -Frosta looked at Hordak. She couldn't see his face, but the growling sound echoed out off him in waves. -He's gonna be okay! He just needs to rest for a while and warm up! -Entrapta gave her a warm smile. -I just hope he doesn't get pneumonia... The pup looked back at the sleeping clone. Entrapta wasn't the best at comforting others, and Frosta felt even worst when she remembered how worried Entrapta sounded when Hordak fell in the water. Frosta was doing her best to hold back her tears, but it was very clear in her voice that she wanted to cry. And she hated it. -I don't think I want to hate him anymore... -What do you mean, Frosta? -I mean... He destroyed Etheria and... And he killed a bunch of people, but... B-but he was also nice to you... And he rebuilt Salineas... And he... And he was worried about me when I fell on the snow... -she sniffed. -But I should hate him... He did horrible stuff! Shouldn't I...? Entrapta hummed. She rested her chin on her paws she thought to herself. -I'm not good with other dogs, but I know it's hard to change your mind about someone. Especially if already didn't like them before.  -Entrapta held Frosta in a hug, in an attempt to comfort the puppy. -But if they're doing their best to change how they act, maybe you should try to change how you view them too! Like Perfuma always says: "What goes around, comes around!"! -What the fuck does that mean? -I don't know...! Frosta let her tears fall as she looked at her own paws, not knowing what to do to help. Entrapta dried her tears with her ears and planted a small kiss on the pup's head. She nudged the tray to Frosta, who took one of the tiny cups and drinked the hot cocoa. It made her feel a tiny bit better.

I really, really want to know what you guys think about my fics! I feel like I always rush everything, but I’m not the reader! Rebloging always helps!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

OPEN WOUNDS.

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Reader

Anon asked: how about an imagine in which you an ez fight because of emily

Chapter index

Chapter three ; part one

Chapter three ; part two

Word count: 1.9k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. This is the part two of the third chapter, you can find the first part right over here . Gif credits: @angels-reyes.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @wrcn9fvlcver 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Your forearms are supporting on the door, with the open window, resting your cheek there. Closed eyes covered by the sunglasses feeling somewhat relaxed after pass away the welcome sign. Even so, you're pretty excited about meeting this town and meeting other bikers, part of the Mayans family. At the end, they turned you into family too. 

“Teller-Mo—”.

“MAAMAAAAAA”. EZ's voice gets interrupted by another more booming.

Lifting the sunglasses to the roots of your hair, drawing a huge and happy smile on the corner of your lips. As soon  as the car stop, you practically jump off from it to walk fast towards Angel, who is coming with open arms till he have you between them. It's been two days, but it's feels like an eternity. 

“Ezekiel scared me, going to the ranch at night! I thought something bad happened!” You say making some pouts.

“Nah!” He chuckles before letting you go, walking closer to the crew. But you don't see Taza, guessing his in a meeting when EZ carries the backpack inside the clubhouse.

Hugging your boys and being introduced to the Sons', you sit on Angel's lap at the picnic table.

“How was the travel?” Gilly asks having a smoke of his cigar. You shrug.

“I was sleeping till Lost Hills, and then I drove to Stockton. Everything went... good”. You don't want to give it more importance than it really has, but by Angel's gaze you know that he knows his brother screwed up at some points. “Hey, papi, I'm hungry”.

“Oh, really?” The oldest Reyes raise both eyebrows, playing again. That distract him. The guys at the table breaks in laughters.

“Yea'!” You poke his chest with your forefingers.

“Oka', let's find somethen' fo' mama”. Palming your hips to make you get up, he does the same holding your hand with his full of golden rings. “So, wha' did my brother say, ah? Maybe he's the smart one, bu' I'm not stupid”.

“It was nothen', Angel. We were laughing, and he just called me 'baby'. That's all”. He rolls his eyes with a snort, rubbing his forehead. Very typical. “But he took care of me pretty well, you already know how he is”.

He doesn't say anything else about it, leaving back the workshop to find some place where buy you some good food, to regain strength. Whilst he tells you about the party tonight, one of those legendary SOA do with a lot of meat, alcohol, girls and drugs, even if Mayans aren't into this last one more than to sell it. In the end, it's a party and it's gonna help you to calm yourself a little more.

See Taza again, coming back of eating something, makes you fully happy running towards him to be received by his strong arms, pushing you close to him. You missed him, and he did it too. You can feel it pretty well when the man fills your face with a lot of kisses, walking next to Tranq and Bishop.

