#somebody hug these poor boys

[sodamnbored]

Catching Up

Thalia: So what happened after Juno took you? Where did you go? Were you safe, happy?

Jason, uncomfortably brushing her off: Well, it��s a long story and kind of a bummer haha. You don’t wanna hear that right now.

Thalia, softly: Jason, I’ve waited thirteen years to hear your sad stories.

[axstoria]

I'm imagining a fresh-out-of-the-Pit Jason standing in front of the mirror and being scared of who's looking back at him.

When he died, he was in green boots and a yellow cape, barely scraping Batman's chest in height. His eyes were blue and the only scars he had were the few from training and the occasional scrape in the field.

Now, his height rivals his mentor's, his eyes are green, and everything hurts. He has so many scars that he can hardly recognize what used to be soft skin and knobby knees.

He hits his head on doors and cabinets and forgets to buy the right size of shoes. His head aches and his back hurts, and all he can think about is blood and death.

Robin gave him magic, but death gave him an unfathomable anger and a bloodlust he could not control.

He doesn't know who this man is looking back at him, but all he knows is that now, he can reach the top shelf in the pantry, his clothing size has gone up to an XL, and he's no longer his Dad's son.

[averageclawcodeenjoyer]

You guys ever be thinking about Miles G (constantly) and wonder if he still calls his dad's number. If he texts him every day about his day, no matter if it was good or bad or whatever, and he watches the messages that he sends turn green. If he scrolls all the way to the old texts when his dad was still alive (and it breaks his heart all over again when they're gone).

If he has a super bad day and calls the number just to hear the voicemail (it never helps. It only just makes him feel worse. He does it on purpose. He doesn't think he should be allowed to stop mourning and have a good day without his father. It feels wrong to be happy when his favorite person is dead.)

If he leaves his own messages, crying, getting mad at himself for crying, blames himself and his dad, and then hangs up and throws his phone in a flurry of violent emotions that no 15 year old should have to feel so strongly. If he tells himself that he doesn't care at all anymore and then later at night he lays in bed thinking and trying to remember what his dad smelled like, and what his hugs felt like.

Later when the phone number expires and gets passed onto someone else and he finds out, how hard he cries and struggles to remember what he sounded like (because those memories have been blocked due to a trauma response)

If he hates himself for not being able to remember.

If he hates himself for not talking to him every day when he was alive. For taking his father for granted.

If he regrets every fight and argument they ever had.

If he wishes he was a better kid.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Elastic Heart Ch 7 (Linked Universe story)

Summary: When Sky goes missing, the Chain scrambles to figure out where he is and what happened before it's too late.

(AO3 link)

First

<<Previous // Next>>

Hyrule Castle hardly felt like the safest place for any of the Links given most of their adventures, but it was as good a place to regroup and heal as any other. Although the entire group was well aware that the knights were useless, and the whispers of nobility hung close over their shoulders, the queen gave them as much privacy as possible and lent her best healers to their cause.

The next twenty-four hours were a somber affair. The heroes kept vigil at the beds of their fallen friends. When they weren’t fretting over them, they were wandering aimlessly, too forlorn for words and too anxious for rest.

It was late into the night after their return from the desert, and Time was staring into a fire contemplatively, his mind still trying to process everything. Twilight had already eased him out of his armor, which had been silently hidden until it could be cleaned of Sky’s blood. Somehow, despite all his experience, Time still seemed to be the least functional when someone was this injured.

How was it that in the span of four weeks he’d almost lost two of his boys? He still hadn’t figured out what had led to this, why Sky had been so terrified, so insistent that they leave, why he’d been apologizing with his dying breath.

There was just… so much. All of it was too much. The Shadow, Sky, all of it. Why had the Shadow taken his form and then spoken such words about Sky creating him? Was that why Sky had been so concerned with eliminating it himself? Some words about a curse, lies hissed between demonic teeth about how Sky had somehow made this mess?

Goddesses above… what had that thing convinced Sky? No matter what had started this… surely Sky wasn’t blaming himself for it?

That had to be the issue. Sky, sweet and soft, always in the background until he decided it was time to cause a little mischief… the boy had always been the least of Time’s concerns when it came to causing actual trouble. He’d always seemed the calmest, the most put together, the least traumatized, the most normal. Between that and his adoration for a sword Time would rather see at the bottom of Lake Hylia, the boy had never really been someone that Time had to keep a close eye on.

Yet here he’d been, taking on the weight of their journey himself and trying to leave the others behind. He’d nearly gotten himself killed for it.

Time had assumed the position of leader in this group and he’d nearly failed in recognizing when one of its members was in desperate need of help.

How long had Sky been spiraling like this? What had led him to this point? Had the Shadow spoken to him on the night he’d taken watch? Had it started before then? Did he blame himself for Twilight’s injury as well? What else was he hiding? What curse had the Shadow been talking about?

Time heard footsteps, and he turned to see the veteran walking morosely through the room, pointedly ignoring his leader. Twilight stood at the entranceway to the room sectioned off for their two fallen brothers, arms crossed as he watched Legend leave. When Time’s eye met his own, he said, “Finally convinced him to go to bed.”

“How are you holding up?” Time found himself asking before he could stop himself. He was worried for all of them, especially his descendant, who naturally took others’ wellbeing and protection as his own personal responsibility. They were all heroes, they all felt that burden, but his Ordonian made it his life’s mission to protect his loved ones far more than anyone else.

Not to mention Time had been doing a terrible job of checking in on anyone.

Twilight sighed tiredly. “I… would feel better if I were the one in the bed. It’s way worse just being the one helplessly looking on.”

Time would rather not relive the events of a month ago, but he knew what Twilight meant. It was the worst feeling in the world, being a child of destiny, someone who was so used to fixing all the problems, and being stuck in a situation where there was absolutely nothing to do.

“I know,” Time said simply, resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Cap’s still in there,” Twilight said quietly, eyes looking at the ground as his own emotions got the better of him. “I managed to get the rest out. Vet was the last.”

Time hadn’t even been in there since their arrival. Warriors hadn’t left the boys’ side. It was almost as if their positions were reversed from the last time. He wasn’t sure he should be happy about it or not. He felt almost guilty for not hovering the same way, but he’d been fairly useless last time. It would be better if he could actually help the others as Warriors had, but he’d spent the majority of the day in a daze, guided around by Twilight, who had taken the captain’s role in guiding and leading everyone else.

What an insane week this turned out to be.

“Get some sleep,” Time finally said, patting Twilight’s cheek affectionately before lowering his hand.

Twilight watched him uncertainly, biting his lip and nodding. He walked by without another word. The eldest Link took a steadying breath, heading into the room.

It was a fairly small chamber, with both beds’ headboards against the same wall. Time saw Warriors asleep in the chair between the two, scooted a little closer to Hyrule’s bed. The captain was dressed down in his undertunic and pants, scarf and armor set aside in his own quarters. Time pulled an extra blanket that was folded by the bedside and wrapped it gently around his fellow hero. Despite his attempt to be gentle, the captain stirred, one of the lightest sleepers in the group, and turned bleary eyes towards his elder.

“Go to bed,” Time said softly. “I’ll watch them.”

Frazzled and exhausted, Warriors let out a weary exhale, rubbing his face. Time thought better of his dismissal, recalling that the captain had checked in on him in the past, that he himself had just checked in on Twilight. He shouldn’t brush off the man just because he held himself together better than anyone else.

“It’ll… be all right,” he tried to reassure the man hesitantly.

Warriors stiffened, shoulders shaking, much to Time’s alarm. However, instead of sobs, he heard an amused snort. The captain looked up, eyes exhausted but somewhat alight. “You’re really not good at this whole emotional support thing, are you?”

Despite his own mood, Time found himself scowling mildly. “That bad?”

“Your tone isn’t reassuring at all.”

“I’m not used to saying things that…”

“That you don’t believe?” Warriors finished for him. “Me neither. That’s why I try distraction instead.”

Time huffed, looking between the two sleeping boys. They both looked so peaceful now. Not pale, not on death’s door, not desperate or begging for forgiveness.

He sighed heavily as his gaze returned to the captain. Not recognizing he was under scrutiny, Warriors had let his expression be more open, fear and worry pulling at him. He looked so damn tired. He’d seen this too many times. Time himself had seen the expression when Twilight had been dying.

Warriors was far more accustomed to this than any of them. And Time hated that.

The captain shifted to get up, but then he paused, staring at the bed. Time followed his gaze, watching with sudden intensity as their esteemed traveler scrunched his nose and twisted in bed a little, eyes fluttering open.

“Traveler? Link?” Warriors leaned forward alongside Time, his hand gently reaching for Hyrule’s shoulder.

The Hero of Hyrule blinked a few times, seeming to register his surroundings, and then he gasped, practically leaping into a seated position. Time immediately sat on the bed just as Warriors jumped forward, both placing steadying hands on the teenager’s shoulders.

“Sky!” Hyrule immediately exclaimed, squirming under their hold.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Warriors insisted, putting a second hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s here.”

Hyrule paused, panting for air, eyes wide and wild, before they settled on the pair. “He’s okay?”

Time and Warriors exchanged a look before the leader spoke. “He’s here.”

Hyrule huffed, eyes wet, and then he laughed shakily, tucking his knees into his chest. “I—I thought—I thought he—I—”

He laughed again, more nervous than before, entire body trembling. Warriors settled on the mattress beside him, arm wrapping around his shoulders carefully. Hyrule wasn’t the most comfortable with touch and usually didn’t engage in it, and neither Warriors nor Time were particularly cuddly men, but after everything, they all felt the need to stick close to each other. The traveler leaned into the hold, tears trailing down his cheeks as he continued to chuckle, his breaths quickly accelerating into something akin to panic and relief, a conglomeration of emotions crashing out of him in a fashion that he couldn’t control. Warriors held him tighter.

“We’re glad you’re alright,” Time said softly, his thumb tracing across the boy’s collarbone. “You scared us back there.”

“Yeah, what with the Triforce and all,” Warriors piped up, squeezing Hyrule a little more tightly as he smiled. “You sure did have quite the trick up your sleeve.”

Hyrule’s tearful relief evaporated in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. Time felt his own concern rise – did the boy not remember using it?

“It’s okay,” Time assured him. “We’re all heroes here, Traveler. We’ve borne pieces of the Triforce as well. I just didn’t realize one among us had carried the entire sacred relic. That’s quite an honor.”

“R-right,” Hyrule mumbled, looking at his knees.

“How are you feeling?” Warriors asked, brushing past the distressing topic.

“Where’s the Triforce?” Hyrule countered.

The elder pair glanced at each other again before answering honestly. “We… don’t know. It vanished once you’d finished using it.”

Hyrule watched them a moment, still and silent. Then he buried his head into his knees.

“We’ll find it,” Warriors assured him. “One way or another. Such an artifact stretches far beyond our understanding – it might have returned to your era.”

“I—I didn’t want him to die,” Hyrule said in a trembling voice.

“We know,” Time soothed gently, sliding his hand along Hyrule’s back. “We didn’t want that either.”

Hyrule glanced up at him, cheeks stained with tears once more. “He’s okay, right?”

Time swallowed. Sky remained quiet in the other bed. He pushed lightly on the teenager. “Get some sleep, Link.”

XXX

It was the middle of the night when Legend finally gave up on sleeping.

His mind was whirling too much. Watching Sky basically die right in front of him, watching Hyrule nearly kill himself with the effort to wish him back with the Triforce…

It had been entirely too familiar.

He thought he’d gotten passed that. He thought he’d learned to keep moving in spite of the shadows cast over him by his journeys.

Clearly he’d been wrong.

So the young hero, a veteran of more adventures than any of the others individually, found himself incapable of handling the situation. And he hated that.

Legend wandered the castle, ignoring the cold and uninviting stone all around him. His feet guided him back to the room they’d set aside for Hyrule and Sky. The candle in his hand flickered slightly at the draft in the cavernous antechamber, chilled now that the fire in the large hearth had mostly died down.

When he slowly opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see someone holding vigil. Time glanced up to meet his gaze.

“Just wanted to check on them,” he said dully, not bothering to hide his reasoning. This felt so different from when Twilight had been injured – Hyrule had been in there constantly trying to heal him. They’d avoided the area to let him concentrate. It had been awful, but at least there’d been a thread of hope to work with. It wasn’t as if there weren’t healers here, but the words they’d been given were little comfort.

They’d needed rest. There was nothing else they could do.

No potion could heal someone who couldn’t drink it. No spell could be cast when the one who knew the spells was the one who was unconscious. And so they’d all just done the last thing they could do, the only thing they could do.

They kept them company.

They kept them company, and Legend simmered with grief, guilt, and unresolved emotions from so many years ago that he didn’t even know how to put words to them.

Time pat the empty chair beside him welcomingly. Legend was thankful for the invitation, thankful that there were no questions being asked. He shuffled over to the chair, watching Sky sleep before his eyes drifted to Hyrule next.

“Our traveler woke up earlier,” Time said quietly.

Legend turned to him, eyes wide. “He did?”

