#i really love it out here but im typically a city guy so. it feels very strange being so middle of nowhere

[homestuckreplay]

A Stitch In Time Doesn't Save Anything When Eggs And Biscuits Are Around

(page 1248-1257)

I have arrived in rural upstate New York, Rose Lalonde’s homeland. There’s snow here and it looks just like Homestuck page 441. @tenaciouschronicler said a couple weeks ago how we need cultural insights from people who live close by to the other kids so I am here doing my part. (my being here was already planned for non-Homestuck reasons but the timing was excellent). I���d love to figure out why exactly Rose is like she is but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion she’d be weird in any place.

Clubs Deuce continues to be a delight in how the Felt see him as a ‘criminal mastermind’ (p.1249). The inter-gang dynamics are definitely interesting; with the Felt’s sixteen members and incredible spacetime powers, there have to be good reasons why they see the Midnight Crew’s mostly nonmagical four members as a major threat to their operations, and why they can’t or don’t just kill them all. It could be that they’re the only two gangs around and they need to keep each other entertained, but the idea that the Felt are all terrified of Deuce’s massive intellect and volatile bomb hats is a much funnier answer.

I am also suspicious why the ‘gorgeous clock’ Deuce found (p.1250) isn’t ticking, because of how it’s drawn attention to. The clock is stuck at ten past ten, easily the most classic time for a clock to be stuck at, just like the advice for driving a car. I’m guessing this clock belongs to a Felt member we haven’t seen yet and is part of their powers; my guess is Snowman, who almost certainly has the power to freeze time in a single moment.

Meanwhile, Eggs and Biscuits continue to be ridiculous. In fact, they’re apparently ‘way too dumb to maintain even elementary looping stability for more than a couple iterations’ which is very interesting – we’ve seen our stable timeloops with Trace and Fin, and now we’re going to see what happens when things go wrong. As the beta kids have only been part of stable timeloops (presumably; in the story so far) this is new and exciting territory. And the only Felt member who can help detangle the time loops is conveniently already dead, taking away that quick fix.

I want to know more about Clover and his ‘clever TIME RIDDLES’ (p.1252) – perhaps his powers are based on information and wordplay, questions that have to be answered at the right time or differently in different timelines? Clearly I wasn’t the only person to suspect a 4:13 password for this vault, as it’s referenced in the reader command ‘Waste exactly four hours on this tomfoolery’ (p.1251), and it’s the exact time on Clover’s panel. So 4:13 is only important on Earth and in the Incipisphere, and on this planet it means nothing? I am so lost without my special time number.

As for this Cairo Overcoat, it’s an absolute eyesore in its flashing gif form, rotating through all the pool ball colors at once (including the 8 ball, but not including the cue ball, which Lord English presumably represents). It looks pretty cool as a PNG though. I would wear this if it had a dark gray or blue base instead of the lime green. Having a specific member to take care of all the backup coats, hats and effigies is in theory a smart move on the Felt’s part, as opposed to the Midnight Crew each managing their own backups. Not that Stitch is having much luck right now. Eggs and Biscuits are probably helping the Midnight Crew more than hurting, as Stitch is so preoccupied fixing holes in the Cairo Overcoat that he’s failing to get to the other members’ effigies on time. No wonder he looks so cranky and mean. I’m also curious on if he has an effigy of himself, how that even works, and what’s going on with this intermission’s general theme of effigies, backups, copies and multiplicity.

Also if something happens to Stitch and that overcoat gets destroyed, do time and space just cease to function or something? Is that how this intermission ends, is that Slick’s hard won prize for taking care of the Felt once and for all, and is that something he wants (time travel isn’t possible without time, after all) or something he’s unaware of??

All in all these were shorter updates – first single digit page ones in a while – but Clover and Stitch might be the most interesting Felt members so far, and the ones I most want to learn more about, so I’m definitely not complaining.

[atlabeth]

dance until we're bones

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem reader

summary: you and hotch both confront a lifetime of things left unsaid when a case forces your past into the light.

a/n: so i started this. two years ago. got 1k in and left it, came back now for some reason, wrote like a freak until it was done. lol. this is quite heavy and different than most things i usually write and it is SO much longer than expected but im very proud of it 🫶 i didn't really pay attention to the canon timeline so just know that reader and hotch were in their early and late 20s in law school (90s) and early and late 30s in present day (early 2000s). title from i lied by lord huron and allison ponthier

wc: 17.2k

warning(s): a lot of angst. typical bau case stuff, murder (familicide), implied/referenced past child abuse, reader and hotch go at it basically the whole time, character death, kidnapping, slight mention of drugging, injuries, mentions of blood. i wouldn’t say a happy ending but a hopeful one

Hotch can barely stay awake. 

He got the call thirty minutes to 4 a.m, and if he hadn’t already been up, he would likely be in a much worse mood. He can only hope that the rest of the team has gotten used to rude awakenings at this point. 

It’s poor planning on his part—he already got out late due to extra paperwork, and once he got home, he found himself staring at the wall, and then staring at the ceiling. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to sleep on the jet. If things go the way they usually do, he won’t be out until their first night in a hotel. 

He started making calls to the team on his way to the office, but to no one’s surprise, he was the first one there. He had time to wash down a shitty office coffee and get started on a second one by the time everyone’s there. 

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ all have coffees—JJ comes prepared with her own thermos, but Morgan and Prentiss fall victim to the BAU’s supply—Reid is fighting back yawns as he tries to fix a hastily made tie, Garcia is slightly less energetic than normal as she passes out files, and somehow Rossi looks the same as always. 

Hotch just hopes he’s put together enough to make the team feel better about being here at an ungodly hour. 

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Garcia greets, setting down the last folder in front of Reid before taking her spot next to Hotch at the front. “As lovely as it is to see all of you this morning, I’m afraid that we’ve got a grisly one on our hands, hence the hour.” 

“Great,” Prentiss mutters. “How bad is it?” 

“Three married couples have been murdered in St. Louis, Missouri in the past two months, with the most recent one happening yesterday,” Hotch says, and Garcia grimaces as she clicks onto the pictures. “Mom and dad are killed, but the children are spared.”

“Awful lot of similarities between the parents,” Morgan says dryly as he flips through the folder. “Looks like our killer has some family issues.” 

Reid nods. “The unsub likely stalks these families once they see the similarities. I’m guessing he was abused as a child, seeing as they kill the parents but keep the children alive.”

“Probably has a grudge against his father,” Prentiss remarks. “They make it out the worst every time.”

“There’s no method to the torture,” Morgan says. “It looks like he’s just trying to make it hurt as much as possible.” 

“Our guy probably isn’t trained in anything, then,” Rossi says. 

Reid flips to another page in the file. “Serial killers like to see their victims suffer. If he’s not torturing the mom physically, then he’s likely making her watch.”

“He doesn’t kill children, though,” JJ notes. 

“Maybe he thinks he’s doing them a favor,” Reid says. 

“The unsub sees himself in the kids?” Morgan suggests. “He’s doing what he didn’t get the chance to do.” 

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a tight hold on this,” JJ says. “The press eats this stuff up, and the last thing we need is a terrified city making it harder to do our jobs.”

“Especially with families being killed,” Morgan murmurs. 

JJ sighs. “I’ll draft something on the jet and make some calls when we land.” 

Hotch nods and he closes his file. “Wheels up in thirty. I hope you’re all ready for a long day.” 

-

The jet is silent the entire way to Missouri, full of sleeping agents trying to delay the inevitable—save for JJ scribbling down notes on a legal pad for the first thirty minutes, but even she knocks out sooner rather than later. Thankfully, Hotch manages to fit an hour in himself, though it doesn’t do very much for him. He spends the rest of the time reading through the case file. 

The team settles in quickly at the city’s precinct, and Hotch takes charge as usual. The uniforms are just as tired as they are, but he makes it work. Soon enough, JJ is off to work with the local liaison to craft a narrative, Reid has situated himself in an empty conference room to get to work analyzing maps with Garcia, and Hotch and the rest go to check out the crime scene. 

It’s brutal—much too brutal for this early, but Hotch forces the emotions out of it and gets to work questioning the present officers. Morgan follows suit, with Prentiss and Rossi going to investigate the rest of the house. 

They don’t learn much from the officers that they don’t already know. This is the most recent crime scene—George and Marsha Springfield, undeserving of such a grisly fate. Their two kids, 8 and 9, were off visiting their grandparents in Nebraska when it happened, and though they avoided the same fate, they’re going to deal with a lifetime of guilt. 

It’s all Hotch can think about as he examines the first body. The six children left to deal with the carnage, about their past and future marred against their control. 

All he can think about is Jack, and the dreary fate that awaits him if his father falls in the field.  

Hotch swallows his doubt and his guilt all in one and forces every thought out of his mind. He has to be unshakable for the team, for what’s left of these families, for a city on the brink of hysterics. 

They’ll find whoever did this. That’s what gets him through it. 

They spent early morning at the crime scene, collecting evidence and gathering information from the officers and trying to make sense of the killer’s motive. Progress is slow, partially because of the hour, but they make enough that Hotch feels comfortable moving onto the next job.

Their four a.m. start time was too early to go knock on doors and get interviews, but now it’s a more normal 10 in the morning. After a quick stop back at the station to share information with Reid, Garcia, and JJ and down a few cups of coffee, they get right back on the road.  

Hotch and Prentiss take one van and Morgan and Rossi take the other, splitting up to get what they can from interviews. It’s difficult working with kids, especially with such recent trauma, so they hold off on it for now, allowing the local uniforms that have been with them for a bit longer to set things up before the BAU tries anything. 

First they go to a neighbor’s house, then an alleged eye witness. They don’t get much other than personality reads, but it at least gives them the beginnings of a profile. The third place they hit is their earliest idea of a suspect. 

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss reads off the file one of the local officers had put together. “Thirty-nine, born and raised in St. Charles, Missouri. High school degree, but never got to college because he was in and out of jail.” 

“What has he been charged for?” 

“Booked a few times for public intoxication and convicted three times for assault. Once was for third-degree assault, Missouri’s version of aggravated assault,” she says. “He got out of jail a little less than a year ago, and it looks like he’s been living in St. Louis for some of that.”

“Assault and drinking is a far cry from serial killing, even aggravated,” Hotch says. “What makes him a suspect?”

“Both parents are dead,” she says. “And from the looks of it, it was not a happy home while they were around. He’s got a sister, so it fits the initial theory of trying to replicate his family.”

Hotch lets out a loose breath and nods. “We’ll start there. Try and get a story from this guy, build a profile, see if it matches the one Morgan and Rossi have made for their guy.”

“And hope we pin something down before more bodies show up,” Prentiss murmurs. 

They’re at their destination soon enough, and Hotch parks in an open spot on the other side of the road. His eyes dart around as they walk up to the front door, filing things away in the back of his mind. 

The house number and last name—1432, Hartford—on the mailbox plagued with rotting wood. What there is of a yard is poorly cut, and a small garden of wilted flowers has their own corner, victims of the winter weather. One car is parked slightly crooked in a small driveway—there’s no garage, so at least he’s probably home. Two potted plants sit on either side of the door, thankfully alive. 

“Remember,” Prentiss says as they come to a stop together, “be nice.” 

“I’m plenty nice,” he murmurs, and she huffs the slightest laugh. 

Hotch knocks on the door as Prentiss fishes around for her ID, and thankfully, they don’t wait long. The door cracks open after a few seconds to reveal a woman—certainly not their unsub, but something a whole lot more surprising. 

You.

Your brows furrow at the sight of him, and Hotch has to hold back his shock. 

You don’t live in St. Louis. And your last name certainly isn’t Hartford. 

“Aaron?” you ask in disbelief, and he doesn’t even have to look at Prentiss to know the questions he’s going to get later.

He says your name, able to control his surprise with only the slightest crease of his brows giving it away, then corrects himself just as quickly. “Miss Hartford. My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, and this is SSA Emily Prentiss. We’re here with the FBI.” 

Your frown deepens as they show their IDs, and you actually take it from Hotch, skeptical eyes scanning over it for much too long. You glance back at him as you hand it back over. “What is the FBI doing here?” 

Emily clears her throat as she puts her credentials away. “We’re here investigating the latest murders in St. Louis. Can we come in?”

“The murders?” you ask with exasperation. “What— what murders? And what do I have to do with them?” 

Aaron notices the way your grip tightens on the door just the slightest bit, and a shred of sympathy strikes him before he speaks up.

“We’ll be able to explain everything if you let us in,” he says. 

You swallow thickly in your throat, your gaze darting back to Aaron before you finally nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?”

You move and Hotch and Prentiss walk inside, gesturing with a hand towards your living room as you shut and lock the door behind them. “Take a seat. Uh— do you guys need anything? Water, or coffee, or…” 

You trail off, and Prentiss shakes her head. “Thank you, but that’s not needed.” She takes a seat on the sofa, but Hotch can’t stop himself from looking around the house. 

It’s a small place, one story—likely rented, seeing how paintings sit on countertops and mantels rather than hanging on the wall. It has a certain charm to it, but something is off about it all. 

Two styles clash—decorative pillows at odds with a filled and painted-over hole in the wall, an attempt at neutral tones ruined by dark articles of clothing scattered around, one person’s mess barely being held back by another’s cleaning efforts. You lived with someone else. Likely Lucas Hartford, possibly their unsub. 

“Are you gonna sit down, Aaron?” you ask, snapping him out of his profiling haze. “Or do you want to look around some more?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat as he walks over and sits down in an open chair near Prentiss. “Just curious.” 

“That makes two of us,” you say, and you cross your arms as you look at him. He notices that you don’t sit down yourself, and there’s still a coldness in your eyes. “You’re FBI now?” 

He nods. “I had a change of heart.” 

You huff a laugh. “Thought at least one of us would be a lawyer by now. I guess not.” 

Hotch frowns, but Prentiss takes over before he can continue on that particular thread. “Miss Hartford—”

You interrupt by saying your first name, and it spurns something strange in his chest. It’s been over a decade since he’s heard your voice. “You can skip the formalities.” 

Prentiss nods and repeats your name. “As you know, we’re investigating the murders that have been occuring in the St. Louis area.” 

“And you think I have something to do with it?” you ask, the accusatory edge to your voice not lost on him. 

“Not you,” Hotch says. “Do you know a Lucas Hartford?”

“He’s my brother,” you say, and your frown deepens. “You’re not saying—”

“No,” Prentiss interrupts, “we’re not saying anything. We’re just asking.”

And just like that, your entire stance, your visage, it all changes. Hotch can sense the walls slamming up around you, and he immediately realizes two things: 

Getting information out of you is going to be much harder than planned, and you’re not anywhere near the same person you used to be. 

Hotch doesn’t know what he expects, really. He graduated with the intent to prosecute for at least a decade—now, he’s with the BAU. It’s not fair to assume you’re that same girl he met in law school. 

“My brother is not a murderer,” you state clearly.

“And we aren’t accusing him or you of anything—” she starts. 

“Me?” you interrupt, and you let out a harsh laugh. “I’m a suspect too?”

“If you would allow Agent Prentiss to finish her sentences, you would be less upset,” Hotch says. 

You glower at him, but you stay silent. 

“We aren’t accusing either of you of anything,” Prentiss finishes. “We’re just trying to gather information with what little we know.” 