“All good, kid?” The president asks, giving you a flash hug and leaving a caress on your chin, you nod, being dearly surround by Hank. “If you need to sleep, the Sons' has prepared you a dorm, okay?”

“Good, but I slept in the car. Maybe fo' late”. You reply palming the big guy's chest with a soft smile.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

The guys break in laugh, so you do mixed between Mayans and Sons', lying on Angel's lap with the fifth beer you have drunk in your hands. They're talking about funny and unbelievable anecdotes happened through the years. Having a good time for the first time in many months, being also a little drunk. 

“So, wha'bout my friend Taza and ya', lass? Do ya' have some kink fo' geriatrics or mummies?” Chibs, the SOA president ask, provoking more loud laughs.

“We're more into family stuff”. You shake your head, getting comfy above Angel's leg. “I'm friend of those two shitty guys since ever, they introduce me to the club. And Che and I...” Pursing your lips, you twist a little your neck. “We had a connection. I live with him at the ranch and I take care of the animals”.

“Kinda grandpa, no incest”. The man adds, leaving a caress on your head.

“You're not that old!” You chuckle turning to him for a while.

“And what about your shitty guys?” A young woman walks towards your table, placing her hands on SOA Vice, licking his lips hinting. You raise an eyebrow.

“'Am taken for life”. EZ talks first, without doubting and a firm tone of voice, showing a soft and gently smile.

“But you can take me, bonita”. The tension installed on air for a second disappear when Angel replies, provoking some more laughs, making you getting up so he can have the offered hand by the woman. 

“Com'ere”. Taza says palming his lap, but you shake your head.

“I think it's time to sleep, I'm tired and I drunk enough”.

“Okay, I'll tell you where's your dorm”. He says then throwing his cigar to get up too.

“Good night, guys. Amazing party, president”.

“Whenever ya' need'at, here's your house, lady”. Chibs answers raising his whisky in a soft cheer.

Narrowing one of Bishop's shoulders, you smile at him, before being wrapped by Che guiding you towards the clubhouse. Crossing the hallways, he opens the last door, the furthest room, so that you are not disturbed by noise. Your bag is already there and you also have a bathroom in it, in case you want to take a shower.

“If you need something, call me, okay?” He says holding you into his arms, leaving a kiss on your temple. “It was good having you here. Maybe Bish will let you come with us next time”.

“That would be amazing”.

“Rest, baby girl, you deserve it”.

“Taza”. You say before he can close the main door. “Can you... ask EZ to come?”

He doesn't say anything, staring at you.

“Please... I'm gonna be okay, I promise. He's tired too”. Finally he nods.

You take some advantage, changing your clothes and wearing the SAMCRO big shirt they gave you, 'cause Angel said them that you collect shirts or something like. Everything spins around you, going to the window to open it and let in the fresh air of northern Cali. Getting inside the bed and covering your body with the blankets, you wait for the younger Reyes.

You hear his steps, stopping next to the door for some seconds. Maybe he's doubting. Maybe Che threatened again. But when he opens the door, you get up on your palms between the darkness around the dorm only illuminated by some lights outside.

“I thought you would like to sleep”.

“Yea', but I can sleep in the car”.

You click your tongue, palming the empty side of the bed, before getting comfy on it.

“C'mon, prospect”.

Ezekiel closing the door and walking towards the mattress, gets undressed leaving his clothes on a chair. You make him some space, facing each other above the pillow.

“You drunk too much”.

“Yea', I know... The hangover is gonna fuck me up tomorrow, uh”.

“When was the last time you drunk so much, ah?”

“Dunno'. Three months ago?”

“Yea'course. Sorre'bout that”.

“You hurt me”. You mutter shrugging your shoulders. “But I have so much fun getting drunk with Taza”.

“I'm tryin' fuckin' hard to make it up to you. No matter how much I've to do it”. He says then, pulling away some brists of your hair with a gently touch.

“I know”. And you also know that those words have lifted a huge weight off him.

Ezekiel takes the first step, wrapping your body with his arms to push closer. Your pulse goes fast. You know that something like that could happen, but by the other hand, you weren't expecting. Leaving a sigh out of your lips you surround his neck with yours, hugging you tightly for some seconds as if you didn't see each other in years. And even if you don't want to recognize, its makes you feel somewhat happy again. 

