#the good news is that almost twelve hours later im finally back to a normal body temp

[tinyrosemarysparrows]

Marinating pork in spiced rum for the first time so we will see how this goes.

[lils-writes-stuff]

The Lesson

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part four | part three | part two | part one | season one

summary: the week that changed everything

warning: normal criminal minds things, angst, sadness, gore, fun stuff

A/N: based on season 8 episode 10; you’re all going to hate me, im sorry, i promise it gets better the is the storm before the rainbow

 The cool Georgia air hit Y/N’s face as she stepped out of her rental car. The scene in front of her seemed so foreign after years of being away. Her childhood home stared her down as she stood in its driveway. She almost didn’t want to go in. Every time she saw her mom, she came to visit her. So the last time she was truly home, was almost six years ago. 

 She walked up to the front door, duffel bag in one hand and the other raised to knock. However, that wasn’t needed, because her mom swung the door open the minute she saw her. 

 “Y/N!” She exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight, motherly hug.

 “Hi Mom,” she whispered, her cheeks squished against her mother’s shoulder. 

 “Come in, come in,” she ushered her daughter into the house. Y/N looked around the home she once called her own. The walls were a lighter color then she remembered and there was new furniture and decorations scattered throughout. 

 “So I have it all planned out, I know you’re only here for a couple of days, but tonight, you’re aunt and uncle are coming over for dinner, along with some of our friends. Them for the other two days we can do whatever you want.” Her mom was standing on the opposite side of the island from Y/N, a smile absorbing her face as she looked at her daughter. 

 Y/N just looked at her mom, a watery smile on her face. She wasn’t upset at all though, she was just so happy to see her mom again. 

 “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Her Mom walked to the other side of the counter. 

 “Nothing, Mom, I just am so glad to see you,” she whimpered. 

 Her mom gave her the same watery smile and wrapped her in another hug. 

 The two sat in the kitchen, coffee cups in hand, laughing about her mom’s stories at her restaurant she worked at. Y/N told stories of the team and how much they loved her mom from her visits up there. 

 “So have you done it yet?” Y/N’s mom asked, pointing to her left hand. 

 “No, not yet.” 

 “Why not?” 

 “I don’t know, I just haven’t found the right time I guess,” Y/N shrugged.

 “Well, I think that when you get back you should just do it.” Her mom laughed taking another sip of her coffee. “You talk about how perfect he is and me and London are waiting in anticipation for that call, so just do it. The next time you see him.” 

 “We’ll see mom, we’ll see.” 

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

 It had been two days since Y/N had left to go home for a visit. After the night where Spencer gave her the idea, she waited about three weeks before actually executing it. Spencer kept pushing her to go, telling her the team could survive without her. So she finally went. 

 “You know, now I know how you felt when I was gone on your leave,” Spencer laughed during his confession. His phone was pressed against his ear as he passed back and forth in their living room. 

 “Oh yeah, but I learned to survive, how are you holding up?” Y/N asked through the phone. She stood in the kitchen of her childhood home, leaning on the island with her coffee sitting in front of her. “And besides it’s only been like what? Three days?” 

 “Two days twelve hours and thirty-six seconds,” Spencer corrected. 

 “Ah, forgive me. And here I thought you didn’t miss me at all, clearly, you do.” 

 Spencer chuckled at her remark, “So much.”

 “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I miss you too,” Y/N admitted. “And my mom misses you too, she says that we both need to come down here and visit together sometime.” 

 “I think that’d be fun,” Spencer said.  

 “Hey, Spence, so listen I was thinking when I get back we could go out to dinner, you know like a fancy restaurant maybe?” Her voice was hesitant at her request. Her heart pounded in anticipation as she waited for Spencer’s answer. 

 “Sure, that sounds great. Rossi was telling me about this great Italian place yesterday that we could go too,” Spencer responded. His mind raced at the thought of them going, knowing it would be the perfect opportunity to ask her the question he’s been waiting for. 

 “Perfect,” she responded. He could see her do her little jump of excitement through her voice. 

 Spencer was quiet for a second and looked up at the larger than average sized clock in the living room. He was late. Then his phone pinged, pulling it away from his ear, he saw the message from Penelope about a case.

 “Damn it,” he muttered. “Y/N, I’m late and we’ve got a case, I love you, I’ll talk to you later?” He rushed around the apartment, grabbing all his items and go-bag so he could head out the door. 

 “Yeah, sounds good bub love you too,” she responded. 

 “Bye.” 

 Spencer pocketed his phone quickly and rushed for the door of the apartment. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the black box he left out. Quickly, he picked it up and put it in his satchel. He opened the door and rushed to make it to Quantico in time. 

 “Sorry I’m late, guys, I had an appointment,” Spencer rushed, taking his bag off and sitting in his chair. 

 “Uh-huh, did this appointment have to do with a Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, who you so dearly miss,” Derek teased, making kissy faces at Spencer.

 Spencer muttered a small ‘shut up’ and pulled the file on the table closer to him. 

 “Alright let’s get started,” Hotch said as he quickly entered the room. 

 Maybe I wasn’t as late as I thought, Spencer thought to himself. 

 “Yeah, okay,” Penelope said, standing up from her chair. “Three days ago, Bruce Phillips was found dead with his blond hair dyed black. He had been put in a box and left on a busy street.”

 “A custom-made box,” Rossi noted as the picture of the box came up on the screen. 

 “Maybe our unsub was a carpenter,” Blake posed, twiddling with a pen in her hand. 

 “He stuffed him in there practically folding him in half,” Derek added. 

 Spencer looked at the pictures of the man in the box. His legs bent and broken at the knee and his head leaned back against the box. 

 “He had also been hung and restrained and that’s where the plot thickens like a bad soup,” Penelope explained as she pulled up the next two victims. “Yesterday, Justin Marks and Connie Foster, who were dating, they went missing two miles away from the first abduction site.” 

 “A couple? He’s escalating,” JJ remarked at the new information. 

 “Yes, this morning Justin’s body was found. He had been hung, he had been stuffed in a box in an alley. Officers say his brown hair had been dyed black. Connie is still missing,” Penelope continued. 

 “So he probably still has her,” JJ said. 

 “Why would he reject Justin overnight but keep the first male victim for two days?” Derek asked, not understanding the escalation. 

 “Something about him didn’t work,” Rossi responded, looking up from his file to the TV with the victims. “Look at his neck. He was hung multiple times.” 

 “The question is, what does he do with Connie?” Blake asked.

 “He could make her watch him abuse the men or have asphyxiated sex with them,” Spencer posed a theory. 

 “Well, a brunette male and a woman are crucial to this guy's fantasy,” Derek said. 

 “Well he’s kept Connie, maybe she’s the object of his desire,” JJ said. 

 “Well, our first order of business is finding her and then making sure he doesn’t do this again.” Hotch closed his file and stood up. “Wheels up in thirty.”

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

 Spencer sat on the coach of the jet, his head resting on the backside of his hand as his eyes followed the clouds that rolled beneath them. He thought about all the ways the dinner with Y/N could go, his fear of rejection showing itself as he thought about her saying no. But then he thought of her saying yes, a smile shining bright on her face and it allowed some of his anxiety to wash away. 

 Still, he was nervous. Penelope and JJ had tried to reassure him many times that she would say yes, even Blake thought so, but he was still scared. But isn’t everyone when they’re about to propose? 

 “Alright let’s go over victimology,” Hotch said, gaining everyone’s attention.

 Spencer peeled his eyes away from the window and back towards the group. 

 “Both male victims had their hair dyed black, and the woman is a brunette,” Hotch began the topic. 