“I know my rights,” you say, unflinching gaze still meeting Hotch’s. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Prentiss looks at him as well, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “That’s unfortunate to hear, Miss Hartford.”

“You know my name, Aaron. Use it.”

He does, and the letters feel strange on his tongue after so long. “This is a serious matter. This isn’t an accusation—we’re in the early days of this case and we need all the information we can get.” 

“Ask away,” you say. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” 

“Lucas Hartford,” Prentiss starts. “He’s your brother?” 

You nod. “He lives with me.” 

He lives with me, not we live together. Makes him think that you pay for the place, he came knocking, and you didn’t have the heart to turn him away. 

“Why is that?” Hotch asks. 

You look at him, those scrutinizing eyes attempting to peer into his soul the same way they did all those years ago. But Hotch has changed since law school, and he’s much better at guarding his emotions. It seems you are, too. 

“He’s a student,” you finally say. “He goes to community college. I’m giving him a place to live while he gets his associate’s.”  

“Community college and living with his younger sister at 39?” Prentiss is trying to get information out of you, even if it isn’t in the kindest way. Your jaw clenches, and he knows her words have some effect. You’ve probably heard it more than once, the way things are going. 

“He’s getting his life back on track,” you say defensively. “I’m the only one left that can help him, so I am.” 

“What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’re a better option than this.” 

“Both dead,” you answer. “And no one else cares enough to help him. Are you here to do anything other than dig up my past?” 

Hotch feels Prentiss’s eyes on him, likely because it’s a step in the right direction for a really shitty reason, but he can’t look away from you. 

“Really?” 

He knows your parents are dead—it was in your brother’s profile, and by extension it applies to you—but it still hits him. 

He met your mother, had countless lunches and dinners with her. Helped her move out of her old house. Spent two Thanksgivings and a Christmas with her. 

And he didn’t even know when she died. 

You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself, and for the first time you look something other than defensive or standoffish. You look— well… sad. 

“Mom went a few years after you graduated,” you say, looking at Hotch. “Dad went last year.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Prentiss says. 

You nod your thanks, the notion a bit numb. 

“You never told me,” Hotch says with a slight frown.

“We haven’t talked in ten years,” you say. “Sorry that I didn’t know you still wanted updates.” 

Hotch tries to think of something to say in response, but Prentiss starts getting a call and she stands up. “Excuse me.” 

His jaw clenches for a moment as Prentiss ducks into a nearby bedroom, but he’s recovered by the time you look at him again. Your arms are crossed, but your expression is even. 

“I take it this was as much of a surprise for you as it is for me.” 

Hotch nods. “We came here looking for your brother.” 

“Does your team know about our history?” you ask simply.

“No.” 

“Do you want them to?” 

“…No.” 

You huff a laugh, your eyes narrowing a bit. “‘Course not. Probably counts as conflict of interest.” 

You wait another beat, then ask another question. “How’s Haley?”

“Good, last I heard,” he says, and then he hesitates. “We’re… divorced.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

He nods. “This job isn’t easy for anyone.”

You look like you want to say more, but once again, Hotch is saved by Prentiss as she walks back in. Her phone is closed in her hand and she looks at him. “Morgan and Rossi have a lead. The chief wants everyone back at the precinct to go over everything we’ve found.” 

Hotch nods again and stands up. Prentiss takes her card out of her pocket and holds it out to you. 

“Thank you for your time, Miss Hartford. If you find out any information, or want to tell us anything else, please give me a call.” 

“Pass that along to your brother, too,” Hotch says. 

You reluctantly take the card, but you don’t look at it. “You can see yourselves out.” 

Prentiss nods. “Thank you again. Have a good day, and stay safe.” 

She leads the way, and Hotch follows after her. He fights the urge to look back before he shuts the door. 

Prentiss looks at him as they walk back to the car, and he can only imagine what is going through her mind. But eventually she just shrugs and pulls out her phone again. 

“Garcia?” Prentiss asks after she picks up. 

“You’ve reached the office of all that is holy.” Penelope’s voice comes out through the speaker, and Hotch can’t help the smallest twitch of his lips. “What’s up?” 

“Dig up everything you can find on Lucas Hartford,” Emily says, and her glance at Hotch does not go unnoticed. “And throw in his sister, too. He’s one of our only suspects, and we need to know if she’s in on it.” 

“On it,” Garcia says. “I’ll call you back when I’m done.” 

“You’re the best,” she says, and then she hangs up. They get back to the car, and it only takes Prentiss all of five seconds after they get in for her to start drilling him.

“Alright,” she says, buckling her seatbelt with a click before she sets her attention on him. “What was that back there? You two know each other?”

Hotch busies himself with his own seatbelt and starting the car, answering as casually as possible as the engine revs to life. “We were friends in law school.”

“Sure,” Prentiss nods. “The way you were around her, that’s not just ‘law school friend’ stuff.”

Hotch is once again reminded of how, sometimes, it was a downfall to constantly be around profilers. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret. 

“It’s nothing,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “We knew each other, we fell apart, we’re here now.”

Emily hums. “Is it too far to ask if you were together?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, maybe a bit too hasty. “It is.”

“Fine,” she says breezily, and she looks out the window. “But that tension was thick.” 

Hotch knows what she’s thinking. Hasn’t he been with Haley since high school, what kind of history did you and him have, were you together, would he be okay to work this case— 

He doesn’t really want to answer any of them. You were a part of his past he hadn’t expected to resurface any time soon—if Hotch is being honest, he didn’t know if he would ever see you again once he graduated. Not after the way he broke things off.  

You’ve changed a lot. So has he. 

And now your brother is a murder suspect, and you could be covering up for him. 

That’s the only thing that should be on his mind. 

-

“For the last time,” you huff as you storm down the stairs, “I don’t want to deal with this.” 

“Because you know that Mia is a lying bitch!” Cleo exclaims, following after you. “I’m sick of you stealing my clothes!”

“I’m not stealing your clothes,” Mia scoffs in your wake, just behind Cleo. “They’re too ugly for me to want anyways. I bet I wouldn’t even fit into them.”

“You are! And you’re stealing my fucking jewelry, too!” she yells. “All of my shit is going missing, and I know it’s not Little Miss Law School, so it’s got to be you!” 

Mia draws out a mirthless laugh. “You are not accusing me of this.” 

“I don’t have anyone else to accuse!” Cleo shouts. 

They both look at you, and Mia says your name. “You have to settle this before I kill her.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you first!” she hisses. “At least I’ll get all my stuff back!”

You clench your jaw as your nails dig into your palms, and you’re about to bite back when the doorbell rings. You don’t even try to hide your sigh of relief. 

“That’s Aaron,” you say as you grab your coat and your bag from the table. “I’m leaving. If you kill each other, don’t get blood on the furniture.”

You don’t give them a chance to say anything before you rush to the door, open it, and shut it behind you. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” you breathe. 

“What’s going on in there?” Aaron asks, amused. 

“My roommates are fighting again.” You roll your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You’re much more interesting.”

“You know this is a study date,” he says wryly, and you cut him off with a kiss. 

“Still a date,” you murmur against his lips. “And something seriously needed.”

Aaron chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side, and the two of you walk to his car. “You’ve gotta get out of this house, honey.”

“I know,” you grumble. “But I can’t afford a place on my own.”

“Doesn’t have to be on your own,” he says as he opens the door for you. “It just has to be away from the girls that are making you miserable.”

“The lease ends at the end of the semester,” you sigh. “Just have to make it until then.”

“You know,” Aaron boxes you in against the car when you lean against the side of it, smiling softly at you, “I do live alone.”

“Oh yeah?” You ruffle his hair with your fingers and grin. “What are you proposing?”

He shrugs, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Just that you hate your roommates, and you don’t hate me. You could spend your time somewhere else.” 

“Careful,” you warn. “You keep saying things like that and we might not make it to the library.” 

“You keep saying things like that, and I might not mind,” Aaron muses. 

You grin as he leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, three times as your back hits the side of his car and you card your hands through his hair. Mia and Cleo are probably killing each other inside, but you don’t really care at this point. They’ve made your life hell for a semester and a half—they can bother each other for once. 

“Aaron,” you whisper against his lips, and he gets one more in between words, “I’ve got a test on Tuesday.”

“And today’s Sunday.” He nips at your neck and you laugh, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back. “You’ll be fine, honey.”

“You have one on Monday,” you remind him, and he sighs. You feel his hot breath against your neck. 

“Ruining our fun in the name of schoolwork,” he says. “No wonder all your professors love you.”

“Everyone loves me,” you correct. “Including you.”

You steal one more kiss before you open your door yourself and get in, and Aaron lets out a breathy laugh.

“You’ve got that right.”

He closes your door then gets in the other side, and you’re already rifling through the glove box full of cassettes. You pull out the mixtape you made for him for your six month anniversary and pop it into the player, and Aaron smiles as the first few notes of Stairway to Heaven come on. 

“You’re a threat to my grades, y’know.”

“Maybe it’s all part of my plan,” you say. “Distract you with kisses to make sure I’m a shoe-in for this fellowship.”

“A dastardly plan,” he says with mock austerity. 

“I’ve been told I have to be more of a shark,” you muse. “Consider this me taking down my competition.”

Aaron laughs, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound of it. You love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, how they soften just so, how he acts like himself around you, and not some perfected or stoic image that he thinks he needs. 

Falling in love with Aaron Hotchner has been the easiest thing in the world. 

“Don’t let anyone know,” he says, and he reaches over to intertwine your fingers together. “But I’ll happily fall to you every time.”

“As long as you don’t tell everyone how whipped I am for you,” you tease.

“Looks like we’ve both got reputations to keep up.”

“Looks like it.”

You share a smile, yours just on the edge of a grin as you try to bite it back. You hold hands the rest of the way, just soaking in each other’s presence with songs from bands you introduced to each other floating through the air. 

(It is a goddamn struggle to get any work done at the library with that face across from you the whole time.)

- 

You had sky-high aspirations when you were younger. 

Ones that would make your teachers offer a smile and tell you to shoot a little lower, that would make your friends’ eyes widen, that your father would scoff at and your mother would humor you on just to get you to move past it. 

You didn’t listen. You’ve wanted to be a lawyer since you went on a class field trip to a courthouse in elementary school and saw all the attorneys hustling about, dressed to the nines, making last-minute deals outside the courtroom.  

They were just… so confident. So smart, so stoic, always knowing the answer to everything. The good ones had money, sure, but more importantly they had the power to change lives for the better. And as a kid that had to cover up bruises before the school day, nothing sounded more appealing. 

All you’ve ever wanted to do is help people. 

And as you sit in a cold, empty interrogation room, you can’t help but wonder where the hell you went wrong. 

You don’t want to be here, obviously. But you know the FBI won’t stop bugging you until you give them answers—you know Aaron Hotchner won’t stop bugging you. 

Because god— what are the odds? 

What are the fucking odds of your ex-boyfriend from a decade ago showing up at your door with a badge and an attempted case against your brother? 

It’s ridiculous, and it’s such bad luck that you think it could only happen to you. You’ve thought about Aaron Hotchner more than you’d like to admit over the years, especially when you found your old GW crewnecks, and the box of school supplies you used for a decade, and those photo albums from what should’ve been your golden years. 

It’s not like any of it matters, though. You only agreed to come in and talk because you want them off your back and you don’t want them poking around your house. You saw it in Aaron’s eyes—he was profiling you and your place the entire time. 

If the cops want to invade your privacy even further, they can get a goddamn warrant. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, and you hold back a mirthless laugh, because of course it’s Aaron. He greets you with your name, and he has a file in his hands. You wonder if it’s on you or your brother. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come in and talk with us.”

“Well, you seem to think my brother is a murderer.” You cross your arms as you sit back. “I’m not really gonna let that stand.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for a lawyer,” he says as he sits down across from you. 

“I don’t plan to be here for very long,” you respond tartly. “But don’t worry—that can always change. I know my rights.” 

“I’m the last person you need to tell that to.” Hotch sets the file down and looks right at you. Though he’s obviously older—more grizzled, more hardened; harsher, sharper lines that define his face; lips set in a taut, unflinching line—you still see that young man from law school. The passion, the care he puts into everything, the penchant for striped ties. 

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. 

“Your last name wasn’t Hartford when I met you,” he says. “Why is it now?” 

“Not one for small talk,” you remark. 

“I never have been.” 

“I remember.” You hold his gaze. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I changed it to put some distance between me and everything else.” 

You can practically see the gears of his brain working, neural pathways branching off with every word you say to make sense of it and reason a thousand different meanings from it. Aaron’s always been like that, but it’s tenfold now. 

You suppose one has to be like that, to try and get anywhere with the types of criminals they face. 

“How long have you been living in St. Louis?”

“Seven years. I’ve had that house for three.” 

“Rent or own?”

“Rent,” you scoff. “I don’t make enough for a down payment, and I don’t want a place tying me down.”

“What inspired the move?”

“Close enough to home to be familiar, far enough to not be.” 

“And home is?” 

“St. Charles,” you say, and you purse your lips. “Shouldn’t you already know all this?” You nod at the file in front of him. “It’s either on me or my brother, and we share a lot of the same info.” 

“We prefer to get our information from the source,” he says. 

“Sources can lie.” 

Aaron doesn’t waver. “And we can charge you with obstruction if it harms our investigation.” 

Your lips twitch for a moment, not entirely without heart. “Ask your questions, Aaron.” 

He opens the folder and slides the first picture over to you—your brother’s first mugshot, taken when he was only twenty-one. You still remember riding your bike to the station in the sweltering August heat to drop off his bail and pick him up. 

You had to catch the bus home together, you had to pay his fare, and his bail drained everything you’d been saving from your waitress job. But your dad refused to pay it, and you refused to be alone in that house any longer than you already had. 

You swallow the memory. It still tastes as sour as the day it happened. 

“Lucas Hartford is our main suspect,” he says. “He matches our initial profile—in and out of jail since his twenties, his parents are dead and he has an unstable home life, and he’s got a sister.”   

“None of those sound like questions,” you say. 

“Where is your brother?” he asks firmly. He’s given you a bit of leniency, but you can tell he’s getting tired of you. Some things never change, you think to yourself bitterly. 

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

“You don’t know,” he repeats. 

“I let him stay with me, and my only requirement is that he goes to his community college classes and stays out of jail,” you say. “He’s done both, so I stay out of his business.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t questioned it?”

“I called him the other day after you left,” you say. “He didn’t pick up, and I didn’t get a call back until the next night.” 

Aaron’s eyes sharpen. “What did you say to him?” 

“I called to see where he was,” you say evenly. “I think you all are wrong, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.” 

“You didn’t tell him—” 

“No,” you interrupt, “I didn’t tell him about your investigation. If I think you’re wrong, why would I need to let him know?” 

He still has that look in his eyes, and you know you’re getting on his nerves with the constant interrupting, the constant backtalk. But he probably deals with much, much worse. 

“Good,” he nods. “You could be putting lives in danger if you do—including yours.” 

“Please,” you scoff. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.” 

“Why do you let him stay with you?” Aaron asks. “You’re straight-edge, he’s a borderline alcoholic that’s been in and out of jail for years. You’ve got a law degree, he never made it past high school. You’ve got your life together, his is falling apart.” 