“Yes. I think he’ll be alright with some more rest.”

Thank the goddesses, he thought. He didn’t remember the Triforce being so draining, but Hyrule had used it to augment his magic and grant a wish, so perhaps it worked differently than it had for Legend all those years ago.

Time’s words hung in the air, and then there was silence. Legend’s candle held steady against the darkness, illuminating his face, but he had no words to offer. For a moment, as he watched Sky, it felt like he was holding vigil over a body, a mourner lost in time, adrift in a different Hyrule altogether, grieving the loss of someone who was equally displaced and wholly forgotten to this era.

His breath hitched in his throat. He swallowed hard.

The silence seemed suffocating, but he had nothing to say. Time shifted uncomfortably beside him, clearly trying to find the right words. Legend didn’t care.

Sky. Sky had… just like…

There was usually something to distract him at this point, some task he had to accomplish that made him move forward despite the emotions dragging him down. But this felt like the end of a journey, after his first one or after Koholint, where there was nothing left but the emptiness in his chest, the fresh wounds on his heart. He had no road to travel on, no home to go back to, no Zelda to talk to.

He just stared at Sky.

“I have confidence that the Triforce healed the worst of it,” Time said. “Though I do not know if he will fully recover—”

“He died,” Legend interrupted.

“Veteran… he’s right here. He’s alive.”

“No,” Legend said firmly, feeling his throat tighten. He swallowed hard to fight it. “No. You don’t get it. None of you gets it. He didn’t just get hurt, he didn’t just fall. He died.”

They didn’t understand. They didn’t realize why they felt the way they did. Even he couldn’t truly comprehend it, but he knew why. He knew because it had happened before.

“The Triforce brought him back,” Legend explained. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he died. He died and none of you get that, he died, he died—”

Legend didn’t know when he’d lost the battle with his voice, when the tears had started to leak out, when the words had devolved into pathetic sobs, an admittance to a grief that he’d carried with him for years, a fresh wound and terror and horror that had ingrained itself into his soul.

Sky was one of his dearest friends. And he’d died.

He couldn’t even be angry at the Shadow, couldn’t even be curious as to what its words had meant, couldn’t even be worried about why Sky had left in the first place. All he felt was utter and absolute grief and loss.

Because Sky had died. They’d had to resurrect him. The others were caught in a confused haze of worry and fear, as if they were just watching an injured brother instead of acknowledging what had actually happened, instead of realizing that they should be mourning too.

Legend’s cries grew louder, inadvertently waking Hyrule. He didn’t notice. He couldn’t see it through his tears, through the darkness that engulfed him when Time pulled him into a hug.

XXX

Sky didn’t wake the next morning when Hyrule did. The others celebrated seeing one of their brothers slowly recovering, but the mood was certainly dampened by a lack of progress from their most injured. Wild found purpose in nourishing Hyrule back to health while Warriors started to fall into a field medic mode of sorts. Sky’s comatose state still necessitated care, though it brought a morbid curiosity in Wild – after all, he’d been in a similar state for a century.

Clearly the Shrine of Resurrection worked its magic to help sustain him. Sky had no such luck. His body still functioned as if he were awake, requiring sustenance, removing waste. He needed to be fed and cleaned, to be moved so he wouldn’t get bed sores, to be prodded to see if there was a reaction. It was a morbid affair, and it made Wild uneasy. He’d only been asleep for two days and it already felt like a century in itself.

Wild found it too disturbing to watch. Instead, he helped the others. He felt like he had to pull his weight somehow, had to blink the images of Sky’s broken body in Time’s arms. Hyrule slowly improving was something they could all latch on to. Warriors never seemed to leave Sky’s room, and Twilight spent a fair amount of time in there as well alongside Time. Occasionally Legend and Four assisted, but Wind was kept away, as well as Hyrule. Wild just couldn’t stomach the sight of the care his beloved friend needed. Whenever any of the boys lamented the situation, however, Legend would firmly and adamantly say that Sky was going to be fine.

It was strange, how confident he was. But with all his experiences, Wild had to wonder if he knew something of the matter. He latched on to the hope nonetheless. It seemed silly not to hope in a recovery, given his own history, but, well… that had taken a while. Sky didn’t have a century.

As the sun set on the second day, however, worry began to hover over them like a cloud heavy laden with an oncoming rain. After all, there was no way they could nourish Sky if he didn’t wake up.

“He’ll wake up,” Legend insisted when Four pointed this out.

“Assuming he does, that still doesn’t address the biggest issue,” Four sighed. “What if… what if when he wakes up, he tries to leave again?”

“He wouldn’t!” Wind argued.

“How do you know?” Four fired back. “He’d been running from us the entire time!”

Wild watched the exchange warily. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what had caused all of this in the first place, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that it could happen again. He felt Hyrule shift uncomfortably beside him, and he turned his attention to his exhausted brother.

“You don’t think he wanted to leave us, do you?” Hyrule asked him quietly.

Words latched on to the champion’s brain, having first hooked in his mind when he’d heard them two days ago.

You don’t realize how terribly you failed.

This entire journey, Wild had been the failure of the group. Hearing those words had made him think the Shadow had been addressing him when he’d known, he’d known that it had been addressing Sky. But what failure was Sky responsible for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, the Shadow was simply talking about Sky’s pursuit of it. But… Sky’s frantic attempts to argue, to silence it…

“No,” Wild answered distantly. “I don’t think he wanted to leave us.”

XXX

“It’s been two hours; we should move him.”

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s all right. You carried him last time. I’ll do it.”

What? What was… what?

Link felt impossibly heavy. His half-addled brain wondered if he’d become a sword spirit like Fi, made entirely of metal.

He was lying on something soft, he knew that much. He felt like he was sinking into it so much that he would never be able to get out.

Except he was getting out of it. Or, well, floating out of it. Flying? Was he flying?

Warmth wrapped around his back and shoulders, around the back of his knees. Two grounding forces, holding him steady in a vast expanse of nothing. He felt himself dangling and shifting in rhythmic motions.

Distant voices grew closer as the sound of creaking wood emitted beneath him in shuffles.

“Don’t spill it!”

“Oh, quit your fussing, Vet! Here, Traveler, just drink slowly. We kept it warm for you.”

“Are you guys done arguing? I have a story to finish!”

Grumbles. Sighing.

“Go on, Sailor.” That voice rumbled, buzzing in Sky’s ear with the warmth of a hearth and accompanied by a gentle heartbeat.

“So there I was, thirty bokoblins between me and my goal—”

“Oh boy, they multiplied again,” a voice remarked dryly.

“What are you talking about?”

Sailor. Sailor? What?

Link tried to focus, but he was being lulled back to sleep by gentle sways as if he were laying on a hammock on Skyloft.

“It seems each time you tell it more bokoblins appear.” There was that rumbling tone again, waking Link slightly, relaxing him and drawing him into a trance. It was so familiar…

There was a decidedly annoyed huff in reply. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about! Anyway, so there were fifty bokoblins between me and—”

Link finally pried an eye open. Then he blearily tried to do it with his other eye. Everything was so blurry.

The hammock he was on continued to sway gently. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“That’s impossible and you know it, Sailor!”

“Nuh uh, that’s what happened—”

“Sky?”

The swaying stopped, jostling Link out of his relaxed state a little more. He tried to look up, but he couldn’t muster the strength. However, his perception was finally piecing together an image in his brain, and he belatedly realized he was not, in fact, lying on a hammock.

Someone was carrying him.

Someone was carrying him, and the sailor was here. But not just the sailor. He recognized all their voices.

“Sky, can you hear me?”

The rumbling from before returned. The gentle, steady heartbeat had increased a little. Who was carrying him? Link tried again with all his might to move his head, to tip it back just enough to see above, to identify who was holding him. It definitely wasn’t the captain; the voice was deeper than his. That just left Time and Twilight.

It had to be Twilight, then. The man was freakishly strong, and Time would never—

“Here—move this—put him here, old man.”

Huh?

Link felt his world move as the person carrying him—Time—took a few steps forward. There was scrambling and shuffling of items, hushed whispers and excited laughs. Link felt something somewhat hard and warm rise up to meet his back as he was laid on top of something, and his head settled on someone’s lap.

A hand gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes before settling on his chest, giving it a soft pat. With his head facing towards the ceiling, he saw eight faces slowly come into focus, all encircling him like flower petals around its center.

He drank in the sight, having missed his friends so much. Twilight was the one his head was resting on, the one who had a hand on his chest and a reassuring, gentle smile directly over him. Time stood behind Twilight, a hand on the rancher’s shoulder, also watching him, though his expression was less warm and more concerned. To Link’s left were Legend, who quickly placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, Wind, who was smiling so brightly he outshone the sunlight, and Warriors, who had both hands on Wind’s shoulders as he leaned over to see Link more clearly. Hyrule sat a distance away towards Link’s feet, with Wild directly beside him and holding him steadily in a side hug, his face beaming. To his right, Four’s smile was genuine and trembling, his eyes glistening with tears. Link managed to get the muscles in his face to cooperate, and he gave a weak smile.

The group let out a collective sigh of relief, and then laughter echoed in the air. Link was bombarded by voices competing for his attention.

“We were so worried—”

“Our Traveler nearly killed himself to get you better, we thought we were going to lose both of you!”

“We missed you so much, Sky—”

“We really thought you were a goner! Like seriously, Vet was crying—”

“I was not crying!!”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Everyone hushed at the question issued by Twilight. Link watched them all, his smile fading alongside his energy. He took a deep breath, trying to piece everything together, his mind still too slow to process it all, and Twilight patted his chest again.

“It’s okay if you’re too tired to talk,” Twilight said softly. “We got you out of bed so you wouldn’t get bed sores, but now that you’re waking up, maybe it’ll be okay?”

Here Twilight directed his attention to Warriors, seeming to ask him if it would, in fact, be all right. The captain ruffled Wind’s hair, making the sailor giggle and step aside, and he drew closer to Link and Twilight. “Mostly. If he’s too weak to move, we’ll still need to do it for him.”

Link could hardly put anything together. But one sentence suddenly burned in his mind, registering and making him try to bolt into a seated position. His body refused to obey, and he barely had curled into his abdomen before his head flopped back on Twilight’s lap with a grunt.

“Easy, Sky,” Twilight soothed gently, pulling Link onto his lap completely with strong grips under his arms. Link settled his head against the elder’s shoulder, gasping for air at the exertion. “It’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”

“T-Traveler…” Link managed to scrape out, his heart racing.

Hyrule shuffled closer, sitting on whatever object Link had just been lying on earlier. He reached a shaking hand out to the Skyloftian, squeezing his upper arm. “I’m here, Sky. You’re okay.”

His grip felt so incredibly weak, even to Link’s addled mind. He felt his stomach drop.

He’d made it worse. Somehow, he’d made it worse. Hyrule had almost died because of him.

“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, his eyes stinging with tears, his mind berating himself over and over and over.

“Sorry?” Hyrule repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Twilight reassured him, his gentle voice relaxing Link’s body, even if his mind continued to whirl.

“Sky, we’re just happy you’re alive,” Four said quickly. “Please don’t—don’t try to do anything. Just stay here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“N-no,” Link protested weakly. “I—I need—I—it’s my—I can’t—”

His entire world shifted as Twilight lifted him into his arms and stood. “Shh, it’s okay, Sky. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Despite his complete exhaustion, Link almost wanted to snap. He wasn’t a child, damn it. He had to tell them, he had to make them realize it was best to leave him here, he could recover on his own and then he could hunt—

Wait.

“Shadow?” he asked quietly.

“He escaped, as he always does,” Time said from somewhere to Twilight’s right. “He’s a coward.”

“Yeah, but the Old Man left him with a pretty good parting gift!” Wind piped in. “Arrow to the chest! And Champion got one in his eye too!”

Link wilted in Twilight’s arms. The Shadow was still alive, and he hadn’t even been able to land any meaningful hits on him. The others had to come rescue him. The others, who bore the brunt of his own stupidity and weakness, and who continued to do so.

He was too tired for this. Too weak to hold back his brittle mind and body’s reaction. Too spent to care that he was suddenly weeping.

It just wasn’t fair. Why did they have to suffer for him? Why couldn’t he get this right?! How did he just keep compounding upon his failure?!

“Sky, what’s wrong? It’s okay, we’re all okay, the Shadow didn’t get anyone except for you.” Wild hastily said as Twilight hesitated in lowering him, instead opting to sway back and forth calmingly.

He felt someone card their hand through his hair and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay, Sky. Everyone’s safe, and so are you.”

Warriors’ words were both a blessing and a curse. Link was eternally grateful everyone was fine, but this just wasn’t right.

“I—I s-should’ve—should’ve—”

“Link.”

He snapped out his stuttering, surprised at hearing his own name for the first time in ages. He had long since stopped viewing himself as part of the group, but he’d been remiss to throw his name out for the world to hear when he’d realized he was in Twilight’s Hyrule.