 “The guys are similar, same ages, same builds,” Blake added. 

 “Hey were also abducted outside their homes, which were all in the same area,” Rossi continued. 

 “So they were probably being stalked,” Derek noted.

 “Was Connie with her boyfriend when she was abducted?” Spencer asked quickly. 

 “It looks that way,” JJ answered, then began to read from the file. “Her purse was found on the ground outside of his house.”

 “So this involves some kind of ruse,” Derek said.

 “It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes,” Spencer added, not sure about the ruse thing. 

 “Well, some people let their guard down,” Blake countered. 

 For some reason, Spencer started to become very defensive about this. “Yeah, but stalking victims vary their routes home. They enter and exit through different doors, they wear disguises. They don’t talk to anyone in their driveway. They hardly talk to anyone at all, They’re-they’re terrorized.”

 Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so worked up about that. But he couldn’t help but spew the stuff he had learned about victims of stalking onto everyone. He couldn’t help that instinctive feeling inside of him. 

 The team looked at him, confused and shocked gazes on their faces. They did not expect that outburst from him.

 “Okay, so maybe they were followed, Reid,” Derek said in hopes to have him back down his front he was putting up. “I mean, the bottom line is the unsub escalated. The first male was abducted alone, the second was with his girlfriend.” 

 “We, what do we know about her?” JJ asked, hoping to find some new information to help them. 

 “Connie was in her thirties, baked cakes for a living, she never had a run-in with the law,” Blake answered. 

 “Assuming he kept her, what’s the reason?” Rossi posted the new question. 

 “She’s the necessity, somehow she fits into his fantasy,” Blake replied. 

 “And so far, that need may be what’s keeping her alive,” Hotch added.

 “So what we know is that we have an unsub with a fantasy or a deep desire that requires the man to look a specific way,” Derek said, going over what they so far had. 

 “Since he rejected Justin so quickly, he’s probably looking for a replacement as we speak,” Spencer added.

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

 The doors of the elevator opened with a ding as Y/N reached the sixth floor of the FBI academy building. When she stepped out, a hand grasped tight on the strap of her bag, she was met with the familiar smell of coffee and paper. She had made it back earlier that day,the apartment her and Spencer shared empty when she arrived. So, not being able to deal with the quiet again, she decided to head to the office. 

  She was supposed to be in Georgia for another day, but when she heard there was a case, she really couldn’t help but come back. Her mom understood, she would have been leaving in the morning anyway. So before she went to the airport, Y/N visited her brother's grave like she had intended to do. 

 She stood about ten feet away from the headstone, fear of stepping on his body in the ground made her stomach turn. She told him all about her job and how proud she thought he’d be of her. How Derek had become an older brother to her when she moved up there. And she told him about Spencer. All about how she was planning on proposing to him and how excited she was to do it. 

 “Hey, I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” Penelope’s question brought Y/N out of her memory. 

 “Oh yeah, but I heard there was a case and I was leaving in the early morning tomorrow so I just decided to catch an earlier flight,” Y/N answered, pulling her lips into a line. 

 “Oh, so you get to hang out with me on this one!” Penelope excitedly took Y/N’s hand and pulled her to her office. 

 “So catch me up to speed,” Y/N said as she sat in the extra swivel chair in Penelope’s office. 

 Penelope explained everything she did to the team before they left and added in the details of what they told her so far on their victimology. With only some of the broader picture told to her, she was able to fill in the rest of the victimology herself.

 “How was Georgia?” Penelope asked after she finished typing on her computer. 

 “It was good, got to hang out with my family, go visit some old friends, wasn’t too exciting,” YN said, her eyes still trained on the tablet in her lap as she looked at the photos of the case. 

 “Cool,” Penelops’s eyes wandered the office. “ So, did you figure out how you’re going to propose to Spencer?” 

 “Ah, so that’s why you’re making small talk,” Y/N laughed, closing the tablet now. “Yes, I have. When they get back from the case, we’re going to go to dinner and I’m going to ask him.” 

 “Oh my gosh, can I be there? No, that’d be weird he’d be suspicious. But I want to see his reaction and you’re reaction and-” 

 “Garcia-” Y/N put her hand up to have her stop rambling- “You will see tons of pictures, and I am sure you are going to convince Rossi to throw some sort of party.” 

 “Good point, Penelope whispered. “I probably will have that done.” 

-----------

 “I’ve been getting lame GSWs, a few bus crash victims, but a hanging? This is fun,” The M.E., Dr. Cross, said to Rossi and Spencer after she brought them over to the body. “You think it was sexual?”

 “Not in the traditional sense,” Rossi responded, slightly weirded out from the woman's excitement. 

 “Well, look-” she pointed to the victim’s body- “there are numerous ligature marks on the neck, indicating he was hung multiple times. The ones without abrasions were probably made by something soft, like fabric.” 

 “Any idea how long it went on for?” Spencer asked, looking up from the victim's body to Cross.

 “Based on the different varying coloration of the bruising, I’d say about twelve hours,” Cross answered, then pointed to another mark on the body. “This ligature mark with the abrasion is the final one.” 

 She moved the light in her hand down the neck of the victim to point out what she found next. “There’s an inverted ‘V’ in the back. He was hung with a leather strap or belt, which is what killed him. Oh, we also found ketamine in his system.”   

 When Cross mentioned the final hanging, Spencer stood up from his hunched position and walked over to the x-rays on the light board. 

 “Well, ketamine acts quickly, so he must have used a ruse to get close to our victim,” Rossi said. 

 “Look at this,” Spencer held up the x-rays, “The bones were perfectly disjointed.”

 “Could have dislocated from the fall after hanging or when he shoved him in the box,” Rossi said, trying to give some ideas as to why they were dislocated. 

 “Well, actually, the bones were dislocated antemortem.,” Cross corrected. Her attention quickly advertised the two men wheeling in the next victim. “Oh,” she gasped excitedly. “Goody, overtime.” 

 “Can you check to see if the bones were dislocated in the same way?” Spencer asked her as she walked over to the next victim.

 She pulled the sheet back on the victim. Her hands reached for his arm to check the dislocation. “Yep, the same way.” She removed her hands from the body then crossed them. “This guy’s sicker than my last girlfriend.” 

 Rossi turned to look at Spencer. “The question is, why is he doing this?”

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

 Y/N sat with Penelope in her office still, she wasn’t really planning on leaving though, since the rest of the team was away. She held one of Penelope’s many figurines in her hand, this one was a small unicorn that squished. While it was very childish, Y/N couldn’t help but be entranced by the object. 

 “Oh yay, we have a call,” Penelope said as she answered the phone. “Garcia and Wonder woman at your service.” 

 “Can you find anyone in the area that might sell or rent medieval torture equipment?” Hotch asked, getting straight to the point as usual. 

 “Besides a friend of mine in a knitting group?” Penelope asked jokingly.

 “Try S&M suppliers, we’re looking for a stretching rack,” Rossi elaborated. 

 “Spanking the keys as we speak,” Penelope began typing. 

 “Ew,” Y/N said in disgust with Penelope’s phrase.

 “Don’t worry they like it,” Penelope reassured her. “Okay, I have cross-checked stretching equipment with S&M equipment and I found something that stretches something…”

 “I don’t think this is something that we’re looking for,” Y/N said as she looked at the photo. Her head turned at the item in confusion. “How does that even work?” 

 “Maybe he made his own,” Spencer’s voice was heard as he came up with the new idea. 

 “That would be pretty elaborate,” Rossi remarked.

 “Okay, me and Y/N will keep looking, we’ll get back to you soon,” Penelope said, her pen hovering over the hang-up button. 