“That’s why I do it,” you say. “Our parents are dead. I’m all he has left, and he’s all I have left. I want him to get better, so I’m trying my best to help him get there. How can Luke put his life back together if he’s got no support?” 

“That’s an awful lot of faith to put in someone who hasn’t earned it.” 

“I’ve gotten good at that over the years,” you reply. 

Aaron stares at you, and you stare back. You let the moment linger. You hope it stings, even fleetingly. 

“And you’re wrong, by the way.” 

“About what?” he asks. Again, unshaken. 

“I don’t have a law degree,” you say. “I dropped out.” 

And for some reason, that is what gets him. He frowns, and you wonder what it means that this is the most unexpected thing he’s gotten out of you. 

“Why? You were only a year out. You had stellar grades.” 

“My mom got cancer,” you say. “Luke was serving his second stint, Dad fucked off to some corner of the country to drink himself to death a couple months before. I was the only one left to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that from DC.” 

“I had no idea.” This is the first time he looks taken aback since you’ve met him again. “And she’s—”

“Dead,” you supply without waiting for an answer. You know he already knows it, but it still seems to have some effect on him. “Went a couple months after I was meant to graduate.” 

“…I’m sorry for your loss,” he says. He’s just repeating what his agent said at your house, but it feels genuine, at least. 

“It’s been a decade,” you say. “I’m just sorry it was her instead of my dad.” 

Aaron’s brows knit together again, and less work goes into covering it up this time. “You seem to have something against your father.” 

You huff a mirthless laugh. “Excellent profiling.” 

“Child abuse is common for serial killers,” Aaron says. “We find it’s typically the root of their problems later in life, or plays a part in their MO.” 

You stare at him again. This isn’t just an interrogation with Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner—it’s revealing parts of your past that you never told your ex-boyfriend Aaron. 

“Yeah,” you finally say. “Our dad beat us. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“You know th—” 

Aaron cuts himself off before he can finish whatever he wants to say, and he lets out a short sigh with a nod. “It’s valuable information for the profile.” 

The room feels a lot colder all of a sudden. “Sure.” 

He still looks like he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue as he takes the picture back and closes the file. 

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Would you like anything? Water?”

You shake your head and remain silent. He takes the folder and stands up, and you watch him the entire way to the door. Just before he can open it, you find words escaping without you thinking. 

“Look, Aaron,” you blurt out. He pauses, and he turns to look at you. “I know this is your thing, and this is your investigation, but I’m telling you—my brother and I don’t play any part in it.” 

“The profile—” 

“I don’t care what your profile says,” you interrupt. “He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.” 

“He’s rough around the edges, I know. In and out of jail isn’t good for anyone.” You hold onto the edge of the table as you continue rambling, needing something to do with your hands. “But he’s working to get better, and he is not the kind of person to do something like this. If you believe anything I say, believe that.” 

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he says evenly. 

He leaves the room, and your hands fall into your lap as your nails dig into your palms. You don’t mean to be desperate, but you feel it. You’ve been defending Lucas at every chance, but you’re terrified of being wrong. You’re terrified that Aaron might be right—that he might be behind all of this. 

For his sake—and your sake, honestly, because you think you deserve to be selfish when he’s all you have left—you hope you’re right. 

You have to be right. 

The room feels even colder. 

Your stare drifts to the one-way mirror, where you know his team is watching. You saw the way Agent Prentiss watched Aaron when they came to your house—he said he doesn’t want them to know, but you think they already do. 

You wonder the kind of things they’ve come up with about you and him. 

-

Morgan whistles when Hotch walks out of the interrogation room. 

“She does not like you.” 

“Did you gather anything else?” he asks placidly. He sets your brother’s file down so he can fix his tie. 

“Abusive dad, dead parents, criminal background,” he says. “Lucas is looking like a stronger suspect. Oh— and she really doesn’t like you.” 

“If you don’t want to go back to building a file on your suspect, move on,” Hotch demands. 

Morgan shrugs, clearly unfazed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Reid, meanwhile, is still staring through the glass at you. You haven’t exactly relaxed, but you’re not as tense as you were while talking to Hotch. You pick at a loose strand of thread on your sweater, and when you pull it out, you let it fall to the floor. 

“Her brother feels like a prime suspect,” Reid murmurs. “I feel like I could just figure it all out if I could talk to him.” 

“I told Penelope to keep an eye on him,” Prentiss contributes. “She’s tracking his cards, the car registered in his name, even called the person in charge of the AA meetings he goes to to keep an eye out—everything. We’ll know if she gets anything.”

“Serial killers want to see the damage they’ve done,” Reid says. “Things are falling apart here—the whole city is terrified. He’s gotta be in St. Louis still.” 

“You’re sure that he’s still in the running.” Hotch glances back at you, and he knows he has to at least ask, for your sake. He doesn’t want to put you through anything more than he has to—not after what you’ve told him. 

And Hotch knows your past is your business—he just can’t believe you never told him. 

He’s turned over your relationship in his head just as many times in these past few days as he did the months after he ended things. 

“I’m sure, sir,” Reid says. “I’ve read over both their files, and Lucas matches with our preliminary profile. His stressor could have been his father dying.”

Morgan frowns. “Explain.”

“Family annihilators typically go after their own family for a myriad of reasons,” he says. “Paranoia, to cover up their lies, to free themselves from what they see as oppression, sometimes just pure jealousy.”

“He’s killing the parents but leaving the children alive,” Hotch says. “Sounds like a liberator to me.”

“That’s what I think,” Reid nods. “If Lucas has been banking on killing his father for that attempt at freedom, and then lost the chance?” He shrugs. “That could be why he started going for other families.” 

“Other fathers to take his place,” Morgan realizes, and he nods again. 

“You should talk to her, Spence,” Prentiss says. “You’ve got a handle on the profile, and you’re pretty good at conveying info. She seems like a reasonable person—just can’t accept her brother doing something like this.” 

“It’s typical for someone to deny their family member’s involvement,” Reid says. “No one wants to think their sibling is a murderer.” 

“If you lay it all out for her like that, with facts and the profile, I think she’ll listen.” Prentiss looks at Hotch. “She’s too closed off with you.”

“That’s how she is,” Hotch claims.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “but it’s much easier to hate you than it is to hate Reid.” 

Hotch glares at her, and Reid clears his throat to insert himself back into the conversation. 

“I’d be happy to talk to her,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be in this kind of position—I can put her at ease, sympathize with her.” 

They all look at Hotch, and he wants to say no. He wants to be the one to get this out of you—some part of him wants as much time with you as possible. But he decides to swallow his ego. 

“Fine.” He nods, and he hands the folder to Reid. “I trust you to handle it.” 

Reid nods too, far too many times, and he takes the file. “Thank you. Uh— sir. I appreciate your trust.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but it has no bite to it, and Reid walks inside. 

He says your name and sits down across from you. “I’m Spencer Reid. I know we’ve already said it, but thank you for talking to us. It may not seem like it, but it goes a long way towards figuring out this case.”

You nod. You already seem more at ease than you were with him, and it makes Hotch… 

Not jealous, because that would be insane. But it makes him upset that he doesn’t understand you the way he used to—that he doesn’t hold that key to you anymore. God, it feels like he doesn’t know you anymore. 

Hotch doesn’t get why a side of his brain still thinks this way about you. 

“They sent a new one in,” you say. 

“You looked like you needed a break from Hotch,” Reid says. “Don’t worry. We all do sometimes.”

You huff a slight laugh and your posture eases, your expression softens just so. Reid was right, as usual. 

“I can imagine.”

He starts talking to you about the case, laying out all the facts, and though you don’t look happy, you don’t cut him off like you cut Hotch off. 

“She’s pretty,” Morgan offers, glancing at Hotch. “And stubborn. I see why you like her.” 

“Shut up, Morgan,” Hotch mutters.

He chuckles and holds his hands up, and focuses back on the interrogation. 

The rest of it passes in silence, save for the occasional input from Prentiss or Morgan to elaborate on a point. You talk much more with Reid than you did with Hotch, and you don’t stare daggers at him the entire time. 

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds, he thinks. 

When Reid is finishing up inside with you, Morgan glances back at Hotch. “You think she’s part of this?”

He shakes his head. “No. She has no reason to kill, nothing to gain. She talks about her past too plainly—it hurt her, obviously, but it hasn’t taken over her life.”

“What about her brother?” Prentiss asks. 

“The more we learn, the more I suspect him,” Morgan says. 

She nods in agreement. “We just have to find him.”

Hotch isn’t sure yet. 

But for your sake, he hopes his gut feeling is wrong. 

-

Spring has finally sprung in DC, and you couldn’t be happier. 

It’s hard to feel down on your walks to class when the birds are singing and the sun is beaming down on you, when you see students sitting on blankets reading and talking and actually enjoying life for once. 

You’re two years into law school, and it feels like you’ve spent 90% of your time studying in either the library or your room. A bit of a sad existence, but it’s made better with Aaron. 

You’re laying down on a blanket—one you crocheted yourself in undergrad—resting your head on Aaron’s chest as he reads a book, the spring sun shining down on you. It feels like the first moment of relaxation either of you have had since classes started, and you chose to spend it together in the University Yard. 

You should probably be studying or doing some kind of homework, but you don’t care. It has been too damn long since you’ve gotten to just sit around and exist with Aaron, and you’ve got at least a couple days until your next quiz. That’s far enough away for you. 

It’s been a rough semester for both of you, between classes and endless homework, between your internship and your endless family issues—Luke is two years in, and his parole was denied, and your dad still insists on being the reason you stay on campus year-round. 

You don’t think you’re pushing it when you say Aaron’s support has been the only reason you’ve gotten through it, your grades—and your mental state—relatively unscathed. 

Aaron says your name, and you hum. 

“Are you listening?” he asks. 

“Of course,” you say. 

“Your eyes are closed.” 

“I don’t need my eyes to listen,” you say wryly. “What’s up?” 

You feel him tense for a moment, feel him adjust his position slightly. 

“I got a call from Haley,” he says carefully. 

Your eyes open and you frown. 

You know the name, but only in the way that you talked a bit about your past relationships while you were still getting to know each other. She was his high school girlfriend, and it was a big deal then, but they broke up before college because they both wanted different things.

It shouldn’t be a big deal now. But he’s treating it like one, and that makes you hesitate. 

“Yeah? What’d she want?”

“…She’s in DC for the weekend,” he says. “Some conference for school. She asked if we could grab a coffee or something and catch up.”

You finally sit up, his hands falling from where he’d been playing with your hair, and you look at him.

“Your high school girlfriend wants to catch up.”

“An old friend wants to catch up,” he corrects. “I haven’t really talked to her since we graduated high school.” 

“…Okay,” you say slowly. “Do you want to see her?” 

He shrugs. “I thought it would be nice.”

“Do you think she thinks it’ll be more than nice?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t even know how she got my landline. I think my mom might have given it to her.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Your mom gave your ex-girlfriend your number?” 

“It’s the only way I can think of her getting it,” Aaron shrugs. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to her since graduation.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think as you look at Aaron. 

You’ve met his mom a dozen times. You’re insistent that she doesn’t like you, despite Aaron’s assertions towards the opposite—it wouldn’t surprise you if she gave this girl his new number in an effort to push him in a new direction. 

But that train of thought feels a little crazy. You’re confident in your relationship with Aaron—you love him, and he loves you. God, he made an off-handed comment about marriage the other day. You’re not threatened by a girl from his past wanting to catch up. 

“Go for it,” you finally say. 

He frowns, like he was expecting the worst. “Really?” 

“I trust you, Aaron,” you say. “You say she’s just a friend, I believe it.” 

You lean forward to kiss him, your eyes fluttering shut, and it lasts much longer than it should. When you pull away, Aaron’s smiling softly at you. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“‘Course,” you say, tipping a shoulder. “I’m known to be rational from time to time.” 

He chuckles, and you smile as you lay back down on his chest. Soon after, you feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder. 

“I love you,” he says. It feels more like a reminder than anything. 

You entangle your fingers together and press a kiss to the back of his hand. 

Sometimes you need reminders. 

“I love you too.” 

-

“Four more bodies,” Prentiss mutters. “God.” 

“You can say that again,” Morgan murmurs. 

Hotch is silent as he examines the father’s body. They’ve been so busy the past few days trying to nail down the profile, both on their unsub and geographically, that this happening again hadn’t been at the top of their list. There was a month between the first two, and two weeks between the second and third. 

No one expected this to happen so soon. 

The entire family was killed this time, and once again, the parents look similar to the other victims. It’s the work of their unsub, no doubt. 

Hotch and the team had already been at the precinct for an hour going over all the information they’d found when they got the call at 8 in the morning, the bodies discovered by the family’s maid when she arrived for work. 

An entire family, parents and children, senselessly slaughtered for one man’s deranged quest for liberation. 

Hotch has been in this business for a long time, seen things that most people only imagine in nightmares, and he still has to take a step back when children are involved. 

He sees Jack in every single one. He can’t help it. 

Hotch took Prentiss and Morgan with him to the crime scene—JJ has a kid, Rossi had a kid, and he just didn’t want Reid to see it. They’ll all be more valuable working together back there anyways, and it’s imperative that JJ controls the narrative before this can break to the press. 

Again, Prentiss talks to the officers at the scene and Morgan helps him examine the bodies. After all, there are double the amount. 

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Morgan says as he stands back up. “Our guy is killing surrogate parents to get back at his own, fine. Dad was tortured again, mom was killed with a bullet. But bringing the kids into it isn’t his thing.” 

He uses a gloved hand to gingerly lift the father’s arm away from his body so he can examine the underarm. “Look at this. He’s been stabbed at least ten times, and his arm’s nearly severed from his body.”

“And his neck,” Morgan mutters. “He’s half decapitated.” 

Hotch sets the arm back down. “The unsub always wants the father to suffer, but this is a new level.” He looks up at Morgan. “I don’t think he has a reason for killing the children. I think he’s getting sloppy—he’s getting overwhelmed by his anger.” 

“You think he’s devolving,” he says, catching on. 

“Something tells me we’re coming to the end of the line,” Hotch says. “Whatever he does next, he’s going out with a bang.” 

-

The mood in the precinct has fallen dramatically since the last hit. The uniforms aren’t happy that they’re working around the clock, the chief isn’t happy that the BAU hasn’t figured everything out yet, and the city isn’t happy that ten murders have been committed with what they think is no end in sight. 

JJ and Rossi have gone out to bring in the suspect that he and Morgan found together for the sake of covering their bases—they still haven’t been able to find Lucas, despite Reid calling you every day to check in and upping police presence around the city. 

The rest of the team sits around a conference table, over a dozen coffees between them, going over everything and racking their brains for information. 

“This just isn’t matching up,” Reid complains. “Lucas has just been at home for the first two, but for the third and the fourth he’s got alibis.” 

“What are they?” Hotch asks. 

“He was on the road all night when the third happened,” Reid says. 

“And how do we know?” Prentiss asks. 

“Garcia picked up his debit card being used a couple times from Des Moines back to St. Louis when the third set of murders happened,” Morgan contributes. “Must’ve been a road trip, because there are stops at a gas station, a restaurant, and a rest stop.” 

“The last one happened during an AA meeting he was supposed to attend,” Prentiss says. “I called the leader and she said he was there.”

“Do we have footage from any of those places?” Hotch asks. “We need to make sure.” 