“No one is expecting you to eliminate the Shadow by yourself,” Time said firmly. “We wouldn’t all be here if that was the case. Whatever has convinced you to think you should handle this alone, it’s wrong.”

The room suddenly exploded into sound, cutting off whatever argument Link might have had.

“Wait, you wanted to take on the Shadow alone?!”

“Sky, are you insane, I thought you were one of the smarter ones in our group, what the actual hell—”

“The goddesses wouldn’t bring us all together if we could take the Shadow by ourselves!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed, Sky, what were you thinking?”

“Enough,” Time interrupted the group. “Let him rest.”

Link felt himself being lowered onto the bed, and the blankets were tucked all the way to his chin. He saw the group surrounding the bed worriedly, some looking more annoyed than others, some looking scared, and some hurt and bewildered.

Link sniffled helplessly.

Wind immediately jumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes and snuggling in beside him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Everyone agreed with words that Link didn’t bother to discern, and he felt Wind tuck himself neatly in between his right side and arm, resting his head on his shoulder. Link suddenly felt sore, but he didn’t protest.

“Aryll loves cuddling when she’s scared or hurting or doesn’t feel good,” Wind whispered with a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to be alone.”

Link couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He bit back another apology in lieu of letting the sailor have a chance to help, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on Wind’s forehead and closing his eyes.

The world grew warm and heavy. Exhaustion pulled at him, allowing him to settle back into sleep, but just before its gentle embrace could take him, his mind jolted back to—

Bleeding. He was bleeding so much. A bone deep exhaustion dragged his mind away, but he clung desperately. This was a different kind of tired, a far too permanent sleep beckoning him.

“S-Shadow…”

He had to know. He had to be sure.

“He’s gone,” Time said. “He’s gone.”

He… he did it?

He did it. They were safe. They were safe.

He felt tears sting in his eyes, his heart fluttering. His mission was… over.

He’d finally eliminated Demise.

He laughed, he laughed in relief. His brothers would no longer be haunted by that demon. He couldn’t eliminate the wounds of the past, but he could prevent any in the future.

“What were you thinking?” he heard Time whisper.

It didn’t matter now, whether they knew or not. But he still… he still felt obligated to say it. “M-making… amends…”

He could never truly make up for everything. But at least now he could…

He could rest. Goddess, he could rest.

I’m sorry Zelda, he thought. He apologized to her over and over, to Groose and to all his friends on Skyloft.

He knew. In his heart, he knew.

This was his last mission.

“I’m… sorry,” he said aloud before directing the apology at those around him. Because he knew he was leaving them too, and he knew he would never get a chance to truly apologize for all the harm he’d caused. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry…

The darkness pulled, and he drowned in it.

Link’s eyes snapped open. He’d—goddess, he’d—how—

Hyrule. He—he must have—

“Why?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whine.

“Hm…?” Wind perked up, already groggy, but his eyes were sharp as he looked at Link. “What’s wrong?”

Link couldn’t let this out on their youngest. But he couldn’t stop his raw emotions either, and before he knew it he was crying again. “Why?”

Wind watched him, eyes suddenly far older than they had any right to be. The boy held a gentleness and understanding to him, a sympathy and sorrow that intermingled, and he leaned down to hold him tightly.

“Because we love you, Sky.”

Sky fell apart completely, sobbing in his brother’s shirt.

[wentian]

are you kidding me? jing yuan was so upset that he removed all the weapons — yingxing's weapons — from his office after that failure of a man blade tried to kill himself again right in front of him 😭

[ryker-writes]

The Journal

Jaxon Crowley's masterlist

"You are isolated like I am, but you intentionally push others away. And then you wander around in despair all during the night. Do you never notice this cycle?"

Jaxon hated Malleus and how right he was. He knew it was true. All he ever does is shove other people away from him. No one has ever given him a reason not to...but it's been a long time since he's even given anyone a chance.

The delinquent son of the headmage; that's what he's always been. Some people believed getting close to him would give them bonus points in Crowley's book. They thought they'd be able to get away with more if they were with him. Others believed that if they were his friend, no one would mess with them. They would use that friend status to do anything they wanted and thought Jaxon would protect them when trouble came.

All those years, all those people, and not a single one actually cared about him. Eventually, he gave up on the hope that anyone would ever care about him. No one would ever actually care about him, that's what Jaxon fully believed.

Even his own father didn't seem to care much about him. Then again, did he ever? Crowley had given up on him long ago. Time and time again, Jaxon had managed to prove that he was nothing but trouble. He had managed to prove that he wasn't worth the effort, and a lost cause.

But...then why was he saved?

When he overblotted Leona, Kalim, and even that Heastslabyul student were there to save him. Leona cared, but he's never even opened up to Leona about anything. And what reason did the other two even have to care about him? He just couldn't figure it out.

This was way too much for his tired brain to try and figure out. While the collar around his neck was gone, Leona was dead set on making sure Jaxon didn't use his magic on himself to keep him awake. Now he wandered the campus constantly tired and on the verge of falling asleep. He was out for his walk before trying to sleep when he ran into Malleus.

Savanaclaw was much quieter at night. Even on the way to his room, everything was calm and still. It was nice, but he didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, the universe loves to throw things at him right when he doesn't want them. This time, it came in the form of a book sitting on the ground by his door. Ordinarily, he would've ignored it. But scrawled in messy handwriting across a paper on the top of it was his name.

Against his better judgement, he picked it up and took a look on the inside of the cover. Upon seeing who it belonged too, he rushed inside his room to read it. It was a name he hasn't seen or heard of in a long time.

'This journal belongs to: Sydney Crowley'

It's his mother's name. This was her journal. Jaxon could only guess that his father dropped this off, but he didn't really care about why right now. All he had to remember his mother by was his memories of her, but this was something physical. This belonged to her.

As soon as he got into his room, he took a seat on his bed and opened it up to start reading.

'It's been a while since I've written in a journal. My old one was even too full to continue writing in, so here I am with a completely new one. I suppose this is symbolism in a way. After all, this is a new chapter of my life so it's only fitting it fills a new book.

Our darling son was born a few weeks ago! It's quite exciting and everything went well in the hospital. Jaxon was born on January 26th at approximately 10:57 at night. Dire was freaking out the entire time. But he was super excited to meet Jaxon.

He wanted to hold Jaxon as soon as he came out, but the nurses let me see him first of course. I wish I could've got a photo of Dire's face when he held Jaxon for the first time. He looked so happy and he even started crying.

Jaxon already looks so much like his father. He's got those golden eyes and pale skin, and he even has the same face shape. The only things he seemed to get from me is the blue hair and round ears. Even as a baby he's already acting like his father; all dramatic and very clingy.

The other day he started crying just because Dire set him down. It was only for a second but Jaxon was so upset and Dire immediately picked him up again. Jaxon just loves his father so much already, it's rare to see them separated anymore. Jaxon doesn't even cry when I set him down.

I can't be upset though. Dire loves Jaxon so much and he's wanted a child of his own for so long that it's only natural they're so attached to each other. It's adorable to see them together all the time.'

Jaxon huffed after reading that passage. The idea that him and his father were close at one point was so foreign and strange to him. And to think that his father wanted a kid...boy he must've been pretty disappointed at what Jaxon turned out to be. Jaxon flipped the page and continued reading without another thought.

'I know it's been a while since I last wrote, but such is the life of a new mother. Things have become more busy since Jaxon was born. Between taking care of him and helping Dire with some things at NRC, I've been quite busy. I'll also admit that I forgot about writing here for a while.

Jaxon turned 2 years old today. He's learned some of his basic needs and even said his first word not too long ago. While he doesn't speak or use his voice often, he's quite adorable when he does.

I have a video on my phone of Dire putting Jaxon down only for Jaxon to start making grabby hands at him and want up. It was so adorable and then Jaxon was babbling before he said dada. Dire heard it of course and immediately picked him up again and started spinning the boy around. I watch that video again from time to time to see the moment and hear their laughter when I'm down.

He's also able to walk around now, and he loves to hold people's hands while walking. Sometimes we all take walks around NRC and show Jaxon around. The ghosts all love him too. Dire keeps showing Jaxon off every chance he gets saying "look how cute my son is!" and everyone goes along with it. Jaxon always has the biggest smile on his face too.

But I'll admit, I do miss all the time me and Dire had for ourselves. He spends a lot of time with Jaxon and I can understand that. But it's always either Jaxon or NRC that's occupying his time. I wish we could still go on dates or even just spending time alone at home. Is that selfish of me?'

Jaxon couldn't believe it. His father spending a lot of time with him? It didn't sound real. And to ignore his mother in the process, how awful of him. As if his father couldn't get worse in his mind. Jaxon huffed before skipping ahead a few pages.

'I didn't think I would enjoy being home on my own so much. Jaxon started kindergarten so he's been occupied there and Dire has been at NRC. Thanks to this, I've been getting more time to myself.

I've been loving my time alone a lot more than I originally thought I would. Jaxon isn't here to ask me a million things and I don't have to deal with Dire's antics. I feel bad for enjoying this alone time as much as I do. They're my family and I'm supposed to love spending time with them. But now I dread them coming home. What is wrong with me?

Even when they get home I find myself interacting with them differently. Dire has been trying to get Jaxon to complete homework as best he can. While Jaxon seems to have a harder time learning and understanding it, Dire keeps pushing that he understand it.

He's told me before that he dreams of Jaxon having a bright future. He wants him to be an ace student and do great academically, which I can understand, but he seems to get frustrated with how long it can take Jaxon to understand things. Jaxon even cried once, and Dire stopped his pushing immediately. He comforted Jaxon, and I think Jaxon learned that it was a way to stop pushing. Now whenever Jaxon gets frustrated with his schoolwork, he starts crying. I think Dire is getting tired of comforting him though, so I've stepped in from time to time so he would stop crying.

It only happens a few days a week, so I guess it's not too bad. Still, it's my job to step in when Jaxon gets too much for Dire to handle. Though I can't help but sigh in relief when Jaxon finally understands something. At least then I can enjoy the moment of peach and excitement that they both show.'

His mom...liked it better when he was gone? This passage didn't sound like his mom at all. He always knew her as a gentle and loving person who was always there for him. He spent more time with her than he did with his dad, but this is saying that she got tired of him and liked when he was away. The part about his father pushing him and getting frustrated was familiar to Jaxon, as well as his mother being the one to step in. Maybe he was just frustrating more as a little kid and she wanted to be around him more as he grew. With that though, he flipped ahead a few more pages.

'Jaxon has been spending more time with me lately. Since Dire keeps getting to tired to comfort him after getting frustrated with school, I think Jaxon isn't wanting to be around him as much. The schoolwork is most of the time he spends with Dire, so he must think his father is always frustrated with him.

He's still struggling quite a bit in school. Thankfully elementary isn't nearly as serious as high school or college, so grades don't quite matter for him yet. I do worry for how he'll do in the future especially since Dire has been so serious about him passing every class with amazing grades.

The other day the two even got into an argument. It was the first time I've ever heard Jaxon even yell at his father. Dire was shocked too, but insisted he was in the right and continued arguing. It ended with Jaxon running away in tears and I couldn't help but feel guilty for not stepping in. But what am I to do? Dire just wants him to be successful, but Jaxon is struggling.

At this rate, I'm not sure if Jaxon will ever be ready to take over at NRC. I know Jaxon really likes the school and he basically grew up there, but with the way things are going with Dire, I'm a bit worried. I've tried telling Dire about it, but he's very stubborn in his ways. Maybe things will get better with time. Maybe Jaxon will come to understand why Dire pushes him so hard.'

He doesn't even remember his first fight with his father, but here it was described. All the way back in elementary...it seems like such a long time ago. He's just been arguing with Crowley so long that it's natural to him now. He always knew his mom didn't know how to help though. Whenever they argued, she would stand on the side silently. If only Jaxon could go back and tell her that time wouldn't make things better at all. Jaxon sighed before flipping ahead again.

'I don't know what to do anymore. All they do is avoid each other and fight all the time. Dire wants Jaxon to be a supper smart straight A student who will eventually take over at NRC and be like him. Jaxon just wants to do his own thing and not have someone constantly pushing him to do better. It's gotten to the point where it just seems like Dire is disappointed in him all the time. I know he's not, he tells me so, but it's getting harder to tell if that's the truth.

I've tried talking to both of them, but Crowley won't give up on his dream for Jaxon, and Jaxon firmly believes his dad hates him and considers him a failure. I'm caught in the middle of two people who can't even get along for a little bit. All they do is push each others buttons. It's like even mentioning one to the other will cause immediate anger and defensiveness. This isn't how a family is supposed to be.

Others have told me that Jaxon is just in his rebellious phase since he's almost a teenager. But this has been going on since he was young, and if this is a rebellious phase, it started early and has been going on far longer than I would think.

I'm so lost and don't know what to do. How do I fix this? I know Dire loves his son and wants what's best for him but Jaxon can't see that. They're both going about it so wrong and I can't even get them in the same room together for five seconds without something happening. Can this family even be helped anymore?