Putting some inches between both, with your heads on their pillow, he has his gaze on yours. His fingertips touring your back softly from top to bottom, once and again, with a calm breath. You're fucking lost in his eyes, as many nights you did before. You could be like that forever with his smell filling your lungs, sinking your face on his neck. Closing your eyes, you let one of your hands travel on his head back and nape in gently caresses, wishing to not fall asleep so fast as always, just to enjoy the intimate moment you two are having. And you know that EZ is fighting against his tiredness to do the same.  

“Do you think... you could forgive me one day?” He soughs then, from nowhere.

Yes, you know you will, but there are open wounds that you don't know how to heal. And maybe he's the one who can take care of them, but, how can you say it? How can you ask him for it? You sigh, resting your dizzy head back to the pillow. 

“You don' have to tell me when it will be”. He adds shrugging. “I just wanna know it to think new plans to bother you, 'cause I'm running out of ideas”.

You chuckle closing your eyes for a second, as he does stirring slightly on the bed.

“I was serious, baby, I'll wait for you all my life”. He mutters leaving a dearly and slow kiss on your forehead.

And you're falling for him again, with those voices inside your mind telling you to keep calm and that you're too drunk to have a clear decision. His lips almost dragging your skin doesn't help, leaving another smooth kiss on the bridge of your nose and another on the tip. Till he reach yours. He just presses them against yours, mildly, inchmeal. Your lips catching his lower in a soft move, tasting him and noticing how much you need him, and how much he needs you.

EZ sighs against your mouth, pulling it away so as not to make you feel pressured. Leaving a last one on your cheek, he pushes you closer ready to sleep for long hours as he couldn't do the last months.

Your phone dings with a notification, making you waking up with a horrible headache hitting your whole body. You growl, palming the bed trying to find Ezekiel. But the mattress is cold and empty. For a second, you think that maybe was an illusion because of the alcohol running through your veins, rolling till your blurry gaze is on the ceiling. Stretching your right arm, you grab your phone unlocking it. But there's nothing on it. Frowning you turn to the nightstand, finding Ez's. You don't want to look. You can't. Even if you know his secret code, it's not your phone. But, shit, you have to look it. Turning on the screen, without moving it, you're able to read the message from an unknown number.

💬: “I have left Miguel”.

[dharmadischarge]

Annunaki chapter 1

"Dying is a wild night and a new road."

– Emily Dickinson

"Love never dies a natural death."

-Anais Nin

"We all float down here."

-Pennywise, the clown.

1

Cynthia "sam" Lynskey: was a chubby, tired librarian. Who had been looking for a fix. "I am in control,"; she wanted to tell herself, yet she knew this was a regret waiting for honesty to validate it. She is standing in the hall of a house, Out in the hills. The lights are grim with heavy shadows. Heavy contrasts of black and glowing gold highlighting whites of skin.

The preacher and his family were squatting in a dilapidated hell-hole they called home (or at least a place of business which, if we were honest, that is kind of what home is). The walls had holes from punches in the plaster with splintering cracks. Roaches that were long-dead sprinkled across the carpet that is piss-yellow from decades of nicotine stains.

A single couch in this room and a stained mattress her eyes are locked onto in the next room. That Sam is uncomfortably familiar with; she was responsible for some of those stains—over six months of talking herself down from sobriety, talking herself down from pride or dignity.

The couch was near the entryway, with a trinity of sleeping, dirt-covered "white trash." One child, the rest could be anywhere from twenty to forty years old. Sam's clean floral dress and translucent scarf aligned her with a world of, "I am fashionable even if it looks like Sunday best for the Walmart crowd."

She was waiting next to the preacher's bedroom, which in her mind meant that she would be eating out his wife tonight. "if I have to fuck two of you," she thought, "then I better get double." Out of a kind of politeness, Sam started to cough, looking at the women sitting on the couch before saying,

"you look good tonight, jenny."

The door opened to a short fat man wearing a black colored button-up shirt and a straw hat fedora before the women could respond.

"Hi, preacher," said Sam.

"hey," he said, standing to the side so she could enter.

Sam walked into the room, anxious and excited. She had been out of her meds for most of the day and agitated at a world that didn't seem to hurt as much as she did. The excitement left, however, when she saw the kid in the corner of the room. He had a nervous smile.

"who's the kid? and why is he here?" Said Sam glaring with evident frustration at the preacher, who didn't seem shaken from her exclamation

.

. "I'm, no fucking kid," The kid's voice shook.

The preacher said, "calm down, boy." then he looked at Sam, "It's his birthday."

and turning red in the face, she whispered, "so?"