Reid nods. “I asked her to check it all this morning, including the AA meeting. She must still be going through it—I can’t imagine it’s easy to get all that access.” 

“What about a second unsub?” Morgan suggests. 

Hotch shakes his head. “These are all meant to be personal for liberation—catharsis. Involving someone else would take away from the feeling.” 

“What about your suspect?” Prentiss asks, looking at Morgan. “Could he be the unsub?” 

“Patrick Fenton,” Morgan says, and he shrugs. “He fits it—dead parents, jail time, child of abuse. But he’s got two sisters, and his parents died when he was in his twenties from a car accident. I don’t see why he would start killing almost twenty years later.” 

“Maybe we’ll figure something out in questioning,” Reid says hopefully. 

Morgan’s phone suddenly goes off, and he hits the button to answer. “You’re on speaker, babygirl.” 

“I found the security footage from those three places, the ones that Lucas was at on his supposed road trip when the third family was hit,” Garcia says, voice slightly tinny through the phone.  

“And?” Hotch asks. 

“I was getting there,” she says. “Lucas wasn’t there. He wasn’t on any of the footage—his sister was.” 

Hotch frowns. You? 

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

“I’m always sure,” Garcia responds. “And I don’t know if Spencer is there, but he also wasn’t there at the AA meeting—I combed through the whole meeting, and he didn’t show up at any point. Just another guy that looked like him.” 

“And you’re sure about that, too?” Hotch asks again. 

“What is with this questioning of my abilities?” she asks, offended. “Yes. I’ve stared at so many pictures of Lucas Hartford over these past few days that I’ve got him burned into my brain.” 

“Thanks, babygirl,” Morgan says. “We’ll call back if we need anything.” 

“And you’re always welcome in this house of miracles,” she muses. Morgan chuckles before he hangs up. 

“Lucas gave her his card,” Reid realizes. “It’s an easy alibi, but it falls apart when you look into it even a little bit.” 

“Probably seemed solid to him at the time,” Morgan says. “He doesn’t seem like a detail oriented guy.” 

Prentiss frowns. “That means he’s back on the chopping block. We can put him at the scene of every murder.” 

Hotch leans over the table and grabs Lucas’s file, and he pulls out the page compiling his family. “His father died a year ago from liver failure. Hartford got out of jail nine months ago after a six year stint.” 

“If he’s been plotting some elaborate murder of his father for years, just to get out of jail and find out he drank himself to death?” Morgan shakes his head. “He’d snap. It doesn’t feel like justice.” 

“He thinks he’s saving the kids of these parents that he kills,” Reid says. “He sees himself in them—he can’t look past his own childhood, and he assumes those kids must want their parents dead too.” 

“He’s trying to get back at his dad,” Prentiss says. “We know that.” 

“But that’s not his main goal,” Reid insists. “If his dad died when he was a kid, the abuse would have stopped. His mom wouldn’t be the battered wife anymore, and he wouldn’t be the battered kid.” 

“His goal has always been protection,” Hotch realizes. “Yes, he’s getting his revenge by killing his father over and over, but ultimately, he’s trying to save himself.” 

“But he didn’t anticipate the kids being home this time,” Prentiss says. “He had to kill them too.” 

“If he‘s seeing himself in these children, recreating what he never got to do, then that means that he effectively died in this scenario,” Reid says. 

“He didn’t get what he wanted,” Morgan says. “That’s gonna take a toll on him.”

“He’s coming to the end of the line,” Prentiss nods. 

Hotch’s brain is working overtime as they work information off of each other. They’re so damn close—they just need the last piece of the puzzle. If they find Lucas’s next victim, they find him. 

“His next crime will probably be his last before he goes out himself,” Reid says. 

“You think it’ll be a murder-suicide?” Morgan asks. 

“It’s common with family annihilators,” Reid says. “Hell, it’s common with anyone who sees no future beyond their murders. It’s their way out.” 

And then the answer hits Hotch like a ton of bricks. Reid is still rambling next to him. 

“If his dad was still alive, I’d say he would be the target. But the only one left—”

“—is his sister,” Hotch grits out, and he’s dashing out of the conference room before anyone can stop him. 

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, and he turns to Prentiss with wild eyes. “Where the hell is he going?” 

“The last victim,” she says as she starts following him. “The one person he never managed to save.” 

“Goddammit,” Morgan curses, and he grabs his phone from the table, dialing Garcia as fast as she can while he runs. Reid is close behind him.  

“What’s up, sugar?” she asks. “Got anymore leads?” 

He laughs dryly. “We’ve got a big one, babygirl. Lucas has finally reached the end of the road — he’s going for his sister. I need you to call JJ and Rossi and—” 

“Send them the Hartford address and fill them in on everything?” she interrupted, and he could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.” 

“What would I do without you?” he asks. 

“Be half the man and twice as sad,” she says. “I’ve got to call JJ. Be safe, my love.” 

“Always,” he responds, and he hangs up. 

Hotch distantly registers Prentiss stopping by the chief to alert him of what’s going on, because he’s in the fog of a rampage. He’s in the driver’s seat before he knows it, starting the car, and he sees Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid running out after him. 

Prentiss takes shotgun and Morgan and Reid file into the back, and they’ve all got Kevlar vests in their hands. He didn’t really think of that through his haze. 

“We’ve got an extra one for you,” Reid says, reading his mind. 

“Thank you. I— I know what you’re all thinking—” Hotch starts, but Prentiss shakes her head.

“Just drive.” Her lips set themselves in a taut line. “We’ve got a murder to stop.”  

And he does. 

-

You sit on the curb, surrounded on either side by a box of your things. Packing up everything made you realize how little you had at his place. You thought you’d integrated yourself into his life fully, but it really just took an afternoon while he was in a lecture to disappear. 

Summer has fully turned to winter, and you’re as morose as the weather. This side of town looks so depressing without the warmer months to pick it up—the sidewalks are lined with dead trees, the grass is shriveled up and yellowing, and you feel like you’re living in grayscale. 

A shiver runs through you, the weather only partly to blame. 

Amy is supposed to pick you up, but as usual, she’s running late. You don’t know if it’s a personal issue or DC traffic has just struck again, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way, you’re stuck here, and your bad luck seems intent on making it worse, because you watch a familiar car pull around the corner. 

It parks a distance away—there’s no space in front of the complex, and he always complained that they didn’t do assigned spots—and you have to hold back a scornful scoff. 

Of course you have to deal with this now. 

Aaron picks up his pace when he gets out of the car, surprise—and what you think is shame—painted on his face. He says your name when he slows down. 

“You’re already packed.” 

You shrug. “I’m nothing if not efficient.” 

“I could’ve helped you with all this,” Aaron says, frowning. 

“Why do you think it’s done already?” you ask. 

His throat bobs and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Let me save you the pain of chivalry,” you say. “I’ve got a friend coming to pick me up. I’ve already found a place. I called your property manager the other day and argued my way out of the lease, but I still paid my next month. You’re welcome.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says. 

“You know what they say about a clean break,” you intone.  

“I’m sorry,” Aaron tries again. To his credit, he looks like he means it. Against his credit, it’s about the fiftieth time you’ve heard it from him in the past two weeks. 

“I shouldn’t have let you get that coffee,” you say with a grim smile, “should I?” 

His lips pull into a taut line. “I didn’t cheat on you.” 

“I know,” you say. It’s the one thing you do believe. “I just don’t think you ever fell out of love with her.” 

Mercifully, you see Amy’s car pulling up in the distance. She’s your only friend with an SUV, so at least your boxes will fit. 

“My ride’s here,” you say as you stand up, and you pick up one of your boxes. Amy throws on her hazards and she gets out to open her trunk. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she breathes. “Traffic was awful, and Jake has been so annoying—” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a slight smile as you put your box in the back. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.”  

“I want us to still be friends,” Aaron calls. When you turn back, he has your other box in his hands, his expression shamelessly desperate. Amy glares daggers at him. 

“Why?” you ask innocently. “So I can go without talking to you for ten years, ask you for a coffee when I’m in town, and then get you to leave Haley?” 

“That’s not what happened,” he says, but you’re already shaking your head. 

You take the box from him and smile thinly. 

“Have a good rest of your life, Aaron. I hope it doesn’t involve me ever again.”

-

You let out a noise of frustration as you struggle to get the key into the lock, gritting your teeth as you try to fit it in. It’s always been finicky, but you just don’t have the energy to deal with this tonight. Thankfully, just when you start getting annoyed, you get it open. 

You get a few steps in before your eyebrows rise, the sight of your brother at the kitchen table a surprise. He’s got his head in his hands, and your surprise turns to concern.

“Lucas,” you say with a slight smile, shutting the door behind you, “I didn’t know you were gonna be home tonight.”

His attention shoots to you immediately as he says your name, and he looks slightly out of it. “I was wondering when you were gonna get back.”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth,” you say wryly, and you ruffle his hair with your free hand as you walk past him. He swats your hand away in brotherly protest, and you snort. “This place has been quiet without you. Well— except for the cops. They were pretty loud.” 

“They haven’t been back, have they?” 

You look back at him and notice his leg is bobbing up and down insanely fast, and he keeps scratching at the soft wood of your table with his nail. 

Your smile fades. “Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I haven’t,” he insists, but you turn on the kitchen light, then move closer to peer into his eyes against his protests. 

“At least you’re not high,” you murmur, taking one last look before you pull away. “And stop ruining the table. I need it to last for the next ten years.” 

He huffs, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he stops. 

“Did you go to class today?”

“You don’t have to act like Mom,” Lucas says, crossing his arms again with another huff. 

“And you don’t have to act like a child.” You roll your eyes as you set your tote bag on the countertop and begin unpacking the groceries you bought. “I’m asking you about your day—that’s definitely not acting like Mom.”

“Yes,” he mocks. “I went to class.”

“Good.” You glance back at him. “I’m proud of you, Luke. You’ve been making progress.” 

His smile is a bit thin, but he nods. “Thanks. How was work?”

You scoff and shake your head as you put a couple things in the pantry. “Don’t even get me started. I swear, Marie’s going to get me fired someday if she keeps her bullshit up.”

“She’s still on it?” Luke asks, and you can’t help but smile a bit. 

“Don’t act like you know what I’m talking about,” you say. “Just agree with me.” 

“I agree with you,” he says. 

“That’s it,” you muse. 

Your eyes fall back on your bag, and you’re reminded of what you meant to do next time your brother showed up. 

“Oh—” You go back over to the kitchen table for your bag and pull out your wallet. You slide a debit card out and hold it out to your brother. “Thanks for letting me use it while I was up in Des Moines. I finally got my bank to get rid of the freeze on my card.” 

“…Of course,” he says, and he takes it back. “Glad I could help.” 

“I’ll pay you back, obviously,” you say as you get back to your groceries. “I just have to wait to get paid again.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And uh— you never answered me. Did the cops come by again?” 

You huff a mirthless laugh and shake your head. “You have nothing to worry about, Luke. I think they finally realized they were barking up the wrong tree.”

“…Good,” he says. “I can tell they’ve stressing you out.”

“Like that looks any different than my normal state,” you say wryly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You recall the shock you felt when you opened the door to Aaron, and how nervous you were on the drive to the precinct. It’s almost been a decade, and yet he still has an effect on you that he has no right to. 

“You remember that guy I dated when I was still in law school? Aaron Hotchner?”

“I think? I was in jail, so.” 

You roll your eyes. “I know I told you about him when I visited you while we were together.” 

“I remember you telling me how he broke your heart,” Luke says. 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“Then what are you saying?” 

“That he’s with the FBI now. The BAU,” you enunciate, and you huff. “He’s one of the guys on this case, coincidence that it is. They came here—they even brought me in for an interview.”

He frowns. “What’d you say?”

“The truth.” You pull your cutting board and a knife out of a drawer and get to work washing your vegetables. “That I didn’t know anything, and neither of us are involved in either way.” You shake your head with a sigh. “They must believe it, because they haven’t come back.” 

“What have they said about me?” he asks. 

“I’m not supposed to say.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re innocent, but I could get charged with obstruction, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that…” 

You trail off into a sigh as you finish washing the peppers and set them on a towel. “I hope they find whoever’s doing it, though. It is freaking me out that there’s a murderer out there.” 

You pick up your knife and start cutting them up—they’re not the freshest, but it’s all Kroger had after work—and you glance back at Luke. “You really shouldn’t be going out so often with this going on, y’know. I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m careful.” 

“I doubt that,” you say wryly. “Still, though. I worry about you.” 

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asks. “I’m your older brother.” 

“I worry about everything,” you say. “It’s my thing.” 

You hear him huff a laugh and you smile a bit to yourself. You get through your first pepper before you remember what’s been nagging at you your whole ride home. 

“Oh— can you get the TV?” you ask. “Channel 8, I think. Marcy is getting interviewed for something with her nonprofit, and I told her I’d record it for her.”

Lucas doesn’t respond, though you hear the scrape of the chair as he gets up. 

“Thank you,” you say. “I think they have a fundraiser coming up or something…” you trail off and shake your head as you scrape the cut peppers onto a plate. “God. I need to start paying attention in the break room.”

Another few seconds pass, and you don’t hear the television switch on. You huff and turn your head slightly. “Luke, I’m making dinner tonight. This is the least you could do.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The words come out as a murmur, but you can tell he’s much closer than he was before. 

You don’t even get the chance to turn around before something crashes against your head and your vision goes dark. You feel yourself fall to the ground, and your head hits the floor hard. 

Then, there’s nothing. 

-

Hotch has been breaking every speeding law there is. 

The station isn’t too far from your house, but it’s still too far. All he can see is your body, crippled and lifeless just like every other victim they’ve had to look at. 

It should never have gotten to this point. Lucas has been a suspect for the first day, but they looked to other suspects, got caught up in statements from neighbors and the kids of the victims. 

If Hotch just found him and booked him on the first day, this wouldn’t be happening. Your life wouldn’t be in danger. 

His hands tighten on the steering wheel. 

“I seriously think we’re looking at a murder-suicide if this gets to play out,” Reid speaks up from the backseat. “This is his way of ending this for both of them—the ultimate protection of his sister.”

“No one can hurt her if she’s dead,” Morgan mutters. 

“Hotch,” Prentiss starts, treading carefully, “are you sure you’re okay to lead this?”

“Yes,” he says, though he wants to say what kind of question is that?

You were together a lifetime ago in law school, yes, and he might still have feelings for you that he didn’t even realize were there, yes—but he’s an agent and a professional before all of that. 

It doesn’t matter that you have history. It doesn’t matter that you likely hate him. 

It doesn’t matter that he thought he was going to marry you one day, and then was watching you drive out of his life after he got back with his high school girlfriend another day.  

Aaron Hotchner is not going to let you die. It’s as simple as that. 

Hotch’s phone rings and he picks it up and flips it open immediately. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“JJ and Rossi are on their way,” she says. “Are you headed to their place?” 

“Yes,” he says, and he puts it on speaker. “I’ve got Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid with me still.” 

“Do you think there’s anywhere else he could be?” Morgan asks. “If he’s going to kill her, he might not want to do it in this house.” 

“Already a step ahead of you, my love,” she says, and he can hear mouse clicks through the phone. “They grew up in a house in St. Charles—it’s abandoned, from the looks of it, some place on the outskirts. Never got another buyer after the past owners moved out. I’m sending the address to Emily right now.”