 “Hang on Garcia,” Hotch stopped her from hanging up. “Y/N when did you get back?” 

 “Couple hours ago sir, I caught an earlier flight home,” Y/N responded. She hoped Hotch wouldn’t say anything about her being back earlier, she knew Spencer would call her later about it though. 

 “Alright, hit us back when you get something.”

 “Will do,” Y/N said and then Penelope hung up. 

-

 “I thought you said she wasn’t coming back until tomorrow?” Hotch looked at Spencer. 

 “I thought so too,” Spencer replied, having no clue that she was home early. 

 “I just went to the latest abductee’s home,” Derek said as he walked up to the three standing in the conference room. “Not only did our unsub use fake blood in some kind of ruse, but the front porch security cameras were also disconnected right before the abduction.”

 “So he cased the site,” Rossi observed from the information Derek had given. 

 “Well, it’s residential streets-- a lot of people coming and going, that’s high-risk behavior,” Derek mentioned.

 “Yeah, the unsub didn’t care. He needed him and it was worth the risk,” Hotch added. 

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

 Spencer peeled the tissue paper inside the box they found back. It’s light airy pink color contrasted with the dark horror inside. 

 “The box is wrapped this time,” Spencer said as he looked at balled up tissue paper. 

 “What is this, a gift?” Detective Marks asked. 

 Spencer pulled back some of the tissue paper from the top. He pulled back about four pieces before the face of the latest victim was revealed. The man that had been taken the day before. 

 “His natural hair color is black and still he kills him,” Hotch remarked as Spencer pulled more pieces of paper away. “And, look, no neck wounds.” 

 “Then how did he die?” Marks asked. 

 “Maybe he bled out,” Hotch suggested.

 “Or he fell from something,” Spencer argued as he examined the body more. “Look at his hands. He bored holes through the hands that ripped, and then he moved them to the wrist.” 

 “Reid, check the feet,” Hotch ordered, getting a hunch on what it could be. 

 Spencer pulled the victim’s shoe back, seeing the same type of hole. 

 “Stigmata?” Spencer asked as he had a theory forming. 

 “Hanging and then crucifixion,” Hotch explained the meaning of the word for the detective. 

 “So this has to do with religious beliefs,” Marks said. 

 “Maybe he just found a new way to torture them?” Spencer suggested. 

 “And still he’s keeping Connie. Something about her is working,” Hotch said.  

 Spencer’s eyes kept on the body. He went over every detail in his head, comparing it with the other bodies. Then he came up with a hit. 

 “Hotch look-” Spencer pointed to the jeans on the victim- “These are the exact same jeans that victim number two was wearing. Look at the trim.” 

 Spencer reached his hand into the box, pulling on the color of the shirt the victim had on. When he pulled it around enough, he could clearly read the tag. “Bonner Brothers. Is that a local store?” 

 “About five miles, half thrift store, half yuppie mart,” Marks answered.

 “I’ll have JJ and Morgan check it out after we give the profile,” Hotch said. 

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

 “Okay, so we’re looking for a white male, at least thirty due to the sophistication of the crimes,” Y/N began to deliver the profile to Penelope. She sat in the swivel chair behind her, her head leaning on its back. She held a pink pen in her hand as she twiddled with it to keep her somewhat entertained. 

 “He’s torturing his victims. From what I’ve discussed with the team, he’s trying to perfect a delusion, which he’s failed. Three times.”

 Penelope sat, her hands laying on her thighs as she listened intently to the profile. She only usually got a small paper description to help her search parameters, so it was really cool for her to see a profiler at work.

 “With most delusions like this, the reality never lives up to the unsubs expectation.” 

 “That is the truth with anything though,” Penelope commented on Y/N’s last statement. 

 “Yeah, anyway, his fantasy involves the torture and stretching-”

 “Okay, you can skip that part, my perfect, pure, and gore free office space doesn’t need that,” Penelope said, holding up her hands to stop Y/N and her face contorting in disgust. 

 “Okay,” Y/N laughed before she continued. “Before he kills them, the unsub fixes their hair and paints their nails. The last victim he escalated to crucifying him, I’ll spare you the details of that. Crucifixion was used for serious crimes, so the unsub probably believes that his victims have wronged him.”  

 Y/N sat back in her chair, making it spin in circles as she kept thinking. “Something isn’t working though in his fantasy, because he keeps discarding the men…”

 Y/N stopped the chair and grabbed the tablet off the table beside her. She pulled up the picture of the latest victim in the box. “He kills them, then ritualistically places them in a box with tissue paper, which is weird.” 

 “Why is it weird?” Penelope asked, on the edge of her seat like Y/N was reading her some sort of novel and was reaching the climax. 

 “Well his initial behavior dehumanizes them, so it means his victims he values more when they’re dead,” Y/N answered. She looked back down at the photos again. “But if he's keeping Connie, does that mean she’s dead and he is doing ungodly things that I shouldn’t even think of, or is she still alive?” 

 Penelope looked at Y/N with a puzzled look on her face, not knowing the answer to her questions.

 “I was asking myself, Pen,” Y/N eased Penelope’s thoughts.

 “Oh good.” 

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

 After the team delivered the profile, Spencer had moved back to a quiet room to work in. Well, he wasn’t really focused on his work, he was worrying about proposing to Y/N. 

 All-day, the team had noticed his behavior. Of course, they would, they’re profilers. Spencer’s odd behavior on the plane, his constant whispering under his breath, and his nervous breaths.

  Blake took extra notice of this though, she had formed some sort of motherly bond with Spencer. And Spencer was glad to have it, she was someone he could relate to intellectually also so it was nice to have her to talk to. 

 Spencer sat in a small office, writing on some paper to help with his geo-profile. He was trying to narrow it down to an area where the unsub might be keeping his victims. He was hard at work, but his mind kept going back to Y/N. 

 She was all he could think about. His nerves from proposing, going over every possible way the evening could go. He couldn’t help himself but feel nervous. 

 “There you are,” Blake said as she saw Spencer in the room. “How's the geographical profiling going? And why are you doing it here?”

 “It’s going good. I’m just having trouble concentrating out there, is all, so I came in here.” Spencer gestured vaguely with his pencil around the room. He quickly looked back down to the map and continued to work. 

 “Hmm,” Blake hummed. “So what’s with you today?”

 “Hm,” Spencer said, not understanding what she meant. 

 “Is this about the black box in your bag?” 

 Spencer opened and closed her mouth, he really hadn’t told anyone about his plan to propose. Only JJ and Penelope. JJ because she’s his best friend and Penelope because she could help him find out what Y/N would like and she was also really close to him. “She asked me the other morning, for when she gets back, to go to dinner. And I-I decided that’s when I decided I’m going to do it.”

 “Awe, Reid,” Blake gushed. “She’s going to say yes, you know.”

 “I know, it’s just, she’s the most beautiful girl in the world to me, and I don’t want to mess it up,” Spencer confessed. “But what if she says no? What if she doesn’t want to marry me?” 

 “Spencer,” Blake scorned and then took a seat in the chair across from Spencer. “Why wouldn’t she say yes?”

 “Because I’m weird,” Spencer said. “I slouch, my hairs to long, she always has to fix my perpetually crooked tie-” 

 “Your hair’s fine.”

 “Really? Thanks, my mom thinks it’s too long and so does my Aunt Ethel,” Spencer admitted. 

 “Well, you’re not about to propose to them,” Blake laughed. 

 “I just don't want to ruin something so special, over something so trivial as looks.” Spencer was showing how insecure he was and it truly broke Blake’s heart. “She’s beautiful, Alex, she’s all I could ever ask for, inside and out. Her smile is contagious, her heart is so big, and her eyes sparkle.” 