I want to help them. I want them to get along, but I don't know how. Jaxon isn't even trying in school anymore. We send him there only for him to lash out at others and he even got into a fight with one student. I don't want him to feel like I'm disappointed in him, but I really wish he wouldn't fight. I'm just about the only one he gets along with anymore, so I can't be upset with him too.

I just feel so torn all the time. It's like I can't relax and there's constant strain. I hate feeling like this, but there isn't much I can do. I look at Dire now and it's hard to see the same man who would always be there whenever baby Jaxon needed anything. What happened to us?'

Before the pages had a small hint of happiness from his mom, but not this one. The writing feels so desperate and sad. His loving and happy mother, it was hard to imagine her so sad. Even the thought of her crying seemed to hurt Jaxon. At this point he didn't even know if he should blame his father or himself.

He flipped ahead again a few pages, only to find them blank. There was over half a notebook left but the pages were blank? That didn't make sense. Maybe she left before she could write those pages. Carefully, Jaxon flipped backwards to the last page with writing on it.

'This is going to be my last entry into this journal. I just can't take it here anymore. I can't live in this house like this anymore. This constant fighting, constant strain, it's too much.

I've already talked to Dire about it. He was upset of course, but could understand that we were no longer in love like we used to be. We weren't the same. I offered to take Jaxon with me, but he refused. I was quite surprised, but it was...kind of nice hearing that. Dire was more stubborn than ever saying that "You will not be taking my son from me. Do what you want wherever you go, but I'm not going to leave him."

It was like proof to me that Dire still cared about Jaxon. He wanted Jaxon to stay there with him. And to be honest, I'm happy about that. I think I may have become a mother sooner than I was ready. Having a child was something Dire wanted so badly, and I knew I could fulfill that. Yet here I am, wanting to get away from my own family.

I asked Dire to give this notebook to Jaxon someday so he can understand why I left. So assuming he did, I want to say hello to you my dear son.

I'm so sorry about everything. You must be so confused. I can't bring myself to face you before I leave. I'm a bit cowardly that way I know, but I don't even know how I would begin to explain everything to you.

The truth is that I'm selfish. If you've read any other parts of this journal, you could probably tell that I wasn't very happy with everything. I tried to hold on as long as I could, but it all got too much.

Than I went to the doctor, and found out that I'm sick. I don't have much time left either. As much as it pains me, I believe I should spend the time I have left in a way that makes me happy. I don't want to spend my last years alive in sadness and struggling to put a family back together.

I know I failed you as a mother. I can't apologize enough for that. I should've done something to help you and Dire. I should've stepped in, and should've tried to help sooner. I'm sorry for failing you.

But you should know that none of this is your fault. I may be leaving so I can be somewhere happy, but it's not because of you at all. Ever since the day you came into this world, I've loved you. I know you're capable of amazing things and I want you to be able to become whatever kind of person you want to be. It doesn't matter if it's the new headmage of NRC or even a househusband. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

I hope you can forgive me for leaving you like this. I know it's cowardly and selfish, and I'm sorry. I also hope that you and your dad will be able to get along soon. It's a bit naïve, but maybe me leaving can bring you two closer. He does care about you, even if it may not seem like it, and so do I.

There are so many things I wish I could've changed, but life had other plans. I hope that someday you can look at this journal and understand or at least look back on happier times in the earlier pages. I love you Jaxon.

-Sydney Crowley'

And just like that, everything Jaxon had believed and known had been flipped upside down. He'd be lying if he said it was easy to process.

His mother wrote this before leaving. That was over four years ago. By now there's a good chance whatever sickness she had took it's toll. He wanted to find her. He wanted to search for her and stay with her after Night Raven College...but she's gone. It's likely already too late. She's gone for good.

Jaxon couldn't control it. Quick tears had run down his face before falling down into his lap. Usually he would do anything he could to avoid crying, but right now, he didn't give a damn. And the tears rolled quickly, so there was no stopping them if he tried. He couldn't even control how his breathing started to get shaky and he wanted to just curl into himself. The scary and tough delinquent and son of the headmage was here, sobbing alone in his room.

He basically just found out that the only person he felt understood him and could accept him, was gone with no hope of ever coming back. He would never see her again, and all she knew before she died was the son who was rebellious and angry all the time. She knew the constant fighting between him and his father, and she wasn't happy with it. It wasn't just Crowley's fault, it was his too. Both of them were to blame for her leaving and being so unhappy. Sure, she said not to blame himself, but how could he not?

Why couldn't he just do what his dad wanted? Why couldn't he just listen? Why couldn't he get along with his dad? Why couldn't he be smart and understand things like everyone else? Why did he have to be so...so...gah! He can't even think of the word. He may as well be the stupidest guy in the school. He's just the violent delinquent that can't do anything right.

"No wonder your mom left you. No one would want a delinquent like you."

He hated that kid. He hates that condescending tone he spoke with. He hates how that kid was sort of right.

Suddenly his room felt suffocating to be in. He had to get out. He had to walk around. It felt like he was trapped in here with his thoughts and he hated it.

Jaxon frantically wiped his tears away before shoving the journal under his bed and walking out the door. He definitely won't be sleeping tonight.

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 25: you're not delivering a perfect body to the grave

Buried Alive + Storm (metaphorically)

3387 Words; River Runs Deep

TW for discussions of memory alteration, death mention, burying someone alive

AO3 ver

“What did you say in that letter?” Raz asks.

“Nothing important, really.” The reflection of Mail Ford responds.

“Just that I loved her.” Agent Cruller continues. “She just wanted to help, but they pushed her too far.”

“How should we have known?” Mail Ford asks. “It’s not like she was marked ‘Fragile!’” The typewriter passes from his hands to Agent Cruller’s.

“But I thought I knew her, and everything she held inside herself.” Agent Cruller laments. “Ahh, I had so much to learn.”

“Ah,” Mail Ford says, “I guess some packages are better left… unopened.”

And with that remark, Raz is left standing once again in the messy treehouse. He looks at the final piece of the mirror in his hands.

“Ford and Nona…” Raz has learned so much, just from poking around in Ford’s brain. His Nona’s memories of her past have been shrouded in mystery. The Aquatos feared the Psychonauts as much as they feared the Deluginists because of this fact—surely, if the Psychonauts ever learned that Nona used to be Maligula, they would prosecute her.

But Raz has learned so much. His Nona used to be a part of the Psychic Seven! She’s one of them! She and Ford were lovers! And oh, some part of Raz’ mind is almost giddy at the realization, that Ford Cruller could have become his great-uncle—but he pushes that part of himself to the side. Now isn’t the time to be fanboying. Raz has a mission to complete!

Still, the fact that Nona and the Psychonauts are more closely linked than Raz ever thought…

Maybe hiding from them is pointless. Maybe they won’t prosecute her. Maybe they can help.

Raz sighs, and puts the last piece of the mirror back in place. He has a mission to focus on. He pulls out the typewriter, and sets it on the shelf.

The silence stretches on, for a moment.

“Razputin.” Ford’s voice cuts across the space.

Raz turns to the mirror clasped in the body’s hand. “Agent Cruller!” He grins. “How do you feel?”

The reflection frowns. “I’ve done a terrible thing.” He shakes his head. “And so have you.”

“What?” Raz’ voice comes out smaller than he wants it to. “I just wanted to help!” And to see if Ford knows anything about whoever took his Father’s and Nona’s memories—though Raz doesn’t voice that bit aloud. “I don’t know who shattered your mind,” Raz steps forwards, “But now we can find out!”

“I already know who did this to me.” Ford admits. “That’s the first thing I’ve learned in here.” The mindscape begins to tilt, slightly, the sky above Raz starting to twist. “The rest you’re gonna have to see for yourself…”

And suddenly Raz is standing in a dark forest, Ford standing next to him. In Ford’s hands is a shovel, and on his face is a grim expression. He’s no longer dressed in a Psychonauts uniform, instead wearing a shirt and jacket.

“Ford,” Raz turns to him, “What is it?” Who shattered your mind? What are you trying to show me?

Ford points with his shovel. “See for yourself.” He utters, as Raz follows the end of the shovel to a stone archway.

Raz swallows. When he looks to his side again, Ford is gone.

Guess I gotta keep going. Raz walks through the archway, and finds himself in what looks like a cemetery. All of the tombstones are blank.

Slowly, carefully, Raz continues forwards, cool mist curling around his ankles. He picks up figments as he goes, looking this way and that for the answers Ford indicated would be here. The ground starts to curve sharply downwards before him.

Raz turns around at the sound of something scraping. His eyes widen—a massive comb is slowly advancing behind him, already past the cemetery’s entrance.

“Uh oh.” Raz hops on his levball and runs, rolling along the ground and collecting figments along the way. The sky darkens as he progresses, the comb advancing behind him at a steady pace, until the only light is that of Raz’ levball, and two lanterns hanging up ahead.

The lanterns are standing to either side of a deep hole. Raz hops down into it. The comb passes harmlessly overhead.

“Agent Cruller,” Raz calls up, “I’m getting less sure I want to see this!”

And Ford is there, at the edge of the hole, pushing his shovel into the dirt. “Oh no,” he mutters, lifting up a shovelful of dirt, “I don’t think you’ll want to see this at all.” He dumps the dirt into the hole—into the grave, Raz realizes, his eyes widening. Within moments, the grave is full, and Raz is struggling to escape the dirt surrounding him. Air! He needs air!

The dirt doesn’t give, pressing in all around Raz as he struggles. He needs to get out of here! But it’s heavy, and dark, and Raz can’t breathe—

Raz’ hand bursts through the dirt, and he scrabbles for purchase on the ground. His head emerges from the dirt with a gasp, his lungs sucking in all the air they can get. Even though he’s only a mental projection and would merely be dementestrated if he failed to make it out, Raz’ chest heaves and he struggles to regain his breath.

Well, now he’s even more sure that he doesn’t want to see this.

But he has to. So he picks himself up all the way, hauling his legs out of the dirt. He pops free, but instead of landing back on the ground he floats upwards.

No, Raz realizes, looking up above him—or rather, looking below—he’s not floating, he’s falling.

“What?” Raz reaches back towards the dirt, yelping as he falls—

Very slowly.

Okay. Okay. It’s okay. He’s fine. Raz looks back down, at the shapes floating in the gloom below him. He’s not going to go splat. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.

Sharklike-shapes swim circles in the gloom. Raz angles for a figment, grabbing it as he falls towards a candle-lit ledge. He lands, and runs over to the door, pushing it open.

A bowling alley stretches out into the darkness before him. A single light illuminates the beginning of the lane—and illuminates Bowling Ford, who’s lying supine on the wood, a bowling ball resting in his hands on his stomach. Raz walks up to him.

“Hey Ford,” Raz starts, “What’s the deal with the deep six treatment?” Couldn’t he just drop a memory vault or something? Points for the presentation, but Raz is tired. He has been running around all day trying to fix this, and he would appreciate a break.

“I did what I had to do.” Ford states miserably. “I loved her, after all.”

All of Raz’ annoyance comes to a halt. “Wait, what?” Okay, now he’s wondering if he actually managed to put Ford back together, because that makes no sense. It’s like he isn’t even responding to Raz at all—what does loving Raz’ Nona have to do with burying Raz alive?

Ford lifts his head up. “Someday, when you fall in love, you’ll understand.” He closes his eyes, puts his head back down, and, without any further comment, slides along the lane. A light that wasn’t there before sits at the end of it, backlighting a set of pins that Ford knocks over in his exit.

Oookay then. Raz tries to follow, but he can’t get any further than the edge of the light. Fine. He turns around, walks out the door, and makes his way to the edge of the ledge. There’s two more like it, further down, lit with the warm glow of so many candles. Raz jumps.

He floats down just as slowly as before, but it isn’t long before he comes to a landing on the next ledge, having grabbed two more figments on the way. The window above the door is yellow, this time, instead of the pink of the ledge above. Raz grabs a third figment, and enters the door.

Raz is in the hair salon, now, a single light illuminating a patch of green and yellow tile. Barber Ford sits towards the back, atop a massive jar of Hydrocide™. Raz walks into the center of the light.

“Ford, what’s going on here? What did you want me to see?” Raz is so, so tired of having to jump through hoops. It’s all he’s been doing, today, all he’s been doing since Truman asked him to put Ford back together. Raz would really like some answers now!

“I couldn’t let her go free, she was a danger to the world!” And once again, Ford’s talking like Raz isn’t really there at all. Raz huffs in annoyance. Ford continues, “Even though it was the world that made her dangerous.”

Okay, that’s not helpful. Raz already knows all of this—for all that Nona’s memories of her life before the Deluge are gone, she can still remember bits and pieces of her time as Maligula, for all that she refuses to share those bits. Besides, Raz saw all of this when he was running around in the hair-filled mindscape of Barber Ford!

Still, Raz persists. “I know this! But who took your memories?”

“Safe. She’s safe.” Ford says, like Raz isn’t there at all. “Well, she was.” He frowns. “We all were. Huh.” Ford shrugs, “Not anymore.” He plugs his nose, and falls backwards into the Hydrocide™. Raz reaches out, but Ford’s already gone.