Prentiss gets a buzz on her phone and she nods in confirmation after flipping it open. Hotch immediately switches lanes and makes a U-turn, his jaw clenching. 

“Tell me how to get there, Prentiss,” he says. “He’s there.”

“You need to get on I-70,” she says, and then her brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“He’s killed everyone else in their homes because he sees it as the source of it all. His sister’s rented place isn’t personal enough.” Hotch shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t he want to go back to theirs to end it all?”

“Hotch.” Penelope’s voice rings out in the car, and he doesn’t even realize he forgot to hang up. 

“What?”

“Be careful,” she says, and he rushes to turn it off speaker and press it to his ear. “I… I know how important this is to you.”

Hotch’s throat bobs and his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He blinks them away—he can’t be weak now. He can’t let his team see him be weak now. “Dare I ask how?”

“I found an article about GW’s mock trial team,” she says. “Kind of went down a rabbit hole from there.”

Somehow, he huffs the slightest laugh. It feels like a lifetime ago—it honestly is, at this point. Before he saw carnage and gore on a daily basis and tried to solve it, when he thought the DA’s office was the endpoint, when he came home to your smiling face every night. 

And now… 

Hotch’s spine somehow stiffens, and he knows the other three in the car are watching him. He can’t decide whether he cares or not. 

“Thank you, Garcia.”

“No problem,” she says, and he can almost hear her blink in the pause. “Uh— for what, exactly?” 

For the memory, he wants to say. But he doesn’t. He can’t, not right now, so he tries his best to snap out of it. 

“Keep a watch on the patrol cars,” he says instead. “Update JJ and Rossi on our plan, but tell them to stay on their path. I’m sure I’m right, but we need to cover our bases.” 

“Of course, sir.” He hears her fingers flying across the keys. “I’ve got yours and the squad cars’ locations up—I’ll call them now.” 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“Good luck, Hotch,” Garcia says softly. 

Hotch hangs up before he gets too emotional. Penelope has a way of bringing that side out of him. 

“We’ll get him,” Prentiss assures. She’s been watching him this whole time, he can feel it—she’s been attuned far too keenly on this entire part of the case involving you and him. “And we’ll save her.” 

His knuckles go white around the steering wheel, and for once, Hotch can’t find the words. 

-

It feels like your head is slowly being cranked in a vice when you eventually wake up, a dull but insistent pain. Your arm stings too, but you don’t know why. 

You blink a few times as you try to figure out where you are, a low groan slipping out as you fully come back into consciousness, and you move to rub the grogginess out of your eyes. 

Your arms don’t move. You try again, panic spiking your heart for a moment, and that’s when you realize you’re in a chair—tied to a chair, your wrists bound together behind you and your ankles bound to the chair legs. 

Now the panic fully sets in. There’s a murderer in St. Louis, but you don’t fit the victimology from what you’ve seen, but does any of that fucking matter when you’re stuck in something out of a horror movie?

Lucas was the only one there with you. So either he’s in the same situation, or he—

“You’re finally awake,” a voice murmurs. When he comes into view and sits down across from you, your heart stops. 

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your brother with wide eyes. You see the gun in his hand through your peripherals, but you don’t look away from his gaze. 

“I was worried I was too rough,” he says softly. “But you’ve always been resilient.” 

“Lucas,” you breathe. “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s finally going to be over,” he says, ignoring your panic. “We’ve been hurting our whole lives because of that bastard of a father, and I can finally make it all stop.” 

Your brother is fucking crazy. He’s fucking crazy, and he’s going to kill you.

You’ve spent two weeks telling Aaron he was crazy and your brother was innocent, and now he’s going to be proven right when he finds your dead body. 

You try to tamp down on your panic. You don’t have a law degree, sure, and you never officially practiced, but you’ve been a good speaker, a persuasive one, all your life. 

And if there’s ever been a fucking time to be persuasive, it’s now. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper. “We— we can talk if you want to talk.” You tug at your ankle restraints. “This is unnecessary.” 

He shakes his head. “I know you. You’d run.” 

“Come on.” You manage as much of a smile as you can. “I’ve always been there for you, Luke. Why would this be any different?” 

“…You’ve always been too nice,” he says, and he sets the gun down on his leg. At least he doesn’t have his finger on the trigger. “Anyone rational would’ve kicked me to the curb when I asked you for help.” 

“You’re my brother,” you whisper. “I— I love you, Lucas. I’d never do that to you.” 

“Family’s supposed to be everything, right?” He shakes his head. “You were the only one of us that understood that. You were there to pick me up every time my sentence was up.” 

“I’ve always believed in you,” you say. 

He huffs a monotone laugh as he stares at the ground. “You’re definitely the only one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not true.” 

“Mom didn’t care enough to stop anything,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “And Dad wished I was dead every goddamn day. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but he definitely tried.” 

You can’t defend your parents. Your dad’s a piece of shit, and your mom didn’t stop anything he did—but you could never find it in yourself to fully hate her because he hurt her too, with more than just bruises. 

“I’ve dreamt of killing our dad every day for twenty years,” Lucas says. “And that old bastard had to fuck me over one last time and die while I was in jail.”

You remember when you got the news. You were next of kin—your mother was dead, and your brother was incarcerated—so you got the call from the hospital. You deliberated for hours before you bought a plane ticket to Montana—apparently that was where he fucked off to drink himself to death—and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more numb than when you were sitting in some lawyer’s office, listening to him drone on about his will and how his estate would be divided. 

“So you killed all of those people?” you asked. “Because you didn’t get to kill our dad first?” 

“I was saving those kids!” Luke yells, and you shrink in on yourself. “Saving them before their parents could fuck them up like ours did to us!” 

“You don’t have to do this,” you repeat. “You’re just letting Dad win. Proving every shitty thing he said about you.” 

“And that’s the zinger, isn’t it? Luke laughs and shakes his head. “He was right. We’re a whole family of fuck-ups. An alcoholic abuser, a battered wife, a nonstop jailbird, and you…” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You should be out there prosecuting people like me.”

“He ruined us,” Luke murmurs. “And I’m finally going to fix it.” 

All you can do is stare at your brother, wide and teary eyed. You can’t find the words, but you don’t have to. 

Police sirens begin to filter through the air as they get closer, and Luke huffs. “Of course.” He eyes you. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say weakly. 

When he leaves to peer out the front door, you take a second to look at your surroundings. It takes a second because they’re so decrepit, but you could never forget. 

Luke brought you back to your childhood home—the place in St. Charles, rotten down to its bones. It’s abandoned by now, but the atmosphere is nothing less than oppressive. There’s a reason you graduated high school a year early, why you never came back once you got to college—except with Aaron, to help your mom move her things out. 

You refuse to die here. Even if you have to claw your way back through the gates of Hell inch by inch—you will not die here. 

You hear footsteps, and when Lucas comes back in, he has a crazed glint in his eye. He shakes his head as his finger returns back to the trigger, and you can’t help but flinch. He won’t. Not now. 

“Looks like your friends the FBI are here,” he drawls. “You said you didn’t tell them anything.” 

“I didn’t,” you insist. “They’re profilers—they figure things out.” 

He shakes his head. “They don’t realize that I have to do this.” Luke kneels down in front of you and takes your chin in an iron grip. “This is the only way to end our pain.” 

He lets go of you then stands up, moving behind you—you want to protest, but you don’t get the chance. He presses his gun to your temple and then the door is broken down. Four agents rush in, guns at the ready. Aaron leads them, and he’s got fire blazing in his eyes.

“FBI,” he barks. “Hands up.”

Lucas doesn’t seem fazed, his breathing staying the same. You stare right at Aaron, unfiltered fear in your eyes, and you feel torn bare. He’s going to watch your brother put a bullet in your head. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says smoothly. “This is a family matter.” 

“Put the gun down, Lucas,” Aaron says. 

“You know my name,” he says. “I know yours too, Aaron Hotchner. My sister told me you were with the feds. She also told me you broke her heart.”

“Put the gun down,” he repeats. 

“I don’t think I will,” Luke says. “You see, I don’t go around just kidnapping people for fun. I have a purpose here.” He tilts his head to the side. “But you know that, don’t you? You’re all profilers.” 

“You’ve been targeting families that look like your own,” he says. “You think that killing them will end the pain inside you, and protect those kids in a way that you never got.” 

“I don’t think it,” he bites, “I know it. If my dad had been shot thirty years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

“This isn’t going to bring you peace,” Aaron says. “Your sister has been the only person to stay by your side through every part of your life. Do you really want to lose that?” 

“Trust me,” Luke says. “I’m not losing her.” 

He flicks the safety off and you flinch. He’s going to kill you. 

“Put the gun down,” another agent warns. 

“If you all don’t leave right now, I’ll shoot her.” Your whole body stiffens as he presses the gun harder into the side of your head, your breathing going off kilter. “Except you, Aaron Hotchner. You can stay.”

“We’re not doing that,” the woman says. Agent Prentiss, you think. 

“Really?” Luke chuckles. “You think you hold the cards here?” 

“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “Go.” 

Agent Prentiss frowns, and the other two men look different levels of puzzled. They obviously doubt the decision, but they don’t doubt Aaron, because one by one, they leave. 

“Wow,” Luke muses. “They really trust you.” 

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Aaron says. “Deep down, you know you’re not protecting her. Not by hurting her.” 

“I’m not hurting her,” he says. “She’s always been the one to keep me safe over the years—I’m finally paying the favor back. I’m finally taking her pain away.”

“You were abused as children. Both of you.” Aaron looks at your brother. “Your sister always tried to protect you, but it never worked. It just made it worse for her, and it made you feel worthless. You’re her older brother. You’re the one that was supposed to protect her.”

“My sister said you’re profilers,” he says, and though his tone is lazy, you know your brother. You can tell it’s starting to get to him. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Profiling me?” 

“You would never be good enough for your father, and your mother would never do anything to stop it,” Aaron continues. “All you had was your sister, and even that wasn’t good enough—you hurt her just as much as your dad did. At least your dad didn’t think he was a good person.” 

Luke growls, and he puts a hand on your shoulder to pull you closer to him. “Shut up.” 

“Your sister has told me you can be more than this,” he says. “And I think she’s right. You’re better than this—better than living between the margins and jail.” 

“I’ve had a hole in my chest since I was born,” Luke mutters. “And I’ve tried to stop it, but it’s just grown and grown and grown. This— this aching pit of pain, and he caused it. You’ve got it too— I know it.” 

“I— I do,” you say. And you’re not lying. You’ve had a pit of despair in you for as long as you can remember. The only difference is that you’ve fought every goddamn day of your life to keep it from consuming you. “And it hurts, Luke. Trust me, I know. It took me so long to even be able to deal with it, but I know how to. I can help you—we can both walk out of here.” 

“No,” he whispers. “No—we can’t.”  

“Yes, we can,” you plead. “I love you, Luke. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life helping you if that’s what it takes to get rid of that hole.” 

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him. Aaron never takes his eyes away from you. 

“I’ve never been able to protect her,” Luke murmurs. “Not from our dad, not from the world, not even from you, Aaron Hotchner.” He presses the gun harder than ever into your head, like he wants to bury the metal in your skull along with the bullet. “But that all ends now.” 

You screw your eyes shut. You don’t want to see Aaron’s face when your brother kills you. 

And then it happens so quickly you barely process it. 

There’s two gunshots, almost at the same time. You scream, first because of the gunshots, then because of the sudden roaring pain in your side. There’s a thud next to you, your eyes shoot open, and you see your brother’s lifeless body fall to the ground. 

You scream again—you can’t even control it, it just rips out of you at the sight of the hole in his head and the blood pooling beneath it—and Aaron drops his gun to rush forward. The rest of his team thunders in after him, all in guns and bulletproof vests, and they’re talking, but you can’t focus on a single goddamn thing because your brother’s dead body is right next to you. 

Aaron pulls out a pocket knife and begins to cut through your restraints, and the instant he finishes you collapse. He catches you without a second thought, and you immediately wrap your arms around him. 

Torrential sobs wrack your entire body as you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, every part of you shaking as the reality of it all hits with full force. 

Your brother is a serial killer. He killed ten people, he tried to kill you. And now he’s dead. 

The only part you had left of your family—gone, just like that, with four other families ruined in his wake. 

Aaron’s soft voice in your ear is the only thing bringing you back from the edge of hyperventilation, his own hold on you the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs and he shrugs off his windbreaker to wrap it around your arms. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“He’s gone,” you choke out, voice muffled as you speak into his chest. “He’s gone, and he tried to—”

A fresh round of emotions hit you, unable to get the words out, and you fully break down in Aaron’s arms. 

“I know.”

Aaron’s fingers linger on your side and you feel some dull pain, but you feel his breath still for a moment. 

“You were shot,” he says with your name. “We have to get you to a hospital.” 

You don’t even feel it. God, you don’t feel anything. There’s a distant ringing in your ears, an insistent pain in your skull, and you finally realize Aaron is right when you pull away and see the blood on his fingers. 

But black spots start to fill your vision. You may not feel it, but your body holds the score. The pain intensifies in your side as your adrenaline starts to slow down, and you collapse against Aaron. 

“Get an EMT in here!” he yells, keeping an arm wrapped around you. “We’ve got a GSW— she’s losing blood fast!” 

You can feel Aaron’s rapid heartbeat, can feel his steady arms as he keeps you propped up. You feel the warmth of his body, feel the warmth draining out of yours. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, your strength fading. You don’t think he hears you.

He helps you up and you’re suddenly hoisted onto a stretcher, and he’s beside you as the EMTs run you out of your childhood home. The night is a blurry canvas of red and blue lights, and your eyelids feel like they’re made of concrete. 

“Aaron,” you try again, and you have enough left in you to grasp his cheek. “Thank you.” 

And as the world goes black around you for the second time, you see his lips form your name. 

It’s not a bad thing, you think before darkness overtakes you, for Aaron Hotchner to be the last thing you see before you die. 

-

You wake up in the hospital alone.  

You don’t know what you expect. You have few acquaintances, fewer friends, and the last part of your family is dead after he tried to kill you. 

The real surprise is that you wake up at all. 

Lucas is dead. 

He tried to kill you. You thought he succeeded. 

You let out a slow, even breath, accompanied only by the sounds of beeping machines. It still doesn’t exactly feel real. 

You’ve spent the last two weeks defending your brother against every accusation, and you ended it in the hospital—well and truly alone for the first time in your life. 

You look at the television. Some muted soccer game is playing, and you’re thankful. You were worried that you and your brother would be the topic of the day. 

Who are you kidding? You’re going to be the topic of the year. He killed ten people. He tried to kill you, and you think he nearly did. He shot you, after all. 

You let your head fall back against the pillow. All of your limbs feel insurmountably heavy, your side aches like hell, and you’ve got the worst headache of your life. 

And you can’t stop playing it all over in your mind. 

He was going to kill you. 

Your own brother, your flesh and blood, the only person you had left, tried to kill you and would have killed you had it not been for the BAU. 

Had it not been for Aaron Hotchner. 

The door opens and someone walks through, your eyes following the movement, and when he sees it, he pauses. And so do you—apparently the devil appears even when you think of him. 

“You’re awake,” Aaron says after a moment. It’s the third time he’s sounded surprised since you’ve met him again. Seeing you, finding out your mom is dead, seeing you. 