"how much you have?"

"Just a twenty? but we had an agreement."

"and we still do, Just it's not me. It's the kid,"

"I'm not a kid,"

"How old is he?"

"he just turned eighteen. Now before this gets any more awkward, James, show her your id."

The kid listened and did what he was told.

"it says July 12. That's today," said Sam.

"You wanted a ladder? I'll give you that and two oxie."

"I want it in advance," Said Sam.

"no." said the preacher, but he reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint. He lit it, taking a hit, holding it out to Sam while he said, "we have a deal?"

She said nothing but took a hit off the joint held it in so long when she finally breathed again. There wasn't all that much smoke. She looked at the kid and held it out to him. His legs were shaking as he walked over to her. Then he sat on the bed.

The preacher said, "I will square it off when you're finished." then left, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed his shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed his neck. "let me see your tits." he said red-eyed. "she didn't say anything but pulled down the front of her dress. Awkward hands fumbling towards violence, pinched, and fished.

"Hey, you're hurting me." said Sam

"shut your face," Said James.

"This isn't working," said Sam, facepalming.

"Hey, come on, I'm sorry." then he stood up, unbuttoning his jeans.

"Just lay down, kid," she said. "I will do the rest."

He lay back, and she took his small sour cock in her mouth and began with eyes closed to fulfill a bargain. And when he was hard, she said, "Let's get this over with." lifted her skirt. Her pussy had stubble where she had shaven it yesterday. She laid back and guided him into her. Her distracted mind was saying, "you pull out, this isn't an all cum served buffet." he went on humping while she covered her eyes with arms. After ten minutes, she felt him squirt it off and then kiss her lips more fragile than she thought him capable of while all evidence of decency was gone when he continued to grope and play with her despite the tears.

Sam wiped his mess off of her, not hiding any disgust, and waited for the preacher to get her pills. The kid gave the preacher deliberate and obvious a self-assured smile and walked out.

"So who was he?" said Sam,

"James? He is my sister's boy. his dad thought he was a queer, and they ask for a favor."

"so what was I? his birthday present?" Said Sam.

"no, can't give away what you don't own; your more like a runt that is almost useless with its mouth taped shut so the fighting dogs can get a taste of blood." Said the preacher.

Hair frazzled, she tried to straighten it up and saw James sitting on the porch's warped stairs. He was smoking a self rolled cigarette; he didn't look at her.

"Those will kill you," she said, going by.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," said James.

"I let you do it, so don't worry about it," said Sam.

Then, as if he was trying to impress her, he looked up to the sky and said, "there are not even any stars, no sir, not tonight."

She got in her car, turning the key, a rough idle than the reverse. She saw him in her headlights, still on the front porch as she drove off into the darkness and was comforted by it.

2

The drive home was pleasant enough — the whitewashed walls of her house revealed itself through the tall grass around it. Sam's life was in the valley, where the mountains glowed on the horizon. With the majority of civilization hidden behind walls of a prison. The privately-owned prison/factories of indentured labor.

"shit," said Sam as she paid closer attention to the lights from the city hiding the stars. Dreamy, stoned eyes and a whisper of "it ain't that bad."

She saw the black cat for the first time while making her way up the creaking stairs of the porch. She did a dance of cracking the door and "shoo, shoo, I got nothing for you." trying to escape from its overt friendliness. The way it tried to rub against her shin as she ascended the stairs. Following her from the first of her "shoo's."

In a magnificent leap, it landed on her back, climbing up her dress, running over her bare shoulder, and leaping as she leaned down to pick up her keys. the door is pushing open as she reached for the black cat, Sam saying softly, "oh, damn it."

She lit the lamp and looking for any glare of reflection in the black cat's eyes, hoping it would give away the location that it was hiding in. She said, "oh fuck you," then Sam exhaled in exasperation. "You can, fucking stay, but I am getting high and going to bed." she locked the front door then went upstairs carrying the lamp to her room.

"Cynthia, why do they call you, Sam?" The voice was scratchy, calm, and with no visible source. Sam sat down the lamp on her end table and went back down the stairs.

"excuse me," she said, looking around.

Then she reached for the drawer that held the revolver; her father had owned before his passing. There she saw the black cat, sitting on the kitchen counter, staring into her eyes out of the darkness, and it started to sing. "jimmy cracked corn, and I don't care. Jimmy cracked corn, and I don't care, the monster's gone away."

Then she saw a spiral of smoke, and the cat was gone.