 “Spencer, I think you’re excited but afraid,” Blake told him.

 Spencer nodded, agreeing with her.  

“But I have only known you two together for four months now, and the way she looks at you, with such love and adoration. Tells me she’s going to say yes,” Blakes gave him a serious face.  

 Spencer gave a half-smile, her words comforted him.

 “So don’t second guess yourself, just do it, because she is not going to say no,” Blake gave him one last word of encouragement.  

 “We’ll see.”

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

 “You know what’s crazy,” Y/N blurted into the quiet space of her and Penelope. 

 “What’s crazy?” 

 “The way that these victims were tortured. The dislocation seems so...moving? Like he wants to control them.” Y/N looked at the M.E. report. The dislocation just seemed odd and yet so familiar. 

 “Movement, control, crucifixion…” Y/N was muttering these words under her breath as she continued to think why she knew this case. It seemed like something she read before. A book? No. A Reddit scary story? Possibly. An old case? 

 “Penelope there was a case, uh around 2010 I think, I can’t remember the unsubs name but it had something to do with a woman drugging her victims and...oh and she dressed them up,” Y/N listed off what she could remember from the case file she read before she joined the BAU.

 “I think I remember that one, but let me look it up just to be sure.” Penelope began to type on her computer quickly and look up the case. “Here it is, Savannah Malcolm, thirty-two at the time of her arrest. She kidnapped and drugged women to look like a line of dolls due to a frontal lobe problem from electro-shock therapy prescribed by her father, who was a serial molester.”

 “Okay, the doll thing that’s what I’m looking for.” Y/N pulled her phone out and quickly scrolled to Spencer’s number. 

-

 “The M.E. just called, not only were ligature marks on victim three’s arms, but his jaw was dislocated as well,” Rossi said to Hotch after he hung up the phone. 

 “His jaw?” Spencer asked as he and Blake approached the two men. 

 “Why would you hang someone, dislocate their joints and their jaw, and then crucify them?” Hotch’s confusion was received all around by the group. 

 Spencer was thinking, long and hard. His eyes became focused on a Newton’s Cradle that sat on a deputy's desk. The wheels in his brain turned and he was so close to connecting them but he couldn’t find the last little bit. 

 “I can see your wheels turning, don't hold back,” Rossi said, bringing Spencer out of his head.

 “Maybe he’s dislocating their body parts so that he can manipulate them himself,” Spencer said, explaining to them what he was thinking. 

 As soon as Blake was about to ask a question, Spencer’s phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his back pocket and saw Y/N’s name light up the screen. 

 “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” Spencer said when he answered his phone. 

 “Spence put me on speaker.” 

 “Okay, one sec.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and did as she told him. “You’re on speaker.” 

 “Savannah Malcolm,” Y/N said, confusing everyone in the room. 

 “What about her?” Hotch said as he recognized the name. 

 “She was a collector, she kidnapped women so that she could be a part of her doll collection she was missing. What if this guy has something like that, a male and female set of dolls, stuffed animals, even I don’t-”

 “Marionettes.” Spencer cut her off thinking the same thing she was. 

 “Yes! I know it’s crazy but-” 

 “No, no I see it,” Spencer agreed with her but when he looked around he could see the confusion on the other’s faces. “Think about it for a second. If you add the dislocation, the holes in the hands, the strange clothing, and the odd makeup, it sounds crazy, but our unsub could be turning our victims into human marionettes.” 

 “That makes sense, and it’s the best lead,” Rossi agreed, looking to Hotch who had a posing look on his face. 

 “The Greeks translated ‘puppets’ as ‘neurospasta’, which literally means string-pulling,” Spencer said as he gave more insight on the marionette theory. 

 “Oh and throughout time they’ve been used as a method to tell kings a story so the subjects didn’t have to speak to him directly,” Y/N piped in since she had some knowledge of the matter.

 Penelope looked over at her from her chair, a confused look on her face. 

 “What? I like history,” Y/N defended herself. 

 “She’s right,” Spencer said, a small sense of pride forming in his chest. 

 “It was a way to hear the truth,” Rossi said as he was taking in the information. 

 “It seems like this unsub is doing something similar. Using his puppets to tell his story,” Hotch added. 

 “He can’t be controlling them by hand,” Blake said as she thought about how the unsub would control two humans. 

 “No, he probably built some sort of contraption,” Hotch agreed. 

 “And he’s trying to lift his victims,” Spencer added.

 “That could explain why he discarded the men,” Rossi said as he looked at the victims’ charts. “They were too heavy.” 

 “Wait, Rossi what do you see?” Y/N asked, pushing her chair back so she could grab the copies of the victims’ charts she had. 

 “Well, I’m checking the licenses of our victims, and each weighed less than the previous one,” Rossi noted as he picked up each one to compare the weights. 

 “You know, if he’s making human marionettes, that also explains why he’s stuffing his victims into boxes,” Spencer said, his eyes bouncing between the three around him. “It’s like a sick toy chest.” 

 “So he is dehumanizing them,” Y/N noted.

 “But he’s not killing them, he’s turning them into his playthings,” Hotch said. 

 The four at the station turned as they heard steps approaching. 

 “A father and son were just abducted from a parking lot at gunpoint,” Detective Marks said when he reached them. “A witness saw a man force them into a car.” 

 “Dave, you and Blake go check it out,” Hotch ordered. “Garcia, you there.” 

 “Yes, sir,” Penelope piped up to be heard over Y/N’s phone. 

 “I need you to start looking for theater owners and puppeteers in the area,” Hotch said. 

 “Will do sir,” Penelope responded. 

 “We’ll hit you back with some results,” Y/N added and went to hang up the phone. 

 “Hey, Y/N wait,” Spencer said, pulling her off of speaker and putting his phone to his ear. 

 “Yeah, Spence,” she responded, doing the same as him. 

 “We're still on for dinner when I get back?” 

 “Of course, I already made the reservation.” 

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

 “Okay there are five puppeteers/marionetters in the area,” Penelope said quickly, seeing as there were two new victims.

 “Any recently released from prison?” Hotch asked. 

 Penelope quickly typed into the search engine and got no results. 

 “No,” Y/N answered when she read the screen. 

 “Yeah, they’re all working kids’ parties and at hospitals,” Penelope added. 

 “What about someone who had a traumatic incident with a brunette girl?” Spencer gave a new set of parameters. 

 “That’s kind of specific,” Penelope muttered as she began to type. While she was typing, she got a call from JJ and Derek. “Hold on let me patch in JJ and Morgan.” 

 “Hey, we’re at the clothing store,” Derek’s voice said over the phone. “And we got the names of five people who left numerous messages for Tucker this week.”

 “Give them to me and Wonder Woman,” Penelope said, hands at the ready to work her magic. 

 “Alright, we got Sam Holby, Terrence Crammer, Vincent Lang, Matt Parker, and Jill Olger,” Derek said, reading off the names he found.

 Penelope typed swiftly on her keys, doing cross-checks with all the things she’s been given so far. “And no, and I’m cross-checking those with Hotch’s list of puppeteers. And no.” 

 “So I’ve got eight more names, some written on pads in the back, others are frequent customers,” JJ’s voice was heard next. 

 “All right,” Derek said to JJ. “Penelope we need you and Y/N to trace the phone lines here, too, see if this guy Tucker called the unsub today.”

-----------

 “How’s your vegetarian pad thai?” Y/N asked as she gathered more of her own food in her chopsticks. 

 “Amazing,” Penelope took another bite of her food. The phone began to ring. Penelope used the ends of her chopsticks to answer. 

 “Garcia,” Hotch’s voice was heard through the phone. 