But there’s relief there, too.

He has a coffee in his hand and his tie is undone, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up to his forearms. It makes you realize his suit jacket has been slung over the back of the chair near your bedside. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask, your brows furrowing ever so slightly. 

Aaron closes the door and sets his coffee on the table before he answers you. “Three days.” 

“And how long have I been here?” 

“Three days,” he says. “You suffered head trauma, they discovered drugs in your system, and… you were shot. You had to go into emergency surgery.” 

You frown, and he answers before you can ask any of them. “…Your brother. After he knocked you out, he used something to… keep you out. And after I shot him, he still got one off—thankfully, as he was falling. The bullet hit you in the side instead of the head.”

“How bad was it?” you ask. 

Aaron glances away. “You died on the table. They managed to bring you back, but…” 

“I guess Luke did succeed,” you say absentmindedly. Aaron doesn’t laugh, and you glance away too. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes.” 

He shakes his head. “If anyone’s allowed to joke about this, it’s you.” 

Your lips twitch for a moment, but then you look back at him as he takes a seat at your bedside again. He looks— god, he just looks tired. Tired and ragged and downtrod, and you can’t imagine you look much better.  

“You were out for two days after,” he explains. “This is the first time you’ve woken up.”

“Why are you here, Aaron?” you ask quietly. “Why have you been here?” 

Aaron frowns. “Where else would I be?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, and you feel the telltale pinpricks of tears. You blink them away before they can start. 

“My brother was a serial killer, Aaron.” Your hands clench into fists as you stare at the wall. “He killed ten people while he was living with me and I— and I didn’t even fucking notice.” Your gaze moves back to him. “I went against all of you because I thought I knew him, and look where it got me.” 

“It’s not a crime to want to see the best in people,” he says. “Especially your family.” 

“It’s a crime to fucking murder people,” you huff, and it’s only slightly unhinged. “I— I thought I knew him, and I didn’t. And if I did, maybe none of these people would’ve had to die.”

“Don’t blame this on yourself,” Aaron demands. “Lucas was lost. Mentally ill. He was on a path for revenge, for his deranged idea of protection—nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.” 

You shake your head. “It might be easy for you to say that, Aaron, but I— I can’t. He’s my brother. I gave him a place to live, I gave him easy access to families— god, I fought with you all for two weeks about his innocence, all while he was planning his next fucking murder!” 

“It is not your fault,” he repeats, slower and enunciating the words. “He was the only member left of your family, and you loved him. You were just stubborn, and that’s nothing new.” 

“I just don’t know what to do.” You’ve had these walls up for so long, especially this past week, and now that everything’s come to a head and you’re in the hospital and your fucking brother is dead, the floodgates have opened. “I have to plan a funeral because I’m the only one left to plan one, but— but does he even deserve one? He’s a serial killer, and he tried to kill me for god’s sake, but he’s my brother and even though he’s gone he’s still all I have left and—” 

You break off as you suck in a huge breath of air, the notion shaky as you clench your hands into fists to keep the rest of your body from doing the same. 

“And I just don’t know what to do,” you repeat, barely a whisper. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes, almost desperately. You feel like you’ll shatter into a million different pieces if you even breathe wrong and he might be the only solid thing in your life. 

“Whatever you do,” he says, “you don’t have to do it alone. Not if you don’t want to.” 

“Aaron,” you start shakily, but he continues. 

“I know what you think, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.” Aaron pauses for a moment, and it’s obvious how carefully he’s crafting his words. “I’ve… always regretted how we left things. And I regret losing touch with you. This isn’t the way I would’ve liked to meet you again. But I’m thankful I have.”

He pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and holds it out to you. You realize it’s his business card, and it’s got his number. 

“I’m sorry for the formality,” he says dryly, “but I don’t exactly go around prepared to give out my number for purposes other than work.” 

You take it without giving yourself the chance to think about it. You run your finger around the sharp edge of the cardstock, pressing the pad of your thumb against the corner. 

“Years ago, you wished me a good life, and that you didn’t want to be involved in it,” he says, still treading carefully. You can’t believe he remembers the last thing you said to him. “But— but a lot has changed since then, and I hope that has as well.” 

“I’d like you to be a part of my life again,” Aaron finally says, “if you want to be a part of mine.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Two and a half years of law school flash behind your eyes—coffee shop dates and endless hours spent studying at the library. Movie nights cuddled on his couch, hauling boxes out of your house at an ungodly hour to get away from your roommates. An unhealthy amount of all-nighters immediately followed by going out to celebrate a miracle of an A on an exam. Getting through every soul-sucking part of earning a J.D. together, falling apart before either of you could make it to the other side, and somehow…

Somehow, you’ve ended up on a completely different side together. 

“My life isn’t going to be easy,” you say faintly. “Especially… moving through this.” 

“My life isn’t easy either,” he says. “I’m divorced with a kid and I try to solve murders every day.” 

“It’s not a contest.” An attempt at a joke, but it falls flat for you. Aaron’s lips still quirk at the edges the slightest bit. 

“Getting through this certainly won’t be easy,” he agrees. “But I have more experience than most in these sorts of things. So if you ever need anything, call. Please.” 

“I imagine you’re pretty busy,” you murmur. “Unit chief and all.” 

Aaron shrugs. “I make time for the things I care about.” 

Thankfully, you don’t have to figure out how to respond to that, because there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse walks in after you call a come in.

“It’s good to finally see you awake, sweetheart,” the nurse says with a smile. It warms you from the inside out. 

“It’s nice to be awake,” you say. Her smile widens and she moves over to the computer in the side of the room—to add some things before she makes her checkup, you assume. 

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Aaron says.

Before he can stand up, you grab his hand. It’s fully on instinct, and he looks just as surprised as you feel.  

“Don’t go,” you plead, and it’s almost a whisper. “I— just— please.” 

Aaron stares at you for a moment, that shock glinting in his eyes before it transforms into something a lot warmer. He nods and sits down. 

“Okay.” 

And he stays. 

This time, he stays.

[hypegirl1]

Underneath the tree(Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader)

AN:MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS EVERYONE AND HAPPY MEW YEAR,I OWE Y'ALL AN APOLOGY IM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING 😭 School killed me and I had no motivation to write,but now I'm on Christmas break so be ready!

Summary:Spending Christmas with your bf Rodrick and opening presents,he tells you he has an extra present he didn't gave you yet

TW:Brainrot(i feel like that's a tw) Word count:744

-Come onnn,do it for me Rod,just once,pretty please??

You were trying to convince your boyfriend to match Christmas sweaters with you,they were the typical ugly sweaters that an auntie would get their nieces for Christmas and would force them to wear them,and you weren't the exception today. You bought 2 matching sweaters for you and Rodrick,and even though he was playing hard to convince,you knew that in the end he REALLY wanted to match with you.

+Fine,but just once,alright?

-Yay!You sure look good Mr Handsome

+Whatever you say Ms Claus

He ruffled your hair,he would do that really often,that's how he showed he loved you

+Well,did you liked your presents?

-Of course! What question is that? I even feel bad you got me all of this stuff...

+Come on,don't say that,anything for my little skibidi

-You need to stop watching youtube kids with Manny you know...and don't call me that,it's weird

+Fiiiine,but,as I said,don't feel bad,you also got me a lot of presents!

-Well I couldn't figure out which one you would like more so I just got everything

And it was true,both of you had gotten each other a lot of presents,but at least now you knew what the other one wanted for next year

+Anything would be fine,if you gave me a rock I would still love it

-Don't say that,of course you wouldn't

+Whatever,are you ready to open your last present?

-My last present?But there aren't any more presents under the tree

+Because I have to-

>Y/N!!!Can you help me find Manny? I don't know where he went!

-Coming Greg! Hold on Rod,I'll be back

+Don't worry princess,I'll just go get your present

You went upstairs to meet nobody,didn't Greg just called you?

-Greg?Manny?Where are you guys?

You tried searching around the house but you couldn't find nobody,thinking this was another prank from Greg,you went back to the living room

-Maybe I just imagined it but I swear-oh! Greg! What are you doing here?

>Oh Rodrick told me that he was going to get your present and it was going to take him some time,so you can just go home by now

-Fine,you better behave when I'm not here

>Yes sir!

You gave the younger sibling a warm smile,you picked up your coat and hat,and of course your presents,and left the Heffley's house,it stopped snowing,the neighborhood was covered in a cold white coat,it looked really beautiful. After walking a few roads down the street you finally arrived home.

-I'm home!

~Hi honey,how did it go?what did you got?

-Hey mom,it went good of course,here,check it by yourself

~Oh no no,I was just asking,I don't wanna go over all your stuff,maybe I'll break something

-If you say so,I'll go put this away

~Why don't you go get your present?

-Hmm?Present?what present?I already have yours and Rodrick's presents?

What was your mom talking about?This morning you had received presents from both your parents ans your boyfriend,did your family from other city sent you something?

~Why don't you go check it by yourself?It's under the tree

You put all your stuff away and headed to the living room where the present was supposed to be,and...it was?Under the tree there was a big present wrapped in red and green paper,with a big red bow on top of it and a tag with a poorly written "Y/N",it had a weird shape,you couldn't tell exactly what it was

-Who's this gift from?

~Open it and you'll see

Your mom was trying her best to hide her laugh,but it didn't worked of course,you gave her a weird look before you started to carefully,usually you wouldn't think twice before agressively tearing of the paper from a gift,but it was different this time as there was something off from this misterious present.

You finally removed all the tape that it had,now it was time to open it...it hadn't even been a second before-

+Merry Christmas!

-Aaahh!!!What the?!Rodrick?What is-what are you-why-what is going on?!

+It's me!I'm your Christmas present!

So THAT was the present that Rodrick was talking about...himself

-You scared the living hell out of me,was that necessary?

+Well I just wanted to try and send you a message

-That the best gift I could ask for Christmas is you?

+Yes!You're so smart

He ruffled your hair and proceeded to give you the biggest and warmest hug ever

-Next time,don't scare me to death

+Sorry

Even though,you found this cute,adorable,the best present you could ask for,the love of your life.

[randomcontentdude]

Alright guys, so there are three topics that ive reflected on lately and I think deserve their own posts: Sex, money and permanence. All of them independent from each other obviously. I feel like I owe you a little recap of the last month. We left off at me leaving my Aunt's in somewhat relief. I had a blast with my childhood best friend, I went to visit cute places then came back home in absolute relief. I did text GG blond over the holidays but I didnt once I got back in the city. he did.

This was unexpected but also everything made sense. He had posted a story saying he's now going to only date ugly men who treat him kindly and the proceeded to text me two days after, making conversation and ultimately inviting me out for climbing. Here's how I feel about it: Just in the same way I would hate to "settle" for someone I dont feel as attracted to, I feel like I dont deserve to be the "ugly man that treats him nicely". I am no greek model but I would say im pretty good looking and I don't deserve to be seen or treated this way. And I think certain situations that I will grasp upon in the sex post have helped me realise how worthy I am of finding someone that likes me and I feel the same about them. Its all about timing and place.

Anyways, anyhow, he asked me to go climbing and I asked to reschedule for the following day since I had finals. we went climbing as a group, my friends were also there, oh dont forget to mention he hugged me when he saw me. we climbed as a group calmly, I was catching a cold at this moment so I was super weak but I managed to stay alive through his hour sesh (I stayed for two hours) and when he was leaving he said "I think im gonna go" to which I answered "alright" and he did not seem to happy about my answer, even debating me with a "hmm?", idk what he expects from me. Did he wanted me to offer dinner with him?

I told popular trio girl everything about gg blond for the first time and she actually thinks im not insane, I thought she was gonna be very judgmental.

I had to handle my exams, an awful cold and living alone at the same time, all I could feel was defeat when performing poor exams over the week, but im trying my best, specially since mom wants me to get a job urgently and I had to handle that too. I did not feel too stressed, and it shows since I havent shown many physical signs of stress (just my typical rash in hands and feet(the feet rash is new(new as in this summer))). Just a constant feeling of defeat, its okay, I can re take them in June, it won't affect me.

I went out on Saturday too and many things went down:

We didnt invite the part of the friend group that 1. wouldn't have like coming 2. wouldn't ave come because we had an exam left. Snowwhite didnt really liked me posting without blocking them but honestly I couldn't cares less if they see or not because I know did nothing wrong

I made out with no one and honestly whilst It sort of took a toll on my ego it ultimately didn't affect me after I left the club, I had a blast with my friends and thats all that matters.

It was a very healthy night out, I drank in moderation and no bad things went down, we just went out, had fun and had little moments

I took a bunch of photos with and of strangers because bad bunny said it "I shouldve taken more pictures

Oh right and, after I left my childhood friend sent me a voice note telling me how even though she loved me and had a great time and all sometimes she fell a little uncomfortable by some joke me and her sister made which valid ofc, but also that she felt like im very pushy in discussions and always try to be right. This is something I have been working on on ever since, and something I keep in mind. This is something I dont want to keep doing.

[vamqiredove]

it is actually so important and crucial that you tell me anymore thoughts you have involving agitha and link, or just some of your tp stuff in general because i would Love to know all your ideas!

im especially intrigued by this au you mentioned whats that all about

UNDERSTOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! will break this up into two bits hopefully its clear enough where the break into speaking abt my au happens

REGARDING THE BUG THING. just in general w/ where link is from [ very rural heavy in nature he literally lives in a tree. he will just bottle up larva with his bare hands. this guy does NOT get squicked out easily !! ] i think he'd not only be chill but enthusiastic about gathering bugs for agitha. i like to think that he's still got that love for learning in him, and hey, here's this kind of bug he didn't know existed ! golden bugs are cool and agitha will tell him about them ! she teaches him how to pin bugs ! maybe make dioramas together !

and idk. it's just a nice break during his journey. he gets to stop going doing hero stuff to bring agitha bugs and i think he'd feel pretty at home in her castle [ again, literally lives in a tree ]. it's a nice break from all the dull colours of castledown once he gets over his countryboy wonder of WHOOAAHHHH THE CITY !!!!!!!!!!! cause like .. the only colour for you to see there is really just what people are selling in the market.

also idk how to explain it. i tend to not really like knight/princess ships when it comes to typical het dynamics, they have to have lots of flavouring to them. but smthing abt agilink scratches the positive itch for that trope ?? link's not a knight. he's just some ranch hand that got forced into all of this. agitha is scorned by everyone around her. the only 'people' she has is her bugs. it feels very autism couple to me. and yeha. yeah agitha autism. the a in agitha stands for autism. you rlly do get her better than nayone i trust no one else to takl about agitha. kewpie only

MY SILLY LITTLE FUCKED UP AU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it's an apocalypse au i started up a while ago originally just of the FSA manga. its called of fire and flesh, which very much reflects its origins bc the 'main character' is red who has an association with fire lmao.