"Sam?" said a voice behind her. "is this what you were looking for?"

she felt the barrel push against her spine. "Maybe," she said, embarrassed that she had said anything.

The gun pulled away, and she heard a chair drag across the floor beside her.

"Sit down, please." said the voice.

Sam sat down and crossed her arms on the table. Walking casually to the chair opposite her, she saw something not human, but at least humanoid.

"I'll be staying awhile," it said. but was then noticing how wounded she seemed.

"It's for your good," then it held up the gun, and it turned to dust in its hand.

"he laced me with LSD? Didn't he," she said to herself.

"no, I am not a hallucination." said the thing,

"what are you?"

"I am a god or a monster, you could say. I'm not from here. You can call me Teki, and I am a cosmic tourist."

"tourist?" said Sam.

"If you are going to ask a question, you really should ask less ambiguously...for example. What is a cosmic tourist?" after a painfully long silence, he raised his scaly eyebrow and leaned forward as if to say, 'are you serious?'.

Sam, surprised, said, "I'm sorry; I am a little high right now."

"don't let me stop you go on ask your question."

"Why does everyone have to be an asshole, even aliens?"

"Why does everyone have to be an asshole? That is a good question."

Then he held his chin as if in deep thought, rubbing his gill-like whiskers. "maybe that is the core of tourism? I might just be looking for someone to surprise me. someone to make the whole mess worth it" then, clapping his hands together once he said, "it's settled; you will be my new passport."

"So, What does that mean?" said Sam.

"Well, my last one died, so I have been stranded for over a month in this hell hole. looking for his replacement, but luckily I found you."

"Your passport died?"

"My former one, yes, but I am hoping to replace him"

"I am a person, not a passport."

"A passport has to be a person. It is the nature of passports to be conscious and alive. Though your feeble human mind can't comprehend much, that isn't your fault. But alas, there is the downside of traveling to these obscure corners of the zoo. If your passport dies, then well, you are stuck with a serial killer monkey, for forty or fifty years."

"Fuck you."

"oh, come on, you will have a better life than here. Didn't you ever find it strange that a hundred-foot wall surrounded your whole tiny world?"

"well yeah."

"Well, now you get to go beyond the wall! Think about it; there is a universe out there, and not all the stars are artificial like in the zoo."

"can I think about it?"

"no!" he said with a smile.

"your first job is to dispose of this body," he said as he opened the closet door revealing a shriveled grey octopus creature with humanoid legs and eyes.

"Can't you make him disapear? Like you did my dad's gun?" said Sam.

"I could, but this little fella was with me for almost a century, and he deserves a burial."

"you do it."

"I," said Teki, with false pride, "am a God, and we don't do manual labor."

"well, I am tired, and that is just as good a reason," said Sam.

"Well, he doesn't have any bones...let's go burn him in the yard. Just know that your funeral will be just casual."

"he's your friend. Why am I supposed to be sniveling." Said Sam. Teki, in his first sincere moment, looked at her emotionless, and picked up the tentacled creature, and carried him out to the front yard.

After he laid the alien down, a suit appeared over his sexless body, and he solemnly closed his hands together. Him standing in his new funeral attire before his expired passport. With eyes closed. With startling immediacy, he raised his hands and said, "let there be light!" and the dead creature was in flames. Sam sat on the porch for awhile but was told by Teki, "it could take a few hours for this guy to cook down. You get some rest, and I will see you in the morning." So that is what she did, curled up under her quilt. She thought about how she would kick the preacher's ass for lacing her drugs with hallucinogenics.

[starshineandbooks]

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces. 

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

   Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

   Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

   The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

   “Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

   Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

   “HELP ME!” It rings again.

   A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

   The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

   Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they’re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

   Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

   He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

   Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

   Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

   Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

   “Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

   “You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

   “That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

   Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

   “Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

   “Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

   Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

   “Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

   “Get up.”

   Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

   “Then get up!”

   “It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

   “Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

   Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

   What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

   God, what will he tell Thomas?

   “Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

   “Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

   But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

   “Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

   Except that.

   How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

   “Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

   Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

   A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

   Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

   “Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

   Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

   “Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

   Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

   May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

   Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

   “Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

   And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

   The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

   “‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

   “Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

   She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

   “Don’ let them be too sa-”

   “Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

   Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

   And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

   “Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

   Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

   And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

   Then, “Vatti?”

   A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

   As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

   Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

   “Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

   “Mamaw-”

   “Upstairs Linda Marie.”

   Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

   “He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

   “Mamaw-”

   “Now. One.”