 “Yes, sir,” Penelope answered, swallowing her food.

 “Were there any incidents involving a father and son in the puppeteers’ histories that you found?”  

  Penelope set down her box of noodles and began to type on her computer. “Father and son. Okay, no, it’s coming up empty.”

 “What about twenty or thirty years ago?” Rossi’s voice asked. 

 At the new parameters, Penelope got a hit. “Well, there was a pretty famous puppeteer in the late fifties, named Alex Rain.”

 “He died in a robbery,” Y/N read from the article on the screen. 

 “Yeah, his son witnessed it.” 

 “What was the son’s name?” Blake asked. 

 “Adam Rain, mom died ten years ago,” Penelope answered.

 “Cross-check Adam’s name with the names of the patrons in the clothing store,” Spencer ordered. 

 Penelope began to type again and a huge list of callers appeared on the screen. “Oh, I got a big ‘ole hit. Okay, so Mr. Rain called Tucker, the owner, forty times in the last month.”

 “Damn, I don’t think I even call my mom that much,” Y/N commented, taking another bite of her food. 

 “Yeah, check this-- his father was most well-known for a pair of puppets named Mitch and Steph, the male one had dark black hair, the female was a redhead.” The picture of the two puppets was on the screen as Penelope began to describe their features. 

 “And they’re creepy,” Y/N sang as her eyes widened at the picture. 

 “Do you have an address?” Rossi asked. 

 “Last known was a building on Pine Street, that used to be his father’s theater,” Penelope said as the information on Adam Rain came up on the screen. 

 “And guess what he drives,” Y/N said. 

 “A blue van, call us back in the car,” Hotch’s voice said as he began to walk out of the room. 

 When Penelope hung up the phone, the sound of her door opening startled them. Y/N instinctively reached for her gun on her belt and Penelope jumped. Walking into the room was Erin Strauss, her normal pristine self. 

 “Agent Y/L/N, may I speak with you in my office please,” Strauss said. 

 It wasn’t a question, it was an order. Y/N nodded and stood up from her chair. “I’ll be back,” she said to Penelope who just nodded absently, not sure what was going on. 

 When Strauss entered her office, Y/N followed a few paces behind her. She was very confused about what was happening at the moment. Strauss knew they were on a case and she wouldn’t pull her away unless it was important. 

 “Have a seat.” Strauss gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. 

 Y/N slowly walked over to the seat on the left, nervous about what was happening. “Okay, I’m going to be blunt, ma’am, what’s going on?”

 “Well, I really didn’t want to do this,” Strauss began with a sigh. 

 Y/N’s mind jumped to the worse. “I’m not fired am I?” 

 “Oh no,” Strauss reassured her. She was a bitch, but Y/N was too good of an agent to fire due to budget cuts. “When I asked you to move to fugitive task force, I was hoping you would say yes so we could use that as your cover.” 

 “My cover? For what?” 

 “A couple of months ago, there was a letter left here, it told about how someone in the FBI was being watched,” Strauss began to explain. “The Director and I wrote it off as a simple ‘trying to scare’ type thing. It wasn’t until later that we realized that wasn’t the case. We received another note, with very specific detail about how someone wanted to hurt not just this one person in the FBI, but their whole team.” 

 “Do you think this has to do with Caroline?” Y/N asked, curious if that was a road Strauss had traveled down and looked into. 

 “We looked into it, it’s not.” 

 Y/N let out a sigh of relief, glad she didn’t have to deal with her again. 

 “This unsub has been stalking a member of your team, the last letter we received was about someone in the BAU.” Strauss handed the letter to Y/N in its evidence bag.

 Y/N took the letter from her hand, looking over the neat handwriting. “Well, by the handwriting I can tell this is probably a female.” 

 “Yes, I also thought that. There’s one other thing, if you notice in the letter, she mentions everyone on the team except you.” 

 Y/N looked closely at the letter, reading over everyone’s name except hers. “Do you think I am the one she’s after.” 

 Great, not again, Y/N thought to herself. 

 “Well, that was my initial thought, but then we got a break,” Strauss said. “We found out that these letters were coming from a student who attends George Town, due to a series of mysterious suicides that we believe are connected to this. George Town is a school we frequently have guest speakers at, especially from the BAU.”  

 Now Y/N was beginning to catch on. “Except me, I have never guest spoken.” 

 “Yes. We are assuming this unsub has only done research on those who have spoken at the school. This is where you come in. I would like you to go undercover as a girl’s advisor to get some insight and hopefully find out who this unsub is.” 

 Y/N looked at Strauss with wide, surprised eyes. “Oh-uh-okay, is this a ‘you can if you want to?’ or a ‘this is what you’re doing now’ thing.”

 “A little of both, but I believe you are the best hope of finding out who this is with little to no injury involved.” 

 “How long would I be undercover for?” 

 “Depends on what you find and how close you’re getting.” Strauss leaned on her desk, seeing that Y/N’s last question prompted that she was interested.

 “Okay, and will I have contact with my team?” 

 The sigh Strauss let out was not giving to Y/N’s hope. “This is the part where I believe you were going to say no. You would start tonight if you say yes, you would get some things from your home, leave your cell phone with me, I give you a new one and you will have no contact with your team unless absolutely necessary for an extended period of time.” 

 “What determines this extended period of time?” 

 “Your findings within the first month.” 

 “So at least a month.” Y/N knew she had to do this, after everything the team did to help her with Caroline, she couldn’t let this unsub get to them. But what about Spencer, or JJ, or Penelope? This was a hard decision she had to make, but she knew she’d be back. 

 “Okay, I’ll do it. But on one condition.” 

--------------  

 Adam Rain had been caught. He had been in a coma for a long time due to a car accident. He had a Peter Pan syndrome where he woke up as a young boy again. 

 Spencer was bouncing on his toes. After his talk with Blake, he had found a new sense of confidence for the evening and he couldn’t wait to pop the question. He had the ring out the whole flight home, the box in his hands and absent mindedly played with it. He opened the box, admiring the ring he looked for for so long. It was simple, a thin gold band that had three small diamonds in a line on the top of the ring. It was perfect and he was so excited to give it to her. 

 The team arrived at Quantico that evening. Tired from the long case and excited to get home.  

 “Hey guys,” Penelope greeted everyone when they walked in the door. 

 “Hey Baby girl,” Derek greeted her, giving her a hug. When he pulled away he looked behind her and then back at her. “Where’s Wonder Woman?” 

 “I have no clue, I was hoping Boy Wonder knew because Strauss called her into her office earlier and I haven’t seen her since,” Penelope explained. 

 Spencer walked up to the two when he heard his nickname. “She hasn’t talked to me since we last called you.” 

 The three were now worried and confused, no knowledge of where Y/N was.

 “I can answer that for you,” Strauss’ voice was heard as she walked into the room. Her announcement gained everyone on the team’s attention. “Agent Y/L/N has been assigned to an undercover assignment by me, starting right after the meeting we had earlier today.” 

 The team stood shocked, some with wide eyes and others with slack jaws.

 “I’m sorry, what?” JJ asked strongly.

 “The case is strictly need to know, but she wanted me to tell you that is where she was so you wouldn’t have to worry about her running off or having you think she left you.” The last part of her announcement was directed to Spencer, who Y/N knew would need to hear that until he got home. 

 “Erin,” Rossi said, anger and annoyance rising in him. 

 “Dave, the decision has been made, she was the best person for this job. You will have no contact with her unless extremely necessary for at least one month-” Strauss held up her pointer finger- “She told me to tell you that this was an extremely hard decision for her to make but she needed to do it to protect lives.” 