BUT ANYWAYS i decided literally today to make it a general lozverse au bc i wanted to add more characters to it. specifically botw link and tp link, because they're like. my favourite linkcest ship outside of FSA. worth noting that in context of the au unfortunately all selfcest stuff is removed bc they're all entirely different people, and for that reason, taking all the 'link' and 'zelda' and giving them different names for clarity

botw link is still named link just as a reference to how he's the only one you can't change the name of in game, tp link's name is twilliam [ A JOKE TAKEN SERIOUSLY he tends to just go by twi or twilli ]

link's got amnesia, and he's just been kind of floating around the big city for a good while. twilliam was a country boy who grew up on a farm and went to the big city for university. haven't fully decided on WHAT yet but i think he wanted to be a teacher !! anyways. he meets link at some point at the cafe near the campus and they become quick friends. twilliam is naturally already protective of him, but then WOW the zombie apocalypse starts !! the two were together when they evacuated and they've stuck together.

where i'm unsure of what to do is where to add agitha in. should twi know her ahead of time, or would he and link meet her once things start up ? i think, maybe, the three were the only ones in an area when the evacuation notice got blared out, and she stuck with them !!

not like super sure on what ships i'll confirm but in my head. twilliam is arospce bicon with two hands.

link ends up getting infected, and now with agitha here, it adds some fun extra panicTM for twi. link ends up being immune [ he's the ONLY one in the au who's immune. i decided this to reference his "basically fucking dies and is then revived" thing ] BUT he suffered a terrible fever for a few days and it was terrible for everyone involved.

anyways on what i think agitha's deal is, i really don't know, i might give her a connection to sheik and have them both be pageant kids, though while sheik was pulled into the industry and left to suffer his whole life for it, agitha left it. whether she was kicked out for being too "creepy" and "unnerving" or because she wanted to and her parents[?] listened, who knows ! i think i'll yoink your idea of "her mother left her and her dad died, so she's living on her own with whatever funds she has" though it happened later in her life to explain why she wasn't just tossed into the system given this is a modern world au. THAT or she's living with an aunt ? could do some interesting character stuff with that !!!

i think she'd also be very good at foraging, which helps them out a lot with safely finding mushrooms to eat..

...and i guess this could very well lead into crackship territory of agitha x botw link, because when writing polyam i highly prefer "they're all dating each other" with only a few exceptions !! that'd be an interesting dynamic to think about [ and if you DO have thoughts on it pls lmk ]

anyways this au is largely a product of me having apocalypses as a special interest and hating most apocalypse media. a lot of it is just male power fantasy and i hate it. the goal of this au is for the characters to eventually all come together and start a community that's a safe zone with the goal to thrive instead of survive. because in the end, i like when there's hope to the end. as much as i'm a downer about life, i like the fantasy to think that if the world ended, at least some humans could come together to rebuild and, y'know, do Good instead of barely getting by.

also like the usage of guns in these things pisses me off but that's so unrelated hGJDSHJGHDSHDSH

left out a lot tho especially because this is abt agilink and not the entirety of this au. but if u are interested !! i set up a blog specifically to post abt it once i start finishing stuff TO post. idk if i'll reblog my old posts onto it though because i'm unsure how much of it will be retconned [ probably not much ? but eh. i need to finish character profiles before i worry too much about the timeline ] -> @offireandflesh but i have a tag on my main/slaingelo of the au if you'd wanna look n read thru it but that's all just FSA manga exclusive stuff, bc again i only decided to include more characters from the games like. 6 hours ago. i have one singular ficlet somewhere in there that's just red and blue basically having a break up and red being certain blue is dead

[muirneach]

okay. neil time. my official review: guys oh my god he is so good i love him so much. but much more gushing below:

im not retyping all that + setlist. he really did not speak like at all. before fuckin up (i think idr) he DID say ‘my producer died. we’re all gonna die by the way. just something to keep in mind’ which like. okay lol. and then every few songs he would say, and i quote, “hows everyone doin”. we’re doing great neil. but i respect it. anyways the man can play a hell of guitar for someone who is 78. i was just standing there being like my god. thats neil young and he is playing guitar. he’s real and he is so good. phenomenal stuff!! i can tell he was just havin fun with it lol. the horse was also very good. they were friends all having fun!! i want to be more insightful than this but literally like. he’s good guys. he did some really good solos. and i love him. good setlist 👍 losing end i feel like was surprising? but lots and lots of everybody knows which is always good. both the electric and the acoustic sets were wonderful. and i don’t know if it was the sound mixing or what but his harmonica sounded absolutely magical. i like harmonica but i have NEVER heard it that beautiful before.

pics i took lol:

this sign… i could cry. welcome back neily :) also i loved the nya village i had seen pics of it but i didn’t know what it was all about. wow the guy just loves to find his way into my envsci heart. imo it really really felt like the times contrarian come to life because it was a bunch of tables with different themes and they were giving away seeds and talking about agriculture and all that. and i loved that it was very local to toronto (/whatever city he’s in ofc). like they had local alternative magazines and their environment stuff was about here. i loved that level of care. this paper was the only thing i got there and now he lives on my bedside table :)

there was a family of goslings before the show and the moon was out and also there was a severe thunderstorm watch and the show almost got postponed but luckily it didn’t even rain so all was good. oh also its victoria day so people light fireworks and we couldn’t hear them because neil was blasting but we could see them it was nice

oh and lastly. him. typically when i take concert pictures they always suck because they make the performers look so far away even if i have good seats. and like thats true here but honestly i was so far away from the stage that he was so tiny anyways. no jumbotron which is a shame but that is par for the course from neil ‘dont even THINK about filming me’ young. i had a great time tho like i definitely saw him. he’s been playing a lot of small venues but lets remember that toronto goes ALL OUT for that old man and this was a sold out 16k seat venue so i cannot complain i literally got to attend a concert from my all time favourite old man. disbelief honestly. i love u neil!!

[moss-utmv-pockets]

ok ok, enough screwing around. im gonna ramble a lil abt my version of fluffytale now.

so, iirc the original creator of fluffytale is black-nyanko here on tumblr, and the story mainly focuses on ccino sans, who owns and works at a cat cafe with lots of lil kitties that bear suspicious resemblances to various sanses across the multiverse. this is amazing and wonderful and i love it dearly. however. as always, i would also like to think about the other characters.

so uh. what if, in fluffytale, each of the main cast specialized in a different critter? maybe taking care of non-magical animals has become a tradition underground, perhaps because mundane animals are simply more common in fluffytale, perhaps as a direct fuck you to all the humans who thought monsters were inherently evil and heartless, perhaps just because hehe kity.

anyways. heres the guys

sans takes care of kitty cats, and has even opened a cat cafe. obvs. same as og fluffytale

papyrus takes care of dogs, and is always either really good or really bad at training them. if no one can get your dog to stop being a lil menace, bring it to paps! he might just be able to help. it might not LOOK like helping, but chances are after putting papyrus through the ringer, your dog will return to you much calmer and less likely to act out.

gaster.... has some stuff goin on in the og that im not fully up to speed on, but i think he also used to take care of dogs. in fact, so did sans, but he also has a soft spot for cats, and understands that dogs and cats dont always mix. besides, papyrus is more than capable of handling the dogs.

undyne specializes in reptiles of all kinds, but typically cares for snakes and lizards. especially lizards, although snakes tend to be more popular with others. she claims it's just because she understands how to take care of scaly things, since she herself has scales, but anyone who's seen her interact with the royal scientist knows better.

speaking of alphys, she doesnt specialize in any animal per se (partially because she feels like she cant really properly look after any living thing after what happened with the amalgams OOPS) but instead builds terrariums and other habitats! she mostly ends up building stuff for reptiles, but also for fish and amphibians. she'd have to ask for a friend's help to build a proper habitat for cats or dogs though- they tend to need a lot more space, and they certainly aren't her specialty.

mettaton isn't really much of a pets guy- or at least, that's what he tells you. but he is clearly interested in more exotic pets that are often more difficult to take care of of- obviously because they're so unique and glamorous. not because he has a soft spot for anything different. unless you're friends, of course, in which case he's very open about how interesting he finds rarer pets.

napstablook still takes care of snails. just thought id mention them.

toriel takes care of all sorts of small things, namely bugs! snails too, and worms and such, but mostly bugs. she just thinks theyre neat! and tasty! ....and, chara was also rather fond of bugs.

asgore didn't originally intend to specialize in any type of animal pet- he was rather busy with his flowers, after all. but gardens tend to attract bugs, and bugs tend to attract birds- and, well, he kinda realized how much he loves the feathery lil guys. and they make so much noise too, the house is never quiet anymore. he can't bring himself to change the house's layout, but he has added lots of little bird cages and stands and feeders and such in and around the royal house, and birds can often be seen flying in and out of the windows. if you're ever lost in new home, just look up - you will likely see a bird flying to or from the royal house, which is in the center of the city.

[weeniebagel]

Top 20 favorite Magic cards?

i dont play magic much at all anymore because i hate secret lairs but i do still sometimes run games of pauper or commander or paupermander

idk if ill list 20 cards but heres some favorites (under a read more because it may be a bit lengthy idk)

i like it when commander games are fast and everybody feels like they get a chance to play. this? does that. ramps you and each other player. lets you get consistent lands without explicitly making one player gain a massive advantage. gets you MAJOR brownie points at the table while making it all run smoothly. and just 2 mana! if im playing white i typically run this

mono black devotion is a very fun deck in pauper. being able to drop this guy each turn 4 turns in a row is a surefire way to make me smile like an idiot. being able to bounce em in multiplayer is nice, too, without feeling too busted usually. i appreciate indirect damage

when i first learned about paupermander (commander but you only use commons and an uncommon creature for your commander) i immediately set out to make something heinous. my first deck i popped together in just a few minutes was a lil midrangey elves and goblins deck, that just so happened to have a few infinite damage combos to wipe out any other player. ive since made even stronger decks that i like more, but grumgully will always have a special place in my heart

i like merfolk! theyre a fun tribal to run in lots of lil formats. true name is especially satisfying as a way to enforce pressure on heavily defended players. i like a lot of merfolk cards but this one comes to mind for some reason

first pauper deck i ever tried and enjoyed? blue green fog. favorite part of it? having 8 fog effects with just one playset of this one card. felt good to know i could pop some fogs consistently for p darn cheap.

my first time played legacy, i tried out monored prison. i managed to simian spirit guide and city of traitors into a turn one blood moon and my opponent who had a grip full of exclusively fetch lands just conceded turn 0. never before have i played with as perfect a balance of time spent playing to enjoyment. sorry for enjoying stun but i do

commander is full of fun creatures to build decks around, but grenzo is probably my all time favorite. it feels so nice to just pop stuff out of the bottom of your library for 2 mana. theyres so many strong cards with just 2 power! hell, even MORE with 3! its soooo satisfying to just play fast and wild and chaotic and let the cards flow how they may. sure it can be optimized so you get nutty and consistent combos, but personally its satisfying to open up the box and see what i get.

now, on the subject of favorite commanders, accidentally making a super strong food deck sure was something. im at the point with deckbuilding where even tryin to make something functional but not *too* strong is impossible, since synergies are so nutty these days.

stuffing this guy (and similar effects, really) into any deck just feels good. i love indirect damage and control effects since i tend to stack up creatures to defend myself more than anything, so consistent ways to blow up the table without hedging too many risks is nice. its a lil bull, honestly, but it works for me.

if im playing mono red i always run valakut. its that simple. i have very little nonbasics in mono red, so i can rock valakut and feel chuffed when i get to ping people down for just playing lands. i try not to avoid landfall decks because theyre just rewarding you for doing things every deck wants to do, but i do like valakut as a small bonus

last one because im tired. sometimes friends want to play a commander game and im not in the mood for something long. as such, i decide to get hectic and see what silly things i can get away with. if i can kill the whole table in one turn im happy, even if im dying at the same time. funny every time, really.

i still check out new sets but i dont play all that much. i just play on cockatrice with buddies these days, but i am looking into other TCGs these days. recently got a digimon deck built lol

[cityofsinx]

✑ main ✑ bio ✑ face ✑ muse ✑ wishlist ✑

about:

This is a sideblog, and I follow back from my main @grimmusings. Please direct IMs there, since it's easier for me to keep all my messages on one blog. It's also easier to start interactions with me there, where I regularly post open starters and meme prompts. For a full list of rules, see my main. Honesty hour questions will largely be answered IC and treated as anonymous unless signed by a muse.

All details vary based on verse, but in general I write Nancy based on the Sin City (2005) film, with occasional elements or connections from the comics pulled in as needed. However, her primary verses and character arc will come from the first film, without influence from A Dame to Kill For (2014) unless specifically plotted. I’m happy to write her into AUs and fandom crossovers, but for ease, I typically write as though Basin City exists within the Marvel/DC universes as a lawless entity unto itself, much like Madripoor.

And now, some warnings! Sin City contains quite a lot of triggering material, specifically:

Nancy is a stripper at Kadie's nightclub and still is in some verses, so this may be written out occasionally and referenced often.

She's also canonically in love with a man old enough to be her father, so there will be legal age gap shipping here.

Finally, she's been the target of a rapist/pedophile (Roark Jr. / That Yellow Bastard) once or twice, verse depending. I will not be exploring that theme in depth in any threads, since I'm not comfortable writing underage/non-con, but it will be referenced from time to time as part of her history.

If you’re not comfortable with these concepts, that’s perfectly fine, but this isn’t the muse for you.

wanted connections:

This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I can roll with most muses as far as basic interactions. I’m happy to ship Nancy with other comics characters and OCs/fandom crossovers based on chemistry. There is never any pressure to ship with me, even if they're on my list.

OTPs: John Hartigan Possible Ships: Dwight, Johnny, Wade Wilson, Frank Castle, most antiheroes (she's soft for all the tough guys with good hearts) NOTPs: Roark family, Kevin Other: Marv (<3), Eric Draven, any Marvel/DC muses

default verses:

sin city: This verse takes place during the time Nancy is a law student and a dancer at Kadie's, after John Hartigan's release from prison and Roark's second attack. It may or may not acknowledge Hartigan's death.

a really good lawyer: After Hartigan and Roark's deaths, Nancy finishes law school and becomes a lawyer, fighting the corruption in Basin City much the way her hero did. It does not acknowledge the events of A Dame to Kill For.

multiverse!madness: Various comics universes collide, whether Marvel/DC/etc. have always existed on the same Earth, or other-dimension shenanigans are at work. Duplicate friendly!

verses by request only:

I'm happy to write these, but since they're more specific AUs, I don't default on them for asks/memes. Please feel free to request them.

a dame to kill for: Nancy goes down a darker path after Hartigan's death and seeks revenge on the Roark family.

gods & avengers: Comics characters are reincarnations of Greek gods. Nancy is vaguely aware of Persephone's power manifesting in her, but she has yet to realize her true identity.

welcome to westview: A month after being Blipped back into existence and still heartbroken over Hartigan's death, a grieving Nancy joins Wanda in Westview for her happily ever after.