   “But-”

   “Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

   “I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

   Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

   “What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

   “The truth, I’d imagine.”

   “You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of  faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

   “So he was.”

   “I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

   May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

   “We’ll see you hag.”

   “Shuddup.” May scoffs.

   And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

   ----------

   Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

   “Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

   Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

   “Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

   “We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

   “Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

   Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

   “He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

   Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

   “Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

   A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

   To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

   “Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

   “I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

   “We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

   “But-”

   “I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

   “Virgil-”

   Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

   “We-”

   “You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

   “Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

   May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

   ----------

   Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

   “Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

   “I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

   Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

   “Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

   “They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

   Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

   “Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

   Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

   “Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

   “How are you so-”

   “Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

   “O-oh.”

   “I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

   Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

   “I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

   “Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

   Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

   “It wasn’t your fault.”

   “You can’t know that!”

   “I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

   “I’m still sorry.”

   Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

   He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

   “Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

   “Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

   “We- was he in pain.”

   Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

   “He was-” Dot swallows hard.

   “Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

   “You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

   “I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

   “O-oh.”

   “Hey uhm….” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

   “But-”

   “You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

   “But.”

   “You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

   “Thomas-”

   “Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

   Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

   “Go.”

   ----------

   Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

   Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

   Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

   He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

   Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

   Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

   “C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

   Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

   “Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

   “No.” Virgil says, “No.”

   “Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

   “No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

   “But- what about daddy and pop?”

   “Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

   “O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

   “Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

   “I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

   Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

   “Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

   “I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

   ----------

   Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

   It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

   Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

   As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

   He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

   “Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

   “I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

   “You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

   “You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

   “I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

   Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

   Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

   Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

   “It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

   “I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

   “What?”

   “I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

   “Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

   “I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

   “Maybe.”

   “Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

   Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

   Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

   “O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

   “Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

   Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

   “Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

   “I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

   “Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

   “Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

   “Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

   “YEAH?!”

   “C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

   She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

   “Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

   “Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

   “I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

   “Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

   Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

   “I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

   “Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

   “Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

   Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

   And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

   Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

   Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

   Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

   Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

   Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

   Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

   May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

   Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

   Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

   Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

   Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

   Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

[whump-town]

Here are some mini fics I have but lack the stability to create into full fics ( @clockedstar​ idea tasteuflly thrown in, as well) Warning for language (I have a potty mouth)

The Perfect Match

He’d promised and like everything good in his life he’d messed that up too. 

He’d promised and alone she had gone to her mother’s gala in Washington D.C. With him nowhere by her side, she spends hours rejecting the advances of too many men to count. Some, she knows, are sent by her mother. Aaron Hotchner is a good man but her mother suspects she can do better-- more political, is what she means. A man who is there more and a man whose face isn’t constantly decorated with bruises and cuts from his dangerous job. 

A man likely to survive long enough to retire.

And, what she loves most about him, is that he’s hours late and the gala is really over but he still comes.

He’s in a dirty suit and a white t-shirt that will never come clean in the wash. None of that matters. The men around him are in their best tuxedos and his hair hasn’t been combed in days. Still, the moment he sees her he cracks the biggest smile and buries his face in her bare shoulder. 

“You look stunning,” he compliments, shaking his head. Red is her color. So is green and blue and he'll remind her this tell the day he dies, because every color is her color. 

The crimson of her dress matches the blood caked to his skin. The blood staining his t-shirt. He’ll tell her later that it’s nothing too serious and when her fingers tear down his shield, and unbutton his shirt, she’ll find a cut right over his heart. 

For now, she runs her hand up the back of his neck, further messing up his hair. She likes this look. Not the bruises and the exhaustion she can read across his shoulders but the way he makes her feel home. The way his skin melts into hers and they’re just one person tangled in this impossible mess. 

She kisses his jaw, “you look like shit.” Just over his shoulder is a ballroom of younger men. Men who have more money and more time and who don’t smell like they haven’t showered in days. Men who have skin unmarked by serial killers and minds that don’t trick them at night. In her arms, though, is the only man she wants. The only man she has eyes for.

He chuckles, withdrawing himself from her hold enough to be able to look into her eyes.  

She knows his body better than he does. The glint in his eyes that says he loves her and he’s sorry and fuck, he wants to go home and curl into bed and forget this week he’s had. So she wraps her arm around his hips and pulls him close, whispering temptation into his ear about what she might do to him later. Knowing damn well that he’ll fall asleep the moment his head hits the pillow but it makes him blush and that’s all she wanted anyways.

Arms circling one another, they walk out side-by-side. 