Just like before, Raz can’t go much further beyond the edges of the light—not that there really is anywhere to go. So Raz turns around and leaves the room, standing on the edge of the ledge outside the door.

One more ledge to go. Raz already has a good idea of what’ll be on it.

He floats down through the twisted ground making up the chasm, collecting figments as he goes. The window above the final door is blue. Raz pushes the door open, and walks out onto a wooden floor. A typewriter dominates the space, and Mail Ford sits atop it.

Raz pushes up his goggles. “Look, Ford, whatever I’m supposed to know—just spit it out!” He’s so tired. Is it so much to ask that even just one thing comes easy today? Must everything be a struggle?

“I had to hide her from the world, because they’d never forgive her.” Ford rambles. “And I had to hide her from me, because I’d never forget her.”

Raz’ heart starts to sink. Ford isn’t saying… no. No, he must be confused, or talking about something else. “Where?” Raz asks, “Where did you hide her?” He has a sneaking suspicion as to who she is. He hopes it isn’t true.

Ford shuts his eyes. “She’s with family.” He falls backwards over the bar, sinking down into the slot for paper.

Annoyance and dread fill Raz in equal measure. He was hoping for answers about his Nona, about the Memory Man who took her and Dad’s memories, made them think they were mother and son instead of aunt and nephew, left them with nothing but broken pieces when the illusion finally shattered—

Now, Raz isn’t sure what he’ll find, and instead of being excited by the prospect, he only feels a growing dread. He grabs the Half-a-Mind dancing to the side of the door, and makes his way back out. One of the shark-shaped coffins floats by, a tag dancing on its back. As tired as he is, Raz slows it down with time bubble to grab the tag, then leaps off to float down further.

He tumbles slowly, starting to fall faster and faster—

Raz hits the ground with a thud. He picks himself up, and finds next to a tombstone marked “Maligula.” More importantly, though, he’s in a coffin, and despite his protests it slams shut on him, trapping him inside.

The world around him blurs. Raz finds himself still in the velvet-lined coffin, but now it’s big enough for him to stand in, like some weirdly-shaped hall.

What is it with Ford’s mind and Raz getting buried alive? Is it Bury Raz day? Can Raz catch a break?

Probably not. Raz continues on, the velvet hall expanding around him as he goes until it’s almost the same size as a regular hallway. Clusters of candles sit in the corners of the room he finds himself in, cobwebs hanging from the walls and ceiling. Before Raz is a bed, with two skeletons lying on it.

“Ah!” Raz jolts back. “Who’s that?”

Ford’s voice comes in from all directions, even as Ford himself is nowhere to be found. “That’s your grandparents, Lazlo and Marona. They drowned in the Valermo Dam disaster, remember?”

“I already know this…” Raz mutters. Though it is kind of weird for Ford to know it, he thinks. No wonder the Memory Man shattered Ford’s mind—they must have been protecting their own identity. Which means that Ford definitely knows who they were!

(There is another possibility, sitting at the edge of Raz’s brain. He ignores it.)

“You—what?” Ford sounds genuinely caught off-guard.

“Er—” Raz backtracks. “I mean, Grandpa Lazlo died, but my grandma made it out and came to live with my father.” He tries. It doesn’t sound very convincing.

“No, Raz. She didn’t.” Raz can’t tell if Ford believes him or not. Then again, Ford apparently already knows that Raz’ Nona isn’t really his grandmother.

Something clicks behind Raz. When he turns around, the wall is gone, revealing a long hall. Raz sighs, hops on his levball, and continues forward.

Ford’s voiceover continues. “Razputin, after the fight with Lucy, she was defeated, but alive. I snuck her away from the others and brought her back to the Gulch.”

But… wasn’t Ford’s mind shattered in the fight with Maligula? How could he have brought her back to America? Could he still teleport that far with a shattered mind?

(Unless Ford’s mind wasn’t shattered at all, Raz realizes. He shoves that thought down.)

“I put her in the Astralathe—one of Otto’s inventions.” Ford continues.

Raz comes to a screeching halt at the end of the hall. The room before him has wooden flooring mixed with the velvet, a stained glass window, and a strange machine that Raz has never seen before. His heart sinks. No, no, no.

“Created to make permanent alterations to the psyche.” Ford continues, ignorant to the rising panic filling Raz’ throat. No. No no no. Can Raz go back to being buried alive? Please?

Raz spots the purse behind the machine—the Astralathe?—and darts towards it, needing the distraction. He pulls out the purse tag and attaches it. Ford’s voiceover pauses, waiting until Raz is done to continue. After a long moment, Raz continues on past the machine, towards a blue door at the very end of the room.

“But I knew the world would never forgive her,” Ford says, as all of Raz’ hopes fall apart. “So I had to hide her somewhere safe.”

Tentatively, Raz opens the door. “Oh no.” Oh no, indeed—Raz is standing in the doorway of his family’s caravan, looking out over an empty and darkened version of their campgrounds.

“I hid her among her family, Razputin.” Ford says, “Among your family.”

Raz can’t deny it any longer. “You’re—” he gasps, his throat starting to tighten. “You’re the Memory Man!” He exclaims, “You’re the one who took Nona and Dad’s memories!” Raz’ chest tightens, the weight of the world crashing in all around him. No, no—this can’t be right. No.

All at once, the scenery playing out in Ford’s mind stops. “You… knew?” He appears next to Raz in the mindscape, surprise coloring his face.

Raz can’t be in here for a minute longer. He scrambles for his smelling salts and whips them out, popping them open in front of his face. He needs to get out of here. He needs to get out—

“Razputin—” Ford reaches for him—

+=+=+=+=+

Raz snaps back into his body on the mailroom floor. He looks at Ford, once, his chest starting to heave. No—he can’t do this. He never should have done this.

Ford comes back to himself, whirling around to face him. “Razputin—” He tries, but Raz is already running. He needs to get out of here! He needs space!

Raz runs, using his levball to go faster. He runs, all the way through the atrium into the lobby, outside the Motherlobe entirely, across the floating platforms—

(The water feels his agitation, and trembles in shared rage-hurt. It reaches out to Raz as he passes over it, whispering offers to play and wash his cares away.)

Raz reaches the tunnel to the Questionable Area, and keeps going. He bursts out the other end, his chest and legs burning, and he does not stop—

He can see the fairy lights of his family’s camp strung up, bright against the darkened sky. Raz dashes, intent on getting to his parents so they can all leave this place, or something—

Ford crashes into Raz from the side, stopping him from reaching the campgrounds. They tumble across the ground, Raz’ panic hitting a peak—

“Let me go!” he shouts, squirming in Ford’s hold.

“Listen, Raz!” Ford begins, “I know you’re mad—”

“Of course I’m mad!” Raz shrieks. “You’re the reason my Dad can’t remember his mother’s face! You’re the one who put my whole family into this mess, who forced us to hide Nona without any help!” Tears are bubbling out of Raz’ eyes like steam from a kettle. He finds he doesn’t care. “My family’s had to keep Nona’s past hidden all on our own just because you felt the need to shatter your own mind and run from your problems!” He can’t believe this. All his life, he’s looked up to Ford—wanted to be a hero, just like him.

But Ford isn’t a hero at all.

“You’re right to be mad, Razputin.” Ford sighs. “I was young, and I made a terrible mistake.”

“You could have stuck around!” Raz yells. “Did it never occur to you that they might remember?”

“I had hoped they wouldn’t.” Ford admits.

Raz yells. “Well they did! Except they still don’t remember before the Deluge!” He glares at Ford with every inch of anger in his body, “Nona remembers Maligula, but she doesn’t remember you!” And maybe Ford deserved that, to be forgotten by the woman he loved. But Nona didn’t deserve to have all her memories wrenched away like that. The Aquatos didn’t deserve the fear of not knowing, of always looking over their shoulders for fear of what lurked in their shadows.

“Razputin—” Ford raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“DON’T ‘RAZPUTIN’ ME!” Raz is tired. Raz is so, so tired.

“What’s all this?” Augustus’ voice breaks through the tension, and all of the anger leaves Raz’ body at once. He’s tired. He’s so, so tired.

Ford freezes like a deer in headlights. He opens his mouth—

Raz points at him. “He did it!” He shouts. “He’s the one who messed with your memories!”

Augustus’ eyes snap onto Ford. “What.” He sounds so much smaller than Raz’ father should ever sound.

Distantly, Raz notices his mother and siblings wandering over, Queepie held in his mother’s arms, Mirtala holding Frazie’s hand and rubbing at her eyes. He shoves down the part of him that doesn’t want his family to see him crying—Raz doesn’t have it in him to care.

He’s so tired.

“Why?” Augustus asks, clutching at his chest. “You—why would you—”

“Because I loved her.” Ford laments, “And I thought it was the only way to keep her safe.”

“So you took her memories?” Raz doesn’t know how he has the energy to continue yelling. Anger’s just like that, he guesses.

His mother passes Queepie over to Dion, wrapping an arm around Augustus’ shoulders. She glares at Ford. “You.”

Somehow, Ford manages to look even more rigid. “Me.” He admits.

“You have some nerve!” All of his mother’s ire turns to Ford, and Raz can’t find it in himself to defend the man. “What is wrong with you? Do you have any idea the damage you’ve done to this family?”

Ford opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

“Wait.” Frazie pipes up, bringing everything to a screeching halt. They all turn to look at her.

“Where’s Nona?”

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[ssk374]

It hurts even fucking more to think that mozzie had suggested neal to run while Peter was in prison, while neal refuses because he wants to get Peter out of prison...risks himself for it...and Peter comes out of prison and the first thing he tells neal is this!!! Poor neal...Neal was just trying to protect Peter for what is father did, just to get his heart crushed by peter (after James just did)...and his life just goes even more downhill considering hagen and rachel fuck up his life...I mean why wouldn't he want to run

Neal's life has always been in the downward trend since he was born...since day one of watching this show I am yet to see a season where he gets anything as close to happy ending... except when he runs...

So I’ve only seen up to 5x01, so my future thoughts might change, but I cannot stop thinking about how fucking destroyed Neal would be by the “You’re a criminal. I forget about that.” conversation after Peter was released from prison.

Like Neal spent the entire time of James being around trying to convince both himself and Peter that having James around was a good decision, would lead to a good outcome. He desperately was trying to convince himself that he was more than just the criminal he felt destined to be. Peter was always trying to convince him that he was more than a criminal, that he could change, and with the possibility that James was framed, Neal finally felt like that could believe Peter. That maybe he could be more than just an ill-fated conman.

And then James murders someone, and he frames Peter for it.

So not only is Neal’s hope of not being a criminal by blood absolutely shattered, but the one person who’s always believed in him is directly harmed.

And then Peter gets out of prison and comes to Neal basically saying “I take back all those times I said you were more than a criminal, that it wasn’t in your blood, that I thought you could change. I love you in spite of that believe, but fundamentally my believe in you has changed.” Peter shows up and blames Neal, indirectly, for his time in prison, for James murdering someone else, by saying he keeps letting himself care too much about Neal. Neal already is blaming himself, and Peter just confirms that Neal should blame himself.

How could Neal ever think he could be more than a criminal, that he could ever be a meaningful person to this found family, after that? How could he not be completely consumed with grief and guilt and self-hatred? How could he think Peter had any faith, let alone trust, in him to be able to be Better?

Peter burned the bridge Neal was standing on with that.

[lovifie]

Masterlist

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.

Simon and you have been dating for a while now, Simon usually lives at your house when he is not deployed.

He has talked to you about the rest of the boys, as well as talking about you to them. Well, letting them know he is dating somebody, no matter how much Johnny pesters him to learn more about you he didn't tell them anything.

And then one day, you wake up and still half asleep, you go to hug Simon; expecting the mountain of a person that is your boyfriend and the only thing you can feel is someone half your size. That wakes you up fast.

You look at whoever is sleeping next to you… and it is you. But you are you, so why are you sleeping in front of you when you are where you are? And where the fuck is Simon?

You turn around looking for him and you find him, in the reflection of the mirror, looking at you. You wink and the reflection winks back. Okay, cool, cool, cool, cool. So, if you are Simon… then Simon… is the you on the bed.

“Simon.” You whisper, slightly shaking his… your arm?

And the deep voice surprises you when it erupts from within you, but it surprises Simon more because he jumps awake and then jumps back when he sees you.

The Spiderman meme coming to your memory for a second.

“Why are you me?”

“Why am I you?”

This just has like… so many possibilities. I am definitely coming back to this once I finish writing the next lift me off my feet chapter.

Like, imagine waking up on Simon Riley’s body. Going to base and there is like this 5’2 woman walking looking serious as fuck and then the fucking lieutenant is walking behind grabbing her shirt and looking terrified.

The possibilities, YUMMY.

Like, reader having glasses, and she puts them on like always but for some reason everything is blurry and then she turns to Simon and he is looking back the same way, just looking at each other like:

Simon being terrified on reader on his body because he knows she's a menace and now she's 6ft, Simon trying to calm himself down and reader being like: "I wanna know how my pussy feels, Simon." And poor Simon being absolutely terrified of not being able to walk anymore.