 With that, Strauss gave a curt nod to Hotch and started to walk to his office. Hotch followed, his walk angry as she had pulled someone from his team without telling him first. 

 “Reid,” Penelope said when she looked over to the man in shock. 

 He stood still, mouth closed and eyes pricking with tears he wouldn’t let fall. The ring in his pocket felt heavy now, like it carried all the weight of the world that just left him. 

 “Spence,” JJ reached her hand to touch his shoulder. 

 Spencer jerked at the touch and began to walk away. “I need to get home.” 

 His whole trip home, his hope was that what had just happened was just some fever dream. It was all fake from his nerves over the past couple of days and he’d get home and she’s been on the couch waiting for him.   

 But when he walked in the door, he was met with a quiet empty apartment. He let out a breath. It sounded like a scoff almost, and then he wanted to start laughing. Because this was fucking hilarious and crazy.  

 This was crazy, Y/N was gone. 

 When he closed the door and flipped the light switch, the corner of his eye caught a glimmer. His head jerked in the direction of the sparkle. 

 Sitting on the table was a white sheet of paper, folded in half and ‘Spencer’ scrawled on the front of it. Beside it sat the gold band Y/N had gotten him. 

 Slowly, Spencer dropped his bags by the door and walked over the letter. He picked up the letter, not daring to touch the gold band that sat beside it. 

 “Dear Spencer: My love, my sweet angel, my bub, I know you’re very confused right now, I am too. As Strauss told you, I was pulled away on an undercover mission. Sadly I cannot tell you what this is about due to the fact I am liable not to and technically I wasn’t even supposed to write this letter to you but you know me, I couldn’t leave without leaving something for you.” 

 Spencer laughed, a small tear he let escape running down his face. Of course, Y/N wouldn’t leave without giving him a goodbye somehow.

 “I know it isn’t fair that I am leaving you a letter, and trust me I didn’t want to leave you one. You’ve been left too many from people leaving you-- Gideon, your dad. But here’s the one thing that’s different, I am coming back. After this is all over I will be back.” 

 Spencer’s lip quivered, not letting any tears be held back anymore. 

 “Tell the team that I love them and I’m sorry that I had to leave like this. I know they were all probably shocked and some were probably angry. Hell, I would understand if you were angry. I would be.” 

 Spencer was angry. He was angry that she was chosen for this, that she had to leave. 

 “So you’re probably wondering, ‘why is there a ring here?’. Well, tonight I was going to propose to you, and it was going to be so great. Penelope and I have been discussing it all day on my speech, the delivery, the whole nine yards. But I guess that won’t happen now, but if you want to hear about it then ask her, she’ll tell you.” 

 Spencer looked down at the ring. The simple gold band sat there and was screaming at him to pick it up. Like if he wore it, Y/N would be right beside him. 

 “I don’t know if you’ll wear it, but I left it as a promise to you. So you’ll know I’ll be back to marry you soon. That this is just a bump in our story, and the rest of if we will spend together.” 

 Spencer danced the ring between his thumb and index finger. He looked at it all around, noticing their initials on the inside. He smiled at them, making his heart soar at how thoughtful she was. 

 “So, technically I am not supposed to do this, but I can’t stand the thought of not being able to talk to you for a month. I’ve thought about the safest way to do this. It’s the same way I’d talk to London in college when Caroline was...anyway. At the end of this letter is the number of the cell Strauss gave me, it’s in code but I know you’ll figure it out quickly. I want you to go to a payphone, call the number, let it ring twice, hang up, and then wait for me to call back. It’s safe and we can only do it maybe three times a week just to be cautious.” 

 Spencer made extra sure to remember each step, already excited to use it so he could talk to her. 

 “I have to go now, Spence. I love you more than anything you’ll ever know. I found a quote that is fitting for when I was going to propose, so I’ll just leave it here: Thomas Merton once wrote, ‘Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone, we find it with another.’  See you soon, Y/N.” 

 At the end of the letter was the code for the number. It was easy for Spencer to decipher, he didn’t even need to write anything down. He took a mental note of the number and was ready to use it first thing in the morning. 

 He then looked back at the ring. He had set it back down at some point and picked it back up again. It sat in the palm of his hand. 

 He was almost scared to put it on now. Then he thought about her words, it’s a promise I’ll be back. With slow, cautious movements, Spencer slipped the band on his ring finger. The ring felt at home there and he had no plans of taking it off.  

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[hashtagartistlife]

Maybe fate was called fate because some things weren’t choices; some things were simply written into his DNA, woven into the very fabric of the universe. World orders. The sky is blue. The sun is hot. He is in love with Kuchiki Rukia.

Kuchiki Rukia is dying.  

Ten years after the defeat of Yhwach, it’s time Ichigo and Rukia started facing some truths— about the world, about themselves, and about each other. 

this is all i have of this fic for now (this and a tiny little bit of chapter 3), i guess it’ll be updated when i woman the fuck up and wrack up enough nerves to keep writing which im hoping will be sometime this decade :’/ but i might post chapters i have for other unfinished fics i have over the next few days so if you’re into unfinished fics (read: literally nobody) then stick around!!! 

premise for this fic | chapter 1 here | this is chapter 2

________________________________________________________________

f r a y

by hashtagartistlife

________________________________________________________________

Two 

.

.

.

9:12 am 

Kurosaki Clinic

When Renji wakes up the next morning to find Rukia safely asleep beside him, he feels the tension across his shoulders ease somewhat. They’d both been a little worried about how her sleepwalking habit might fit into this visit (even though neither of them had voiced their concerns out loud), he more so than she for reasons he had yet to disclose to her. Her breathy sigh of ‘Ichigo?’ rings in his ears. He hadn’t seen a point in telling Rukia about that, not when she was still refusing to admit she had a problem in the first place. She’d just feel needlessly guilty and isolate herself even more. Renji knows how Rukia works. What he doesn’t know is how to break through that shell she builds around herself, how to draw her out of it and get her to face her problems head-on. 

No, he admits (and he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a trace of bitterness in the way he thought it), that’s always been Ichigo’s specialty. He looks across the rowdy breakfast table to his friend, who is sitting uncharacteristically silent with a mug of something dark and unappetising in his hands. His eyes are shadowed, tired, and when he meets Renji’s gaze he starts almost guiltily before curving his lips into an uneasy smile. 

The hell’s all that about? Renji thinks, but then Ichika slams into his knee, shoving a glass of orange juice into his face, and he puts the moment out of his mind. The rest of the morning is filled with trying out some godawful beverage called ‘coffee’ at Orihime’s behest, wrangling Ichika into human world clothes, and sending the children off, along with their mothers, to go meet Sado. He and Ichigo stay back, Ichigo to tend to his clinic and he to go see Urahara. Since gensei visits were so few and far between, even on what was ostensibly a holiday they had been saddled with checking in on the shopkeeper to exchange news and technology. Renji figures he might as well get that out of the way first, and catch up with Sado later. 

At least, he figures that until Ichigo corners him just before he walks out the door, a dark expression on his face. He looks uncomfortable, standing in the doorway of his own house, a hand on the back of his neck, and Renji notes with a kind of detached surprise that if Ichigo hadn’t been slumping, they’d be more or less at a height now. He raises an eyebrow at him in a silent question. 

“A— about Rukia—” Ichigo stumbles over the syllables in her name, and stops, wetting his lips, looking nervous. A sense of foreboding settles into Renji’s gut; Ichigo hasn’t looked this worried in— well, a decade. He stays quiet, letting Ichigo finish his question. “Has she ever— has she ever sleepwalked before?”