[talaxyan]

hello from 2023

hiiiiiii

it's so funny to think that all the posts from this tumblr are all just for me in the future but I hope it's gonna be another good reflection to see what I was like in the past.

but let me give you a little update since the last time I was here ((THERE WERE A LOT!!!))

ok first of all. im unemployed now, I graduated college 4 months ago and still haven't been able to land a job- I'm on my last round of interview for this pharmaceuticals company tho and I REALLY HOPE I GET THE JOB BECAUSE IM DESPERATEEEE. if I don't get an offer soon my OPT might expires meaning it'll be harder for me to escape indo.

as much as i love being at home and spending most days with my nieces and having no worry at all, I miss doing something intelligent like doing all the academic weapon I was supposed to be doing. it was hard landing a job yall, I swear I've applied to at least 400+ job but still 0 offer. IM REALLY HOPING THIS PHARMA JOB WORKS OUT I REALLY WANNA GO BACKKKKKK I wanna live in city I can wander around please

anyway, on the fun part ((my nonexistant love life))

in 2022, i went for a semester abroad in LONDON AND IT WAS WILDDDDD like really good experience and I love london so much I wish to go back there again and visiting my london fam innit- it was surprising really good like i had a solid friendgroup in just a month of settling down (shout out to SHAIMA LOVE U SO MUCH GURL) i went travelling to edinburg and Stonehenge. it was a surreal experience.

oh and i was on dating apps while in London and I got the taste of love (a little bit). my first ever date was really good, i'd give it 7/10 I wasn't that attracted to this dude but he was smart and caring at least before he became annoying and called me a self-obsessed girl- like dude HOW CANT I BE OBSESSED OVER MYSELFF? anyway I didn't continue talking to him because I really thought I should give an ugly guy a chance just bc he seems nice personally but he really wasn't so I went to 7 more dates after that--- ND I GOT MY FIRST EVER KISS??? LIKE HELLO? this dude I kissed, we met on tinder and I went to his place the night I first saw him and I gave him a glockglock3000 it was crazy-- but after that night I learnt why people like dick- and he got a pretty one too and it tasted sweet?????? maybe from the lube he was using but we didn't do the full thing cuz I was kinda hesitant cuz I BARELY KNOW HIM OFC??? but yea I learnt some things but my experience with men in general wasn't really working out bc ALL I WANT IS LOVE and it seems like u cant really find that on dating app.

other than that, i cut off some people from my life. it was sad but I think its about time. this girl I really wanted to befriend with since freshman year, we ended became bestie and even lived together in the apartment, but I think it was really toxic tbh- it think the more I knew people, the more I feel like I withdrew myself form them.thats kinda scared me because I really wanted to accept people the way they are but it was really not good having her around- for some reason in social settings, everytime I spent time wth her, it just irritaes me more and that made me realize that friendship wasn't supposed to be like that, it shouldn't cost you your mental health to be living with your friend so yeah, after graduation, I never contacted her and she also never contact me either so it's mutual I think

my time at skidmore was overall fun, I went to typical college parties, got drunk and wasted but it was all really fun. i love my girl friends my bbygurl I love them so much and they made my time at skidmore 100000x so much better. i would be a lot more miserable if it wasn't because of them. there was rough patches along the way but we are good friends so I was able to let go everything and keep our friendship eventho now w graduated and harder to see each other but I really hope to meet them again<3 I love them thao kim connie rebecca and my isu babies<3

my plan now is hoping i land that job in Boston > lease an apartment > fly from jakarta and meet natan > relocate to Boston and get my stuff at Uhaul in Albany > starting working and getting the sense of really world > SAVE A LOT OF MONEY SO I CAN SPOIL MY LOVED ONES AND MYSELF

i think i can do it. delusion is the key and I quite frankly believe in myself. i really hope so I wish.

so yeah, thats mostly the update from me. hopefully in the next post I can give you a better news and more GOOD STORY FROM MY LOVE LIFE yea. ok goodbye for now and I see u later

[paintwithtears]

i didn’t say my last goodbye yet.

typed right on the way to Jakarta from Solo, Thursday 13 July 2023.

At that time I once said, maybe I would be sad if I didn’t continue my studies in Jakarta because Jakarta was already attached to my memory. I really love Jakarta because it’s my hometown. I love Jakarta because almost all of my life has lived there. In Jakarta I know a lot of cool people who want to be my friends. This is a bit ridiculous. But yes, I love Jakarta. At least i do it because that’s my lovely city.

But there’s a lot of different things in Solo. Jakarta is already familiar to me, while Solo is still foreign. Even so foreign to me who just came here again after five years. If you’re in Jakarta, it’s always busy from morning to afternoon to evening. While Solo is the opposite. But in Solo it’s also crowded, but it doesn’t matter if you want to walk slowly for a while. You can look right and left a little, you can walk slowly, you can take a breath too. Unlike in Jakarta, those who join need to hurry so they don't get left behind by the others.

Regarding urban planning, I like dim solo lights. Keep it bright but the impression is warm. There are many crossroads that I think are exciting because they are not too narrow, different from Jakarta. It tends to be narrow and many drivers don’t obey the rules. The plan was for me to walk a lot in Solo, but again I was pressed for time for something else.

The first and second days I helped a lot with things to move from grandma’s house. The third day I just had time to walk. There’s not much to go. Only had time to go to the Surakarta Kasunanan Palace, Kauman Batik Village, Gede Market, Klewer Market. But I also passed Manahan, Sriwedari (too bad I didn’t get to watch wayang orang), and also Pura Mangkunegaran!!

I can’t say the third day is special or not. Only at that time, because I was wearing glasses, I finally could see my cousin clearly. OK, he’s the same age as me. I should call him ‘Mas’ because he is a few months older than me. I need to admit he’s into the typical guy that I usually have a crush on. And what’s even more plot twist, he has a special style that makes him very similar to Doyoung (my wrecker bias in Treasure). And when I told Meu, SHE AGREED THAT MY COUPLE LOOKS LIKE DOBBY HAHAHAHAHAH.

His name is Ednik. His first name has a baptismal name that I dare not mention here. The little picture in the living room looks exactly like little Dobby. He’s totally my type. I want to meet but I’m afraid to go first. And suddenly there are friends. Which I can’t be smart enough to get to know him myself. Maybe I’m just better than this, I haven’t tried, it really seems to stick with life.

Tonight will be the last night I see him. Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll see him again. Could it be another month, another ten months, or a year? Ten years?? But the funny thing is, when I got home I didn’t dare to look at him for the last time. Even though he came out of the house to say goodbye, Im still didn’t dare look at him.

Maybe that’s also what makes me feel bad from last night. Felt something odd this morning. Felt really sad before getting into the station. And cried (really) right when the train started to leave Solo Balapan Station. I’m still sad even now typing this on the train with my super laptop.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t decide to get to know him the right way, or maybe it’s because I don’t dare to look at his face (as well as his eyes), or maybe because I didn’t say my last goodbye yet.

[krazykatrina21]

The perfect day.

Of course it fell on the 21st of April. i have experienced such a beautiful day. such a wholesome and promising beginning to my next chapter. it all makes sense now. it all makes sense why i had to go through all of that pain. its like the missing puzzle piece found its way beautifully to me. it survived the most treacherous days and exhausting nights and yet it is completely pure. it preserved all the way to the end. i preserved through the tunnel into the blissful light. i m tainted but its for the best because flowers grew from my cracks. today proved that. its so calming. im sitting on the balcony in my city apartment looking out into the endless horizon. i finally feel ready and strong enough to walk into my next chapter. matt feels like a fever dream. but the kind where the chills stay on your skin even after youve woken up. i want these chills to stay, to remind me of what i survived, of what i learned. i love him but i need to from afar. having him in my life as a constant was just so horrible. i cant even think of a better and more intense way to describe it because i dont even want to think about it that much. Its not what i want anymore and the rose colored lenses hve been smashed. i really dont like the guy. im sad and still have my obsessive tendensies consitantly looking at his social media but it doesnt spend chills down my spine anymore, its more of a bad habit rather than an addiction filled with heartbreak. im sure it will stop soon, i hope it does becasue it does hurt sometimes its like im some kind of sadist. inflicing pain onto myself even when i was strong and smart enough to walk away from  it.... its honestly a bit frustrating and i need to make a consious effort to stop because it does not add to my life but poses the threat of pain. i have such a beautiful life ahead of me i cant allow my brain and habits regress me into the past. today is the proff of that. i woke up strong, i had ended it with matt last night for what felt like the final time because i feel diffrent. not going to mislead here but each time i ened it i have felt diffrent but its like this indffrence to fixing it has been a very steady build up to today. i no longer feel the need to help matt. instead i oured that energy into my father. the primary and onconsious person that loove was trusy meant for. i had my coffee and completed my work asignments and then i sxcurried off to pick  my dad up for his birthday, on the way i recived a phone call from matt letting me know he was able to give me my kety back but then asking if i wanted to go on a boat with him... typical i thought, he doesnt take me seriously.i  saidd no and i got my key. he looked exhausted, i mean he always looks exhausted but this was a broken down exhaustion. he had been spending the last few days with mina and her cying gradparents. his ex. i was understanding and honestly just over it. i go tmy key back and went about my day and my father called me after and let me know it was the best birthdya of his life he was out of his shell and made so may friends after giving me shit about even going. he loed it. it is the perfect day.

[abcdosaka]

i have not posted on here in a while. idk various things have happened. but heres the most recent stuff.

this is sorta fresh (literally 2 days ago) but im mostly over it i think? i made a hinge account and briefly talked to this girl and i liked talking to her but i think i just dont know how to rizz someone up, or maybe ik and i dont have the courage to do it so i gotta play nice girl from the start. and i think our second phone call i was just kinda lacking in energy and i wasn’t texting her too often either. but at the end of it she was like lets just be friends going forward.

i havent really had any experiences before, like real ones where i was the one initiating everything, so it hurt, kinda like getting rejected for a job interview. i was like ig im just not outgoing or funny or charming enough but damn we talked like twice on the phone, we never even met up, that quick huh.

tbh i think i initiated slightly more and she was less interested and she also made it pretty clear she wasnt sure about getting into a relationship. idk its not worth analyzing. we do have a lot of similar tastes but if she wants to be friends she has to initiate and i might blow her off anyway i dont feel like talking to her anymore lol. or maybe ill respond but just really slowly. ik its giving nice guy/friendzoned. ehhh i might respond she was nice/friendly enough i just need time to get over it fully. i think this is a lets see how im feeling in a week situation. to be fair sometimes good friendships pop up out of bad experiences for me like i thought D was a huge dick when i first met him but we got along well for the time we knew each other

idk i would rather have someone who knows what they want and is certain about it too. but in the first place i dont even want to talk to ppl like its such a hassle texting randoms multiple days in a row. i got a couple other likes and i just ignored them. ive ghosted two ppl bc i just was sick of the texting going nowhere.

tbh i think im just sad bc my ego’s a little bruised. but idk that happens to me easily like applying for a job sucks and it hurts to get rejected and having a job kinda sucks too but its required. relationships, kinda the same but i dont think its required? they never seemed that great or fun or loving to me, prob bc my parents hated each other for 90% of my childhood. even when i see relationships in fiction im like oh cute but idk if i really need that.

im more upset that i dont really have anyone to talk to about this stuff. and im upset s didnt wanna meet over reading week. like besties for 10 years but you couldnt free up a space for me even tho i asked like 3 weeks ago. idk if i can even call us besties. i used to be so insecure abt what kinda friendship we had but now im kinda sick of this. maybe i should ask. i kinda hate feeling needy or sounding clingy though. idk i was pretty friendly in my response

she didnt even receive it T_T

idk she hasnt responded to any messages frequently for the past month so shes probably really busy but ugh i fucking hate this. i just wish she’d check in for once like “hey sorry ive just been really busy the past month and havent had the energy or time to respond but hopefully ill have some time soon”. cuz the thing is its kinda typical of her to flake/be distant/antisocial. like after we graduated hs she ignored my messages for a month and she promised not to do that again. and when we hung out for the last time before i moved for uni she overslept and i think shes done that two or three times since. its really frustrating when we dont get to see each other than often. so if i ask her its gonna be like this is an isolated incident but its not and im prob not gonna see her again after i graduate uni bc i wanna move across the country. and we almost never call bc everytime i ask she doesnt want to. i think thats just her hating calling but how tf else are we supposed to stay in contact when we live in different cities??? and texting for hours on end is fking annoying? same difference ik a bit hypocritical there but also, calling means u can multitask but texting means u have to focus solely on texting unless you wanna respond every 2 hours or even worse, every 5 minutes, theres no flow unless you pay full attention to texting.

and the thing that sucks even harder. is that we had a mutual friend, j, who was her BESTIE for middle school and almost all of highschool. (i had a crush on this chick btw but never told her and i kinda stopped talking to her in senior year). and j did the same fucking thing like she decided she didnt wanna talk to people she knew before highschool anymore and basically just slowly cut s out of her life. and s was so upset abt it she told me abt it a lot

see the thing is if i do confront her about ALL of this, i  think its gonna go the worst way possible. like we will slowly drift apart and im gonna lose my closest friend who probably doesnt even consider me at least one of her closest friends. and then im fucked. i mean im not fucked but im starting from ground zero.its really hard not having someone you know you can rely on. altho maybe shes not the most reliable and ive been coping by pretending im independent and dont need anyone for emotional shit. maybe im just catastrophizing. like on one hand, i truly am unsure enough abt our friendship that idk if she’d make an effort after i move real far. but on the other hand i am a known pessimist and i suck at this people bullshit. so idk if i should ask or not.

ugh i shouldnt have wrote this. i was like “if i go in depth on this post i wont be able to stop and then im gonna cry and i dont wanna cry. i should try to keep it light.” like lol. at least it was good practice for typeracer. im gonna do one race and go to sleep. this is frustrating

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[impulsivelybart]

PLS LONG DISTANCED BOYFRIENDS-

like damian thought it wouldn’t work after they both graduated hs, but jon was determined. damian would constantly stress out that Jon is having a better time w/o him & would accidentally isolate himself bye </3

had to refill my creative juice but WE BACK IN HERE FELLAS 🤸🏻

people often assume out of all them tim or dick grayson would be the one who overthinks the most. they're not wrong, but they aren't exactly right either

damian stayed in gotham for college while jon went to coast city after graduating

damian didn't really mind the distance in fact he said it'll do them good actually if something bad happens and have them separated, so they can be prepared

even if that meant losing sleep over his night terrors

jon makes sure to contact him during their time apart; good morning texts, pics of birds he sees on his walks (look it's a damian!) etc. jon has his worries too

one time while dick and jon were texting dick tells him of damian's sleepless nights and how much he missed him

jon feels terrible of course. because he knows how bad his boyfriend's terrors are but he can't do anything about it cause of the distance and classes so, he sends damian a text asking to video call

damian...isn't really a big fan of video calls cause it brings back memories of all the times he's tried to appease his grandfather (ra's) only to be let down & shut out time and time again

no shade to the ra's al ghul enjoyers tho– just im not really fond of that guy despite how gilf-able he is

in typical bat fashion damian tries distracting himself by taking on cold cases the other bats couldn't solve or just abandoned altogether just to spite tim and also cause i headcanon him as being a bit of an overachiever (he's talia al ghul and the batman's son, self explanatory really) all the while 'accidentally' isolating himself

lian and maya call him out on this

"how do you accidentally isolate?!" "he's damian, maya." -colin

so jon is on edge the whole time because his boyfriend haven't responded to him in weeks meanwhile damian is constantly in a state of stress and overthinking

they are idiots. mae

it took him a while to actually respond and when he did jon was so relieved

even if it's only damian's eyes showing jon was still so happy to see him, eyebags and all

damian explained his situation to jon and surprising jon by spilling a couple tears, jon chides him gently before telling that there is no one in this world, planet, century for jon but damian. that he'd pick him over anything and that he's a doofus

damian: hmm, you will pick me over naruto?

jon: well...

all in all, they are disgustingly in love boyfriends

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?