Reader just constantly hitting her head walking through doors because she has never had that problem and now she's one more hit from permanent brain damage.

Reader looking at herself on Simon's body for a bit too long and getting a massive boner, going to Simon for help only to find him playing with your boobs.

Please, let me know what would be the first thing you would do if it happened to you because I know my stupid ass would just want to hit somebody on the face with my dick. Just because like, how do you respond to that?

Think of the possibilities and tell me about them 😈

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!

self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass

ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list

luffy:

thats my baby ^^

— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭

— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king

— go king give us everything!!

— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it

— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)

— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair

— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character

"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you

"nobody! I'm okay–"

— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).

"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭

"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper

"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)

— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading

— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)

— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)

— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭

"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)

zoro:

the shades tho 😎

— I'm convinced this mf can't read either

— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌

— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)

— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)

— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?

— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening

— he's actually invested at one point

"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"

"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"

"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"

"... i would actually enjoy that"

he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)

— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.

— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups

— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."

— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it

"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud

"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."

— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)

— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)

"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child

"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest

"well... that's the best i can offer"

he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.

— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.

sanji:

he's actually so pretty tho ^^

— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in

— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)

— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading

— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF

— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it

— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere

— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)

— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.

— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better

— he's so fine 😫😫

— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life

"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"

"mhm?"

"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"

now it's your turn to go red

— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head

— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)

— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."

"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"

"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"

now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background

— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep

— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.

— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"

— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3

a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list

[lady-ace]

Injustice Spirit

(Injustice Ghost, part two)

(I'm so happy for the support on the first part, i'm glad you all liked it! :) Anyways, heads up again, this will talk about what happened to Billy in injustice, have some blood, and angst.)

According to the other members of the League, Diana is the last person the ghost showed himself to.

The Leaguers don't even got to ask the boy's name, as after he appeared to Clark, he stayed silent, ever watching. Arthur has said he's been feeling watched lately, same with Barry, Hal and Bruce.

They all started to notice scratch marks appearing on some places. The Zeta tubes, by example. The scratch marks look like somebody desperately scratched at it after failing to operate the Zeta, and was trying to get out.

Diana sighed, walking to the observation deck. Maybe watching the vastness of space and the bright stars will clear her mind?

When she arrived, she noticed someone sitting on the floor by one of the big windows, looking outside, hand on the reinforced glass.

“It's the ghost.”

Was Dianas first thought upon seeing him. The ghost was indeed as small as everyone said he was, and even more frail. He looked like if a strong bit of wind would knock him over, if ghosts could even be knocked over or touched by the wind.

Melancholy was clear on the spirit's face, reflected by the glass. He seemed not to notice Diana walked in, even though her reflection should be on the glass, too. Maybe he was deep in thought.

Diana didn't want to interrupt the poor boy, but he seemed just.. so lonely. Bruce had said that everyone's accounts, except for Clark's and Barry's, were extremely brief encounters. No words were exchanged, only the brief surprise of encountering the ghost, and him being surprised at being seen, before vanishing yet again.

The sound of Diana's boots echoed against the silence of the room as she approached the ghost as silently as she could, not wanting to scare him.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Diana said, as the spirit's head snapped to her in an instant, startled even though she said it as calm and as quiet as she could.

The ghost watched her like a wounded animal, wary, and looking for any reason to bolt. Yet, he didn't. He wordlessly nodded, and Diana looked at the glass once again.

“The stars are so bright. Sometimes, i still stop just to admire how pretty they are.”

She mused, as the stars seemed to shine brighter in response to her compliment.

The ghost (They really needed to find out his name. it seemed so wrong to just call someone 'the ghost' or 'the boy' all the time.) seemed to think, but his head didn't leave Diana's direction, so she assumed he was still looking at her, shoulders looking tense.

..Until suddenly, they weren't as tense, as he relaxed a littlest bit.

“You really aren't anything like her.”

The ghost noted, his words repeating in a echo. Diana didn't how what he meant. Maybe she reminded him of somebody he used to know?

“You're good. Strong, but not evil. A inspiration, a hero. You're what she should have been. What she once was.”

Is what the ghost followed up with, his voice choked. The boy's arms started to shake.

Diana looked at the poor soul in front of him with concern. Who was 'she'? Did she hurt him? Is 'she' the one who killed him? So many questions, yet none of those she would have asked. He doesn't need questioning, he obviously needs someone to be there for him. To hear him.

“I'm sorry.”

Is what Diana started with, as the ghost looked up at her. She just knew that if the ghost had eyes, he would be holding tears back as she spoke.

“I may not know who you're talking about, but she doesn't sound lovely. I'm sorry you had an bad experience with her.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as a choked sob left the ghost, his whole body now shaking, small droplets of blood leaving the holes of where his eyes should be, imitating tears.

He threw himself at Diana, hugging her, as if he let go, she would be gone. His small figure shaking like a leaf as sniffles and sobs left him. Interestingly enough, he seemed somewhat more solid, and didn't phrase right through Diana, like what happened to Clark.

“You're g-good, right? Y-you wouldn't..”

He said between sobs. Diana noticed that her clothes and armour would be very bloody with tears, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She slowly hugged the crying boy back, using one hand to run her fingers through the small boy's hair, hoping to calm his desperate sobs down.

“T-they used me. I was b-blind and d-dumb and so stupid and..”

The boy continued, not letting go of the hug but now trying to look up at Diana.

Diana shot him a look that she hoped was comforting. She may not know what happened to him, but he clearly needed to get this out. The poor boy seemed to hesitate for a bit.

“You aren't dumb or stupid. Please, don’t beat yourself up like that, dear.”

That seemed to give the boy courage, as he let go of one hand to wipe away tears with his sleeve, the bright red hoodie now having a bit of blood on it.

“I-i thought we were doing the right thing..”

The spirit said, looking up at Diana. He couldn't look smaller like this, and it breaks Diana's heart.

“T-they called themselves heroes. Nobody stopped him.. they just... watched.”

Oh. Is the poor boy a villain victim? The thought of failing someone like him, leading to his death, hurt Diana even more. She didn't know the boy, but she would be damned if she let anyone ever hurt him again. And so, she hug him a little bit tigher, whispering encouragements as the boy paused to sob, his face now running with the bloody tear tracks.

“Grundy w-was the one who buried me. i n-never went home.”

That seemed to remind the ghost of something. Diana frowned. Who did that? Who was cruel enough to let someone like Grundy bury a child?

“Oh g-gods i never went home. M-Mary.. F-Freddy.. t-they're all still waiting.”

Oh.

He had a family. A family who didn't know he was murdered in cold blood and let to be buried by a villain. She didn't think this could get worse, but yet, it kept getting worse.

“T-they're still in the danger.. AND I CAN'T HELP THEM!”

This launched the ghost to a panic, pushing himself off the hug as he grasped his head. Diana felt so impossibly lost. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know what to or not to say- the poor ghost just realized his family probably just thought he was missing, and, according to him, were also in danger.

Diana grasped his shoulder gently as the spirit started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey. Could you look at me?”

Shakily, the ghost's head turned to her.

“Thank you. Could you imitate my breathing?”

Diana inhaled, then exhaled slowly, trying to get the ghost to copy her. When she noticed he was trying to, she smiled.

“Yes, just like that. You're doing great.”

The spirit continued until his breathing leveled up again and he slumped against Diana, utterly exhausted.

“I'm sorry.”

He apologized, wiping his bloody tears yet again, this time with the other sleeve.

Diana simply hugged him again.

“You don't need to apologize for anything, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

The boy slowly nodded, and seemingly fell asleep, utterly exhausted, probably both mentally and phisically.

“I promise i won't be like those who hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, if i have anything to say about it.”

She pet him, now looking up the glass, at the stars.

They truly looked beautiful.

/ / /

(Part 2 done! This will have a part 3, and it will be the final part.)

[https-immotmari]

❝ But I can't help myself when you get close to me ❞ ─── pjsk boys!

WRITER'S STARTER NONSENSE!

first request, yahey!(❁´◡`❁) and I should probably put request open for anyone getting confused if I'm open for requests or not. Also, I don't know if you want romantic or platonic so I'm doing romantic if you don't mind ^^* cute username and pfp btw!

fandom! .project sekai character(s) used! .akito shinonome, toya aoyagi, tsukasa tenma and rui kamishiro gender of reader! .gn!reader head start! .mention of toya's dad🤢

. . .akito shinonome!

dude is perplexed the moment you snake your arms around him. It's like he hasn't been given affection (he's touch-starved)

he should have known the first time he met you, you were as bubbly as bubbles from the powerpuff girls, or even more, and just like that, you've been a daydream and nightmare to him.

back when you two were friends, you kept it minimal such as asking for his permission whenever you want to hug him and even then, akito was, and still is, a flustered mess that it gets to the point that his brain is filled with you and you alone.... okay, maybe a bit of toya but, that's a bit, kay?

now that you two are a thing thanks to an, kohane and toya, you "innocently" used the knowledge you have to make this man a mess. as you should tbh

like, run your fingers through his hair while you're cuddling him, and HE'LL MELT FASTER THAN HE CAN RAP

only in private though, when you two are out in public and you feel the urge of cuddling him there and then, he can shyly give you a side hug for now.

like, poor baby is getting multiple heart attacks whenever you just pop out and immediately attacking him with your cuddly self.

when in private though, you won't waste time in cuddling this man to death, in which he secretly appreciates it, however, can't admit out loud due to his pride and ego.

to be honest, I headcannon him being a human heater when flustered like, you two are just cuddling, you are being your beautiful self and cuddling this man to death while he's just flustered as a boiling kettle. You can even see smoke coming out of his ears.

thanks to being his human heater self, his warmth is only making you want to cuddle him more!

also, thanks to ena and mizuki teasing little bro, he prefers you two cuddling in your house since no so-called annoying older sister and her friend teasing the living daylight out of him.

SMALL SPOON! HE'S FR A SMALL SPOON! he's so touch-starved for your affection, like, after finishing band practice, he rushed to your side and waits for you to have your urge in cuddling him, in which you immediately do it.

though, he still denies being the small spoon since quote-on-quote he's the man of this relationship.

just shut him up by pecking him on the lips and he'll immediately shuts down, use this to your advantage and cuddle him.

. . .toya aoyagi! (my fave&lt;;3)

another touch-starved baby since his father didn't give him enough love till now. L in the comments for toya's dad.

now, unlike your human heater, this guy is your human cooler.

so, whenever the summer hits and you feel like you're getting cooked to a T, just cuddle this guy and you'll feel like you're in the north pole. (merry christmas btw)

baby over here is melting from your cuddles and his gleeful smile and fond chuckles explains it.

I feel like he'll read you a story whenever you two are cuddling on his bed, since this is the only room he can have privacy besides the bathroom, he'll just one hand on the book and the other hand is wrapped around your waist or on your hair, twirling a strand or two.

even though he's fine with public pda, he's still cautious about his actions, his what ifs are like "what if somebody insults them whenever we do this" since toya cares about your feelings very much and he doesn't want your day and your feelings to be ruin by somebody who pokes their noses in other people's business. #stantoyaaoyagi

still, he'll keep an arm around you because toya wouldn't want to make your pretty head thinks he's tired of your cuddles,

it's actually the opposite, he's can never get tired of your affection and you.

though when in private, you can bet this man shows you his touch-starved self.

your cuddles are the medicine to every bad thing happening to him like, that one time where he and his dad got into a serious argument, he would go to your house and cuddle you there. once you open the door and see his rather saddened looked, your arms are already around him, whispering sweet words to him till he feels better.

no words can describe how much he places you above everything, even himself sometimes, baby just grateful to the gods above that he gets another person he can cherished besides his friends.

he was quite shy when you two were new but as time passed, you influenced him with your affection and cuddles, and now look at him, the same cuddly person as you are, maybe even more.

you guys having an unspoken rule on who's giving more cuddles and you damn well when it comes to game, toya aoyagi isn't losing but, he'll make an exception just for you<3

him being small or big spoon depends on his mood that day, like when he's feeling lovely as ever and wants to return every affection you've given him, he'll be the big spoon, especially if you had a bad day. this guy is a good listener and he'll be understanding of the situation. of course, you as well return his affection ^^.

and him being small spoon when him feeling tired after band practice, having a bad day, or whenever he feels like it.

you sometimes tease him about him being your baby and he just blushes, he doesn't deny it since he sometimes admits that he can be quite clingy and cuddly as an infant.