He freezes in his tracks; frantically, Renji rewinds last night in his mind. It’s no use; he’d been out for the count for a solid eight hours. If he hadn’t been so tired lately, he’d have thought someone had spiked his drink. Try as he might, he can’t remember Rukia slipping out of bed at all. But she’d been back in bed by the morning, so someone must have intercepted her—

Ichigo. Rukia’s voice, ghostly in his mind, calling his name. Ichigo. Ichigo. Ichigo—

His breath leaves him in a long, long sigh, and Renji closes his eyes before gesturing for Ichigo to sit. 

. 

.

.

6:53 am

Ichigo doesn’t go back to his bed after the kiss. Instead he sits outside the clinic, on the cold hard asphalt, for one eternity— two— til the sun starts lightening the end of the street and the moon grows paler in the sky. He can still feel Rukia on his skin, in his veins, lingering like a drug that refuses to clear. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be empty of her touch now that he’s known it. 

When the moon finally disappears and the sun well and truly risen, he picks himself up from the ground and stumbles back into the house, feeling like he was the sleepwalker now. The sight of their children sprawled out together in their blanket fort brings the reality of what he’s done rushing back to him. He can’t help the reflex that brings his fingers up to ghost over his lips, like a lovesick teenager. The breath leaves his lungs like he’s been punched, and he turns away from the kids, sleeping angelically side-by-side. He can’t bear the thought of facing either of them, of facing anyone in this household any more. 

What does he do now? Does he go back to bed, pretend nothing ever happened— slip into his place beside Orihime and forget the fact that his heart is beating again for the first time in ten years? Does he come clean to her and beg forgiveness, tell her he loves her and it won’t ever happen again, or does he lock this away in a dark recess of his mind, just like he’s done with his shinigami powers and everything related to her for the last decade? His mind casts around frantically for excuses — he was tired. It was the middle of the night. Hell, he doesn’t even know if it really happened anymore — was everything a fever dream, triggered by the immense relief of seeing Rukia again? But his blood is thrumming in his veins, and the power he’d spent his entire adult life crushing down is once again swirling and eddying just under his skin, exactly like it had when he was seventeen. His hands are shaking, and his skin feels hot. He can’t lie to himself. Rukia was here. Rukia’d kissed him. He’d kissed her back. 

He drags his trembling hands over his eyes, down his face; slumps into a chair in the kitchen and attempts to evade the question that becomes more pressing with every second. What now? It was clear that Rukia had no idea what had happened. The weight of this transgression was his alone to carry. Even if she had remembered, the fault lay with him— she’d been asleep, but he’d been wide awake and had pulled her towards him. 

A part of him— the good part, the noble part, the part that had once forced its way through layers of hollow to tell his zanpakutou to fuck off out of his fight with Byakuya— is yelling at him to confess, to lay himself at Orihime’s mercy and take whatever comes from it. But a larger, more insistent part of him is asking, for what? What does telling Orihime accomplish, but the breaking of four hearts? He has never deserved Orihime, with her soft smiles and kind words to his rough edges; the fact that he is, once again, an awful person to her— for her— is not news. What is the point of ruining her spun-sugar smile with something that will never happen again—

liar

—especially when it doesn’t just involve him? If he confesses, it’s not just his head on the line; it’s Rukia’s, too, no matter the fact that she was asleep at the time. And he might be willing to risk everything he ever is or was for far less than this, but there is no way in hell he will do that to Rukia. Not for some one-off sleepwalking incident that she had no control over, and if it happens again he’ll just push her away—

liar

— and oh, god, was this a thing that happened often? Rukia’d always been a deep sleeper; she was, despite everything she insisted to the contrary, very clearly not okay if she was sleepwalking like this. 

As his thoughts spiral back to the cause of his turmoil, Ichigo becomes acutely aware of her reiatsu upstairs, thrumming rapidly like a hummingbird’s wings. It seems lighter and more unsettled than he remembers it being, and the tinge of instability to it as it flares and retreats irregularly unnerves him. Rukia’s reiatsu control has always been top-class, so this distinct lack of it triggers alarm bells in his mind. He swallows, and attempts to smooth down the ragged edges of her power with his; but wherever his reiatsu brushes against hers, it just flares brighter and more powerful and he has to give up, lest it disturb Renji or the kids.

It's been a while since he's felt someone else’s reiatsu like this, but he knows this isn't normal; concern eats at him even as it wars with an urge to ignore it and bury everything about this incident as deep as possible. Rukia isn’t an idiot, she would have gotten help if it was something serious—but would she, really? He knows better than anyone how stubborn she can be when she thinks she’s being a burden. She’d die before she let someone else take the fall for her. 

He closes his eyes. 

He scowls; ten years it’s been, and she’s still so— so— so her. Longer hair, a husband and child, a Captain’s haori, and nothing matters; she’s still stubborn, still a bitch who lives to help everyone else but won’t let anyone help her. It's evident in the way she refuses to say she’s tired, the way that Renji’s eyes follow her around everywhere, worried. She’s still the self-sacrificing idiot she’d been from day one, and he—

He is still the coward he’d been twelve years ago, when he’d watched her bleed out on the concrete before him and only then been spurred into action. 

This isn’t about him. If Rukia is ill, then he has to let someone know— someone who can actually do something about it. His feelings — whatever they are— does not factor into the equation. This is about Rukia—

— so, he needs to talk to Renji. 

.

.

.

10:18 am

“Has Rukia ever sleepwalked before?”

A moment of tension across Renji’s features, and then a long, long sigh; he gestures for Ichigo to sit, and the two of them shuffle over to the recently vacated kitchen table. Renji rubs his face tiredly, and Ichigo’s sense of foreboding grows. 

“... Last night, huh?” Renji says, and Ichigo almost jumps out of his skin; did he know? Could he see— was the mark of Rukia's lips on his visible, indelible, the way it felt like to him? Could everyone read it on his face, that he and Rukia—

Renji’s voice is weary as he continues. “Yeah. Yeah, she's sleepwalked before. The past few years, actually. What did she do last night? How did you find her?”

— kissed—  “She— she walked out of the clinic and I heard the door open. Renji, is she— is she okay—”

Renji leans his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands. “I don't know,” he breathes, frustration dripping from every syllable. “I don't know, she won't tell me, you know how she is—”

Did he ever. Ichigo remembers with vivid clarity the time she'd sustained a stomach wound, back in the days before Soul Society; she hadn’t told him for three days, and had only agreed to go see Urahara when she'd finally collapsed in his arms. 

“ — don't think I've tried—? God, doctors, healers, we've tried everything, Kuchiki-Taichou’s worried out of his mind. But she won't have any of it, says she won't let us waste time fussing over her when there are better things to worry about—”

“That fucking idiot,” Ichigo mutters, and Renji barks out what is almost a laugh. 

“Right? Drives me up the fucking wall. Wouldn't be Rukia if she didn't.”

“Guess not.”

Renji cracks a strained smile before it fades away into seriousness again. “It wasn't this bad before,” he says, and Ichigo sits up straight. 

“Recent thing, then?”

“Depends what you'd classify as recent. I mean, she's never been a heavy sleeper—”

At this, Ichigo interrupts. “Wait, really? She's always slept like the dead—” 

Renji gives him a look, and Ichigo remembers who it is that is sharing her bed now. He shuts up. 

“ — as I said, she's never slept too well, even during our Rukon days, and it got pretty bad after the war, but it wasn't— wasn’t to this extent, you know? At least, not till she had Ichika. And then— it was like a switch flipped. She couldn't get to sleep at night, and she could barely keep her eyes open during the day. It started interfering with her work, and you know how that would have killed her; we started to go see a bunch of people for it but nothing seemed to help. And then she started sleepwalking—”

Something cold crawls up Ichigo’s spine.