He looks like he’s been run over by car. Covered in bruises and dried blood and a suit that’s ruined. While her hair bounces in it’s perfect curls and each step she takes is measured by her ballgown’s soft whoosh and her heels tapping along the marble floor. 

The perfect match.

Habits

Stoic, cold, and removed.

Everyday she hears the office throw these words at his back. She won’t waste her breath denying that he’s anything but. Because everyday he comes home and she undoes those web of lies. And how could they know any better? His coping mechanism is to shut down and it’s always worked… well, mostly.

If only they could see him in the depths of one of his many rants. Walking about their kitchen in nothing but his boxers, that character defining scowl slapping inplace as he tells her about social injustice. As he rants and raves until his heart is content. It’s into her arms that he tucks himself when he’s cooled off and resigned to the fact that no matter what they do, it will never be enough.

Aaron Hotchner wants to save the world but what can you do for a world unwilling to save itself?

He likes to spend Saturdays tucked away. In those early mornings he’s nearly successfully hiding himself from the whole world, only coming out for snacks and the need to be hugged every once in a while. Because he’s so tactile in his love. 

She doesn’t know what it’s like to cook without him standing over her. Hovering and talking and touching her shoulders or her hips because she can spend a whole day doing nothing but holding him and the moment she pulls away he’ll come with her, seeking more.

And people will ask her about their love.

Mistaking him as cruel and cold-- even their friends. It’s so hard to conceive him as anything but Agent Hotchner. 

But she loves him as Agent Hotchner and as Hotch and as Aaron. 

It breaks her heart to know that others don’t get to see him ranting like a nut in the middle of the night. His latest infatuation clutched in his hand. He’s loving and stark raving mad. But she wouldn’t trade those midnight rants for anything in the world. 

They won’t know that he sleeps on his stomach, half-rolled overtop her. That he likes to be held and he’s much to big for that but she holds him anyways. There is so much that they just don’t know.

He likes it when she scratches his back and if she rocks her body, it’ll put him to sleep right where he stands. That he has an entire library filled with books he’s collected and read over and over since he was in middle school. He gives her book recommendations-- just a simple book on her nightstand and a stick-note giving his own description of the book. 

He’s thoughtful and he’s kind and he’s so fucking aggravating.

He loves winter and she loves summer. 

He hates laying in a blanket but is always cold.

He likes to go walking in the snow and always forgets a hat. 

He’s prone to ear infections but refuses to take medicine for them.

He’s the most aggravating man she’s ever met. It’s unnecessary to die on the hills he’s firmly plants himself on and yet she finds herself crawling back for more. She loves nothing as much as she loves when he presses his face to her neck and wraps his body around her. She loves that he’s able to cry in the safety of her arms and that he laughs without abandon about the stupidest things.

But, God, she loves him.

Mirror

With all the gentleness she can manage, she brushes a tear away from his eyes. “Look at me,” she commands, softly. For years, and days, and cases, and excruciating long hours--- God, she just wants him to look at her. To be seen in that way he analyzes the whole world. For his soft eyes to see her as she is and trust her. To let her be this person. The person who puts him back together and takes him apart and reads him like her favoirte book.

Because he’s her favorite person.

“I can’t,” his voice breaks and he pushes his head back against her skin. 

He’s horrible. Mangled. The world has picked him up and damaged him so many times that he.... He fucks her in the dark with a shirt on. He only looks in the mirror if it’s fogged from the shower. He’s learned to shave by touch and not sight. Because he can’t-- he can’t look at himself. He can’t stand the sight of his own face so how is he supposed to expect her to?

Her lips find his and no matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut, the tears still fall. Because she could do better. Emily Prentiss has seduced men around the world. She could have a dictator or a millionaire and here she sits, instead. With him.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips. “I love you.” And it doesn’t matter how many times she has to say it. She’ll remind him until spring and until his hair has grown white and with her dying breath-- “I love you.” 

And one day, he’ll realize she means it.

The Chains

There’s a single terrified scream that rings out through the room. For a moment, she mistakes it as her own plagued dreams. Sitting up she combs her fingers through her hair. Pushing flyaway strands of hair back out of her face. It takes her too long to realize it has nothing to do with her own dreams. 

“Aaron!” 

He’s crying out, thrashing in his panic to get untangled from the sheets. 

“Shh,” she has to dodge his quick, uncoordinated blows. If he hits her, she doesn’t feel it because what she’s worried about is the terrified screams leaving his mouth as he keeps trying to push away whatever he’s imagining. “Aaron,” she calls out. “Aaron wake up!”