. . .tsukasa tenma!

this dude is ecstatic to have a partner like you (≧∀≦)ゞ

just two sunshines cuddling each other, nothing to see here~

to be honest, he doesn't care if you two are in public or private spaces, just cuddle the man right there and then.

though, if you're shy in public, he'll be understanding after teasing you a bit.

whenever some nosy people give their comments about give singles respect and blah blah blah and if it makes you feel bad about your cuddles, he'll declare war on them. he's a theater blonde, of course he's gonna do that.

it's rare seeing you two separated tbh. like, in school, every student can see you two having your arms around each other, in phoenix wonderland, his band mates, the guests, mascot, AND EVEN MIKU can see you two cuddling each other, even at his or your home!

you two just can't get enough of each other (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

though, whenever he's needed somewhere while he was cuddling with you, he'll whine before carrying you. he'll bring you everywhere since he needs his darling co-star to refill his energy whenever he feels tired.

his band mates just shake their heads and let their leader do whatever he wants.

tsukasa has the tendencies to squeeze you, he sometimes thinks you can squeak whenever he does that like a stuff toy he had when he was younger that he used to cuddle in his sleep.

though, speaking of family, his family especially saki adores you!

for saki, she's happy that her older brother has a partner like you since he always tires himself out just for her so it's wonderful seeing his brother having someone cuddly as you.

he flexes you to others. like, "look at my beloved starling! aren't they the cutest thing your eyes have ever seen?" and it's a picture of you sleeping while cuddling him and the person is just "huh?"

he flexes you as if you're a trophy or a great achievement in which you are.

it honestly relaxes him whenever you cuddle him, especially when it's such a peaceful day and without rui's inventions blowing him up. just you and him, in his bed, cuddling each other in peace while you two tell each other about your days and how it's been doing.

he cherished those moments with you, and nothing can replace those moments even when it's something expensive as gold.

like toya, him being small or big soon depends on his mood. if he wants to be pampered by you and your affection then he'll be the small spoon but, if he wants to return those pampering from you then he'll be the big spoon and pamper you! it's a win-win situation.

you make his heart go crazy, as well as his mind, that he made a play dedicated to you and you only.

. . .rui kamishiro!

aye! you like cuddles, he likes them as well! after some reassurance from you that is

from the start of your guys' relationship, he was not sure about being touchy with you but once you accepted him in those warm arms of yours, he's in.

like tsukasa, he doesn't care if you two are in public or private but, if you're too shy in public, he'll just give you a teasing cat smile and just gives wraps an arm around you all the while teasing you.

it ain't rui kamishiro without him teasing you at least 10 times a day.

you know those two faces/personality octopus plushies? the ones where each side has a different expression of the octopus plushie, you two have those but quite different from the normal ones, thanks to mizuki's help, he made two plushies for the two of you. one of the sides of the octopus plushie has a '^^' expression while the other side said, 'I'm having the urge to cuddle you rn'.

so, whenever you want to cuddle this man and you're too shy to say it, just flip the octopus plushie and he'll understand. I can imagine him being the big spoon cuddling you while both of your octopus plushies are on top of your guys' head, having the "^^" expression on them.

it's so cute that it'll give other cavities q(≧▽≦q)

just like his leader, direct over here will carry you everywhere just for the dose of his daily cuddles. he can either carry you bridal style, on his back, or maybe on his shoulders if he's feeling very teasing at that moment.

surprised attack cuddles!

you'll have to make a perfect plan to catch him off guard since he's always on guard due to you doing your surprised attack cuddles very often.

but, once you did catch him off guard with your surprised attack cuddles, he'll simply chuckles and say "such a sly partner I have~" but if you squint, you can see his cheeks being painted with the beautiful colour of red.

yes, rui kamishiro can be flustered, you just have to work hard on it.

sometimes nene just third wheel you two while you two cuddle and she's just playing her game, she doesn't feel bothered by it since she's grown used to the two of you being like this, i mean, she was the one who helped along in setting you two up.

if he was a cat, he would purr in your embrace. little kamishiro just can't get enough of you and it shows.

you're as cuddly as a teddy bear if he were to describe you. whatever occasion the world has, you two simply cuddle each other like every other day yet rui feels like he's on cloud nine.

he's mostly the big spoon when it comes to cuddles since he wants to just have you laying on his chest while he ruffles your hair, something peaceful he needed in his rather chaotic life.

however, if you want to be the big spoon this time, he'll reluctantly agree, after teasing you of course, and be the one being pampered by you.

every picture of you in his phone is you cuddling on him, and he cherishes those pictures, two of the pictures are set as his wallpaper in home and lock screen.

he just can't wait to get home after practice so you can attack him with those cuddles of yours (/≧▽≦)/

WRITER'S ENDING NONSENSE!

my goodness I feel like some sort of creature possessed me and gave me motivation for this! Hope this tale satisfied you, @hearts4saki! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

rules! + masterlist!

[miaoua3]

My Home

Pairing: dino x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, just…fluff

Description: dino has a very hard day. dino’s day gets considerably better because of you. dino is in love with you.

Note: I LOVE DINO SM I WANT TO CRY PLS GOD TAKE ALL OF HIS SUFFERING AND GIVE IT TO THE TOXIC KPOP STANS PLS

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you have come to the point in your relationship where you knew how dino felt simply by how his presence felt.

so last night when he came back home and you could barely feel him (as well as hear him because he was just so quiet), you immediately knew that the love of your life was exhausted.

when he came in through the door, he only greeted you with a little, raspy “hello” instead of something cute and flirty like “good evening my beautiful lady” like he usually does. not only that, but during dinner you noticed that he barely talked, mostly just humming or saying filler words like “oh really?”.

if all those things weren’t enough for you to see how tired he was, the dark circles under his eyes certainly were.

that’s why after he took a quick shower, you immediately took you both to your bedroom to sleep, pulling him in your arms so his head was resting on your chest and scratching his head just the way you knew he loved whenever you did it.

the poor boy fell asleep in the matter of minutes, squeezing you to death, almost as if he was seeking your comfort for him to be able to float away and into the dreamland.

you didn’t feel offended by his behaviour, or as some might interpret it, ignorance, but rather you felt your heart break for your boyfriend. even after the most tiring days he usually still had enough energy to spend a little quality time with you. so you knew that he must’ve been beyond his limit and that he was deadly exhausted.

which proved to be right when even after 11 hours he still hasn’t woken up yet.

knowing he will wake up sooner or later, you decided to make him breakfast, just something simple that won’t overwhelm him.

and like clockwork, the door of your bedroom opens and in comes your boyfriend, shirtless and with puffy eyes, blindly and directly going towards you.

“good morning baby”, you wish him just as he reaches you. your boyfriend just grunts in response as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, rubbing his face against your shoulder.

the difference in the grunts he was letting out as a response yesterday and the one he just let out isn’t all that big, but still you can tell how much better he’s feeling. it’s actually because his presence feels lighter today-more at peace.

chan just continues to hug you and rub his face against your shoulder, making you smile gently.

“slept well?”, you ask him gently. your boyfriend-expectedly- just grunts in response, making you chuckle lightly.

he, in response, kisses your cheek sweetly, mumbling ‘i love you’ with his lips still pressed against your skin.

deciding to give your boyfriend your full attention, you turn in his arms, your own automatically wrapping themselves around his neck, fingers playing with the back of his hair, a few weeks of growth being noticeable due to its length.

dino, bless his heart, can barely see you with his puffy eyes, just slowly blinking at you. not being able to resist his cuteness, you lean in and leave a gentle peck on his lips, your hands sliding down to rest on his bare shoulders.

your boyfriend hums deeply in response, unconsciously pulling you closer. after a second, your lips naturally fall apart.

chan blinks his eyes open, your beautiful face being the first thing his sight falls onto, and it overwhelms him a little bit.

knowing that he has somebody to come home to, but not only that, a somebody who he can come home to and be in a bad mood without them taking it personally and starting a fight about it, but instead taking care of him with such gentleness…it makes his body feel like it’s brimming with love, almost overflowing. sometimes it got so overwhelmingly big that he didn’t know what to do with it, a sense of panic washing over him.

like right now.

“i’m sorry if i was in a weird mood yesterday. it’s just that practice was a lot, and the tour is nearing with everyday, everyone was feeling irritated and so we all fought a lot, hoshi-hyung had a scream-off match with coups-hyung and it was all just-“.

before he can continue, you just put your finger on his lips to shut him up.

“do you feel better now?”, is the only thing you ask him in return.

chan, confused, just nods his head in response.

it seems like that’s all the confirmation you needed because you smile gently at him, leaning in to peck his lips again.

“then that’s all i need to know”, you finish.

and dino isn’t sure where the words come from, nor when the thought itself appeared in his mind, but all he responds with is.

“marry me. like, for real. be mine. and let me be yours. forever.”

to say that his words got you shocked is an understatement. but no matter how shocked you felt, answering a question of his never felt as easy as answering this one.

“of course i will.”

it didn’t matter that he didn’t have a ring (or a shirt for that matter), or that it was unplanned and that it was just you two present for it.

it all felt perfect to you.

it felt like home.

[aothotties]

Mommy Chaser pt. 3

Previous Chapters: (1)(2)

Warnings: swearing, masturbation, protected sex, riding, cunnilingus (m & f receiving), biting, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, lots of kissing!

Word count: 3.9K

Note: I am SO sorry it took me this fucking long to post this but I hope you all enjoy it!! :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mika, I don’t want to jinx anything with Eren but he’s damn near perfect.” You gush to your best friend while you pace back and forth. 

“Y/N! You must like him if you’re talking like this, are you sure you two haven’t slept together yet?” She asks somewhat playfully, Jean is sitting right next to her waiting for you to answer. 

“Ha ha, you know I haven’t slept with him. I can’t lie to you and say I’m not curious though.” You lay on the bed and bite your lip at the memory of your last encounter. 

The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils when he wrapped his arms around you for a hug. Or the comforting feeling of his muscular abdomen against your fingertips. 

“Are you still there?” You’re drawn out of your daydream by Mikasa and feel heat rush to your cheeks. 

“She’s probably thinking about getting dicked down right now.” Jean mumbles and your jaw quickly drops at such a wild, but somewhat true, accusation. 

You hear a smack and a yelp from Jean before Mikasa apologizes for his vulgar statement. 

“Please ignore him, we’re playing drunk board games and somebody’s having fun.” 

You can feel the poor woman’s embarrassment through the phone and let out a giggle to reassure her. 

“That sounds like fun, and even though your husband is an idiot…he’s not completely wrong.” You can’t help but admit defeat as more reminders from the other night flood your mind. 

“Oh my he’s really on your mind, isn’t he? I say go for it; I’ve known him for a long time and he’s a good guy. You deserve to move on and be happy.” You feel your worries die down the more she speaks, it’s almost like she’s giving you her blessing. 

“He’s corny as hell and eats enough for three people!” Jean adds and receives another light smack, this time he pulls Mikasa on top of him. 

You laugh and roll your eyes at his drunken words. You stare at the phone in confusion when there’s a lingering silence, soon followed by whispers and giggling. 

“Y’all, I’m still here. I’ll call you guys tomorrow night. Love you!”

“We love you more! Let us know how everything goes, Jean!” You hear your friend let out a fit of giggles before the line disconnects. 

You swipe over to your messaging app and sigh nervously. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a few minutes, you chew on your bottom lip and let out a sigh. 

You’re not even sure why you’re so anxious about all of this. Your baby girl is with her grandmother for the weekend, you don’t have to stress about working at all. It’s quite literally the perfect weekend for him to come over. 

“It’s now or never.” You mumble to yourself and start typing on the screen below. 

You smile at the last message before double-tapping it and leaving a heart. The feeling of the soft mattress and warm blanket have you drifting off. 

On the other side of

town Eren is acting like a teenage boy. If he could bounce off the walls in excitement he absolutely would, he’s only slightly ashamed of the bulge in his pants forming. It’s not his fault you’re the most divine woman in his eyes, you’re just so perfect. 

The thought of knowing that he’s going to finally get to see all of you, he’ll finally get to touch and squeeze your perfect breasts. All the nights of imagining what you look, feel and taste like have him leaking precum. 

He pulls off the suffocating boxers and lets out a hum of relief when the cool air makes contact with his hot tip. A thick hand wraps around the base and drags up, massaging the pink tip each time. 

“Y/N” He whines as he rapidly fuck his fist, his free hand grabs the sheets below as he gets close to his release. 

His tipping point is the thought of what your tight pussy is going to feel like wrapped around him. The hand grabbing the sheets slaps over his mouth as he moans loudly into his palm. 

He falls back onto his pillows and lets out a sigh of relief as he catches his breath. He looks down at the mess on his hand and huffs sleepily. 

“Just one more day.” He mumbles to himself while wiping the sticky fluid off himself. 

The next day finally rolls around and you’ve never felt more nervous for anything in your life. 

“Pull yourself together girl, you’ve had lots of sex before.” You say to yourself in the mirror while gently patting your cheeks. 

Your pep talk comes to an end when you hear the doorbell ring, you look over yourself once again in the mirror before shutting the light off. 

“Who is it?” You ask as you walk up to the door, a smile forms when you look through the peephole and see Eren on the other side. 

“It’s your future husband, open the door, sweetheart.” He responds playfully and you shake your head to refrain from laughing. 

You quickly unlock the door and move to the side so he can walk in. He drops his bag on the floor and removes his shoes before pulling you into a hug. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in closer. You take a deep breath and get a whiff of his cologne. 

“You smell nice.” You mumble against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and hums contently. 

“Thank you, I was thinking of you when I bought it. Are you hungry? I brought snacks for us to have.” He sets you back on the ground and you shake your head in response.

“I had lunch not too long ago, I can make you something if you’re hungry.” You politely offer and he’s the one to shake his head.

“I ate beforehand too, and when it’s time to eat dinner will be on me. I’m gonna be treating you today. Now show me one of those movies you were talking about.” He turns you towards the living room and you both sit on the couch.

“It’s called Bridgerton Eren.” You correct him, he playfully rolls his eyes and turns on an episode he’s never seen.

You get comfortable on the couch and cuddle up to Eren. You focus closely on the screen and give your full attention to the show.

In the few months of you two meeting one another, Eren has never understood why you love this show so much. 

Maybe it’s the attractive cast members, or maybe it is the plot, he’ll just have to watch and see for himself. That only lasts for a few seconds before his eyes land on your focused state. 

He grins at how entranced you are before the sound of moaning catches his attention. His eyes lock onto the TV and he raises an eyebrow. 

“So this is what you watch when I’m not here?” He smirks at you and you shake your head. 

“Not all the time! Sometimes I watch Modern Family or Brooklyn 99.” You say matter in rebuttal. 

He nods his head and hums in response before giving his attention back to the screen. He watches closely as the actors kiss and caress each other so tenderly. 

He shifts around on the couch to relieve some of the pressure in his underwear and glances to make sure you don’t notice anything. Thoughts of his hands groping your body and his lips kissing down your neck flood his mind as the scene goes on. 

You’re no better, there’s wetness pooling in your panties at the thought of him ravishing your body. Oh, how you long to be able to feel his mouth on yours, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you come from another orgasm. 

You look over at Eren and are surprised to see how intensely he’s staring at the television. His Adam’s Apple moves up and down as he Mswallows nervously and keeps his eyes on the screen. 

You sit up and hold back a laugh at the blush that forms on his cheeks. 

“No I’m good, why are you alright?” He rubs the palms of his hands and his jeans and you nod in response to his question. 

“I’m doing great, if you want we can watch something else.” You reach for the remote, he gently grabs your hand and shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to do that, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He reassures you with a smile and a pat on the leg. 

“You know what's nice about being a mom?” You tilt your head and run your fingers through his hair. 

He inhales deeply and hums in relaxation at the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp. He looks over at you and gives you a tired smile, he can’t help but crumble under each stroke of your fingers. 

“You can almost always tell when someone’s lying.” You whisper in his ear and watch as he has a full-body shiver. 

You place a finger on his lips to silence him. He swallows nervously but refuses to take his eyes off yours. 

You find yourself climbing into his lap as if it’s your throne. The finger that was covering his lips traces the outline of his mouth. 

He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you in closer, you close the space between you two and press your lips together.

You release his hair from its ponytail and tug gently at his roots, a groan falls from his lips at the sensation and his hands steadily move down your back, they hover above your ass and you pull away from his lips.

“You can touch me Eren, I want you to touch me.” You stroke his cheek with your thumb and he nods his head, he pulls you down by the back of your neck and slides his tongue in your mouth.

This time you’re the one that’s making sounds, you whimper into the kiss when his large hands rub the fat of your ass. His hips buck abruptly and your whimpers turn into moans, you can feel his hard cock against the fabric of your shorts.

Your hands grab at his shirt, urging him to take it off quickly. He gets the hint and pulls away from your lips to remove it. You bite your lip at the sight of his body from under you, you can’t help but trail a finger down his abdomen.

“Don’t be shy baby.” He teases and takes your hand trailing it down his body at a teasingly slow pace. 

He smirks at how shy you’ve suddenly become, only watching his body and no longer making eye contact. He takes your hand and stops the movements at the waistband of his pants, you gulp and feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Do I make you nervous, pretty girl?” He chuckles and tilts your chin upwards so that you’re both face to face.

You shake your head and take the opportunity to massage the outline of his dick through his sweatpants. 

He hisses in pleasure and throws his head back against the couch, you experiment by replacing your hand with a roll of your hips.

“Fuck baby, do that again.” His hands help your hips grind back and forth, you fall forward and smash your lips on his. 

He smirks against your lips as your moans get louder with each buck of your hips. He pulls back from your lips and raises your tank top, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. 

“Eren!” You gasp in pleasure and dig your nails into his shoulder. He groans at the sting and gently bites down on the bud.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you fear that you might come in your pants if he doesn’t let up, not like he would mind that anyway.

He pulls away and places a gentle kiss on your breast before taking the other bud into his mouth to give it equal attention. Your back arches and you feel more of your arousal soak into your panties, you know for a fact that there’s a wet spot on Eren’s pants.

Eren feels like he’s in heaven with the feeling of your hands in his hair and your clothed cunt grinding against him. He pulls off of your nipple with a pop and falls back onto the couch, he takes a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m not too much for you, am I?” He asks in all seriousness, you give him a genuine smile and shake your head in return.

“No Ren, not at all. If I’m uncomfortable then I’ll let you know.” You reassure him and press your forehead against his, craving the feeling of being as close to him as possible.

“I’m gonna touch you now if that’s okay?” He plays with the waistband on your shorts as he waits for an answer. 

You permit him by moving next to him so you can slide your shorts and panties down simultaneously. 

You move to sit back in his lap and he quickly stops you. He lays you back against the pillows on the couch and looks over your body.

“I want to get a good look at you first.” He praises, his eyes take their time as he scans every inch of your body. His dick hardens in his pants at the sight of your wet cunt right in front of him.

“Just a quick taste, yeah?” He asks more himself than you, he spreads your legs and makes eye contact with your heat.

His pink tongue licks a gentle stripe up your clit and you shudder at the feeling. After the positive reaction, he dives deeper into your cunt, and your hands immediately grab the couch. 

His large hands securely grip your thighs and his tongue darts in and out of your dripping hole.

Your back arches off of the couch in response to the immense pleasure between your legs. He moans into your cunt as your juices flow down his throat, he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb and watches you squirm around.

“E-Eren!” You gasp as you feel your orgasm creep up on you. Eren replaces his tongue with his fingers and licks your sweetness off his lips.

“You gonna come on my fingers, baby? Go ahead, princess.” His long fingers curve upward and you grab his wrist with a sense of urgency.

“I'm gonna cum Ren, f-fuck I wanna cum on you!” He pouts when you stutter and nips at your exposed neck, he places kisses up your neck and stops at your ear.

“You will baby, I want you to cum on my fingers too. I want you nice and wet for me.” He pulls you closer with his free hand and pumps his fingers at a quicker pace.

You pull him into a kiss and moan against his lips as you release on his hand, you bite his lip as you pull away and he removes his fingers from your cunt. 

He slides a finger into his mouth and closes his eyes as he saviors your sweet nectar. You copy his actions and suck on his middle finger, making sure to maintain eye contact with him.

“You’re trying to kill me.” He says jokingly, his dick on the other hand jumps when you pull off of his finger.

“Not quite yet, I still have to return the favor.”

You press against his chest and undo the tie on his pants, your fingers drag along his thighs as you pull his pants and boxers off. 

You watch in awe as his dick springs free and rests on his stomach. You wrap a hand around the base of his cock and massage the base, he sighs in pleasure at the feeling of your soft hand against his warm skin. 

His eyes widen when your thick lips wrap around his sensitive tip, he looks down to see your brown eyes staring into his green ones.

You mentally pat yourself on the back at the look of deep pleasure displayed on his face. You take more of him into your mouth and relax your throat with each inch you

Eren gathers some of your hair and holds it up 

into a makeshift bun, he hisses and watches you in admiration. 

His eyes close tightly and he finds himself gripping the cushions on the couch. The feeling of your wet tongue massaging the veins on his dick has him seeing stars. 

His grip on your hair tightens after you fully take him down your throat. Your moans send vibrations to his dick that spreads pleasure throughout his entire system. 

“Fuck baby girl, you take me so well.” His grip loosens on your hair and he guides your lips up and down his shaft. 

You moan at the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue, you take a look at the man above and squeeze your thighs at the imagery. 

His head is thrown against the back of the couch, his chest heaving up and down as little pants leave his pink lips. His abs flex with each suction of your lips, and his pretty brown hair falls in his face when his eyes meet yours. 

You give him a slight smile and he flashes you a weak one in return, he gently pulls you off his cock and back into his lap. He closes the gap between you both with his lips and sighs into your mouth. He pulls your shirt off and throws it somewhere in the living room. 

You moan passionately as his soft hands roam your body so freely and delicately. He pulls away to catch his breath and gives you a small laugh. 

“Not to ruin the moment, but there’s condoms in my bag.” He rubs your thigh with his thumb and you nod in remembrance. 

“Oh shit, yeah you’re so right. Duh!” You ruffle through his book bag until you find the small aluminum package. 

Tearing it open with your teeth, you raise your hips so you can properly slide it on him. He bites his lip and more precum can be seen dripping from his tip as the condom goes on. 

You throw a leg over his waist and hold onto the back of the couch to maintain balance. He rests his hands on your hips and massages the skin to ease any nerves. 

You lower yourself slowly and gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging its way through your entrance. Eren helps guide you down his shaft at a slow pace, his fingers grip your hips tighter and you moan at the stretch. 

“T-take your time pretty girl. We’ve got all day.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb as your thighs tremble with each inch your pussy swallows. 

You nod your head and focus on getting as much of his thick cock inside of you as you can. Erens mouth falls open at the way your tight heat sucks him in with each movement. You finally bottom out after a few more seconds of pacing yourself, he tangles his fingers with your manicured ones and kisses your hands. 

“You okay?” He wraps a finger around one of your coils and you nod your head in return, he leaves small pecks on your cheeks to ease your mind. 

“You’re a lot um, t-thicker than I imagined.” You sheepishly confess this brings a smirk and chuckle from the man below you. 

“Is that so baby? You’re telling me my confidence didn’t give it away.” He teases, you hit his chest and he thrust upward in retaliation. 

The sensation of his thick tip hitting your sweet spot draws a sultry moan from you. 

“How do we get that sound to happen again?” He experimentally bucks his hips again from under you, you dig your nails into the couch at the stretch from his cock and the pleasure it’s bringing to your body. 

“ ‘Ren! F-feels so good.” You throw your head back as you bounce up and down in his lap. 

The green-eyed man below you watches in content as you set the pace and fuck yourself silly on his hardened cock.  Jolts of pleasure course through his veins, and his heart rate speeds up with each movement of your hips. 

“ c’mere beautiful.” He pulls you into another kiss and pistons his hips upward to fuck against your g-spot. 

He holds you in by the back of your neck when you squirm in pleasure, your whines are swallowed by his groans which only egg him on further. 

On your end, you feel another orgasm building up in your lower stomach. The feeling of satisfaction is drawn out of you each time his thick cock head taps your cervix. Your gummy walls draw him in more each time he fucks into you. 

“I-I’m gonna come Eren! Please don’t s-stop.” You cry out as your second release quickly hits you, you fall limp against his lap and his thrust keeps you moving. 

“Am I too much baby? You’re such a pretty girl.” He compliments you and watches as you try to weakly bounce atop him. 

You shake your head and whimper as you climax against him yet again. 

“I didn’t even do anything that time, I didn’t realize my sweet girl was so sensitive.” He playfully pouts and kisses your cheek delicately. 

“ m-my legs are tired Ren.” You huff and he nods while giving you a sympathetic nod in return. 

“ ‘s okay mama, let your man take care of you, just a little bit longer like this. You feel so good.” He praises through gritted teeth. 

He has you wrap your arms around his shoulders while he holds the sides of your hips. He massages your smooth skin with his palms before controlling the speed of your hips, a low growl leaves his lips as your cunt drips down his eager cock. 

“Oh my god, yes yes fuck!” You cry out as your climax rushes upon you again. 

Any moans that Eren was holding fall out of his mouth as you clench and cream all over his thick shaft. He pumps his cock into you a few more times to ride out your orgasm before pulling out abruptly. 

“Can you handle a little more baby?”

That was the last thing you remember before you awake from a deep slumber. The room around you is dimly lit by your bedroom lamp, which you didn’t even realize you made it to…

Your thoughts are interrupted by Eren peeking his head in the door with a bright smile. You return the gesture and signal for him to join you on the bed. 

“Did you get enough rest? You were out for like 2.5-3 hours.” He holds back a laugh as you look away in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, I think I’m well rested.” You let out a yawn and groan loudly as you stretch, your head turns to look at the time and your eyes widen. 

“8:30?!? Eren you came over at like 1:45! Oh my god, are you hungry?” You rush out of bed and head to your kitchen, only to be surprised by takeout on the table. 

“I told you, dinner and everything else today was on me.” You hear from behind you, you turn around and cross your arms. 

“Well, don’t you just have the answers to everything?” You walk up to him and smile. 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

Ari

[thewulf]

Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.   

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

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