He falls to the floor, moving himself until he hits the wall behind him. 

She tries to follow.

“No!” His shaking hands are raised between them. “No, please.” His chest is heaving, his face flushed. “Don’t touch me,” he pleads. “I don’t want to hurt you too.”

He’d done it. Snapped. Broken like his father had always said. Good for nothing--- and he’d found them all. Hunched over and begging and pleading and please stop, Hotch. Don’t! He’d held Jack’s broken body in his arms. Wilted and limp. He’d taken the life of his own son and then he’d turned and done it again and again---

“Please,” he sobs, blood still warm and wet on his hands. He forces himself to his feet, shaking so bad he falls back to his knees. “I’ll-- I’ll sleep on the couch.” He can still hear Morgan’s shout, the other man trying to pull him off of Dave. He can feel his split knuckles and the blood on his wrist, the look of horror on JJ’s face.

He’d killed them.

“Aaron,” Emily breathes, moving swiftly to palace herself between the door and him. “Stop--” she doesn’t touch him. She’s afraid of the noise that might tear out of his mouth if she does. “Stop,” she says, this time voice unwavering and calm. 

He’s not here. Not well or centered. “Get out,” he whispers, rubbing his hands down his pants. “Get out!” He throws his body forward and she’d be more afraid if she actually thought he might hit her. But the anger he means to throw at her is just fear. “Get out! Get out, please!”

So, she leaves. She caves.

As she shuts their bedroom door, she sits herself down on the floor. “I’ll be right here,” she says. “I’ll be here if you need me Aaron.” 

She can hear him pacing in the room. He sobs brokenly.

“Just breathe, baby.” She places her hand against the door, wishing she could be in there. He’d calm down if she could hold him. To reign him back down. “You’re okay,” she reminds him. “It was just a  dream. No matter how real it seemed. You’re okay. I’m okay.” It’s a stream of conscious thoughts that she just lets fall out of her mouth. “It was just a dream, Aaron.”

But he can’t wash their blood off his hands. 

“-- there's no way you could forget but do you remember when we tried to do it in the hammock?” She hasn’t stopped talking in… whenever it was that they parted ways. Her soft voice has been trickling through the room the whole time. The only real thing he can identify. “To be fair,” she says, “I didn’t think we’d end up in the hospital because of that.” 

His first ever sex injury. She’d been a mix of embarrassed, so very sorry, and proud. They were trying something new! No reason to be ashamed of that!

“I just remember looking at you in that hospital bed and thinking about how totally in love I was.” She leans her head back against the door. “Well, I was also thinking about how if we just lowered it a little more, you could hold the hammock steady and I could be on top--” she shakes her head. “Not the point.”

He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, lowering himself to the floor. He slowly inches closer to the door until his head is leaning against the frame, too. Until he’s as close as he can be… without putting her in danger. In danger of being close to him. 

“I just…” she sighs. “I don’t know if you’ve fallen asleep yet but, if you’re awake, I need you to know that I love you, Aaron.”

He shuts his eyes against the tears threatening to fall.

“I love you so much and when you’re okay, when you’re ready, I’m gonna hold you for so long.” She sniffles, wiping away the tear that falls down her cheek.  “I mean it,” she says. “You’re going to be so tired of me you’ll beg me to let you go but I won’t.” She smiles, “and we’ll just have to stay like that forever.”

It makes him smile. 

“I love you,” she repeats once again. “I mean that.”

She runs out of things to talk about around four in the morning. He’s stopped moving around the room and her curiosity gets the best of her. Knees giving heavy protests, she climbs to her feet. She hesitates before she opens the door. If he’s sleeping she doesn’t want to wake him but she also doesn’t want to come in if he’s not ready.

“Aaron?” She cracks the door open and frowns when she sees the bed’s empty. “Where--” she almost kicks him. 

He stirs when she stops, having made a soft noise in her surprise. Blinking slowly he looks up at her, wincing at the light coming from the hall. Where she expects some trepidation or maybe fear she finds nothing but soft vulnerability. “Did you mean it?” he asks, eyes slivers.

It takes her a moment to understand what he’s asking. Without a word passed between them, she pulls the comforter off of their bed. Settling down on the floor beside him she pulls the blanket around both of them. “You mean cuddling you until we both die?”

He smirks and presses his face into her neck. 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “There’s nothing I would rather spend my life doing.”