“She— at first, we didn't know where it was that she was going in her sleep. she wandered the Kuchiki Manor gardens a lot, sometimes she just paced around inside the house. Sometimes she got out of the Kuchiki property and was well into the streets before we found her and brought her back. I didn't know where she was trying to go—” 

Renji breaks off, and looks Ichigo dead in the eye. 

“— till one morning I woke up, and found her at Sokyouku Hill.” 

Ichigo’s blood turns to ice. 

“It was bloody Sokyoku Hill, Ichigo. Every single time— inside the Manor, in the gardens, on the streets. She was always trying to get to Sokyouku Hill. North-north west from the Kuchiki Manor. I—”

Renji’s expression turns supplicating, as if asking him for an answer, but Ichigo has none to give; he’s rooted to the spot by the sheer horror he’s feeling, Rukia strung up against the Sokyouku vivid in his mind. That collar around her neck, a red slash splitting her throat open; her eyes, glazed over with tears. Her skin dyed orange and yellow from the heat of it all. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, Ichigo, for fuck’s sake I can’t even get her to admit that there’s something wrong. I just—” 

Renji drops his head into his hands. Very softly — so soft that Ichigo is sure he isn’t meant to hear these next words— he says to himself: 

“Ten years. Ten years, and I’m still not enough.” 

Ten years. Enough to fell mountains; enough to dry rivers and move oceans. 

Not enough to change a heart. 

When Renji looks up at Ichigo again, his gaze is edged with steel. 

“She says your name.” 

“I— what?” 

“She says your name, when she walks out to Sokyouku Hill. She says your name.” 

A memory, in his mind: Rukia, ethereal in the moonlight. Ichigo? 

Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. 

Ichigo doesn’t know what to say. 

Eventually, Renji breaks their impasse; he sighs and raps the table before getting up. “I’m not such a small man as to beat you to a pulp over that, Ichigo, stop looking like you think I’m going to bite your head off.” 

“I’m not—” he protests automatically, but Renji shushes him with a wave of his hand. 

“You are, but that’s not the point.” He ambles over to the door and looks over his shoulder at him, one hand poised on the handle. “If— if there’s anything you might be able to do for her—” 

“Renji—”

“Please,” Renji says, and even though this time, he isn’t on his knees half-dead before him, Ichigo knows what it’s costing him to make this request. “Please… help her.” 

Of course, Ichigo wants to reply, She’ll be fine, I’ll save her. Rukia’ll be safe—

But he isn’t fifteen anymore. 

“I’ll— try,” he says, lamely, and that is the best they can do. Renji nods. 

“Gonna go see Urahara. He might have some tricks up his sleeve,” he says, but he doesn’t look like he believes what he’s saying. Ichigo waves him off, and Renji slips away.

The sound of the clinic door swinging shut echoes in his wake. 

.

.

.

3:02 pm

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Click.

“...Hello?”

“Kurosaki-san?”

“...... Urahara-san?”

“Ah, Kurosaki-san, thank goodness you picked up. If you aren’t busy, I’d appreciate your presence at the Shoten as soon as possible.” 

“What? Me? Why?”

A pause; Ichigo finds, for no good reason whatsoever, that he is holding his breath.

“Ah, well. You see, that is—”

Between one accelerating heartbeat and the next—

“Kuchiki-san has collapsed.” 

[anarchistgumball]

Kirichako

I was going to get this to 2,000 words but im tired- No warnings necessary 

words: 1,856

Pairing: Kirishima x Uraraka 

This is in my bakukami AU to which the first part will be here

The first time he really noticed her was her fight with Bakugo. She was determined, strong, and had wits; there was no doubt about it, even if she did end up losing. Uraraka had earned Bakugo’s respect and Kirishima’s admiration that day. After that he started trying to hang around her more. Getting ice cream with her group and when Bakugo wasn’t around to help him, he studied with her. They had a stable, fun friendship and that was good enough for Kirishima.

Kirishima’s affection for Uraraka grew after graduation however, and he spent nights thinking of her. He was planning on confiding in Bakugo, his flatmate, but while the other respected Uraraka he probably wouldn’t understand Kirishima’s crush. So he told Mina, and Sero, and then Kaminari found out- telling Bakugo. Bakugo just snorted saying how Kirishima ‘wasn’t subtle’, while the rest were eager to play matchmaker. 

“Come on, ask her out!!” Mina said, shaking his arm. “Any girl would be lucky to have you anyways!” 

“Yeah, you’re like perfect boyfriend material, dude” Kaminari added. Kirishima went red and scratched at the back of his neck. “I dont know guys….”

“C’mon Kiri you’re like, perfect” While Sero meant it he also just kind of wanted to embarrass the other. Which he succeeded at. Kirishima was now hiding his face in his hands, but they could see him smiling. 

“Guuuuyyyss”

“What? You know its true” Mina poked his head.  “Go ask her out, what could go wrong?”

“Everything”

Mina sighed, and kissed him on the forehead. “Well I have to go but call me when you stop being a drama queen”

“I have to go with her but seriously dude, just go for it” Sero said getting up and following Mina. Kaminari smiled at him telling him “I agree” Then went to the table to start on paperwork.

He was patrolling with her today. Fuck. Normally this would be great news, patrolling with one of his friends? Awesome. But with the development of his feelings he didn’t trust himself to not say something dumb. The first fifteen minutes Uraraka chalked up to tiredness, though Kirishima usually woke up at ungodly hours… 

“You okay Kiri? Something up?” Kirishima yawned, okay tiredness then she guessed. 

“Just tired” He confirmed “Didn’t go to bed until like twelve am”

“Hm, did something keep you up?”

“Yeah, I guess my thoughts did” Kirishima wished he was less tired so he would know how to steer away from this conversation.

“Wanna talk about it?” They were rounding into an ally now and after Uraraka’s eyes swept over the area she looked up at him. She looked like she cared, Kirishima practically felt his insides melt. 

“You’re really pretty” Dammit. Abort, abort. That didn’t even relate to what she asked, maybe he was picking up on some of Kaminari’s dumbass since the other moved in. 

“Oh what? Uh Thank you, Kirishima.” She smiled slightly, and blushed profusely. Her fingers came up to twirl around each other, out of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t….” Mean it? He did for one thing and didnt want to come across as a dick. 

“Ah no, I just wasn’t expecting it is all, you’re pretty too….”  She internally cursed herself, while Kirishima tried to not faint. 

“Thank you!” His smile was bright, and his stance seemed taller, more confident than before. She wanted to see him like that more.

“She called me pretty, Bakugo! Pretty! Me!” Kirishima was practically gushing about Uraraka to anyone who would listen. Unfortunately for Bakugo he was home. He just snorted. Kaminari entered their flat while Kirishima was pouting in Bakugo’s general direction. He threw his keys on the accent table and headed over to them.

“What’s up?”

“Bakugo’s being mean” 

“Ah what the heck, Baku, how could you be mean to this puffball” He circled around the counters to playfully punch Bakugo on the arm. The tips of his ears flushed, something you wouldn’t notice unless you’ve spent years living with him and just as long listening to him talk wistfully about Kaminari. Kirishima stifled a laugh. 

The blond chopping vegetables just grumbled “Kirishima won’t stop fucking fawning over Round Face”

Kaminari turned to face him “So did something happen? Did you man up and ask her out?”

“No… but she called me pretty!” Kirishima was smiling again, head up in the clouds. Kaminari smiled, but looked sad? Shit. Kirishima should really think. His own grin dimmed seeing Kaminari. 

“Sorry, kami…. I wasn’t…”

“No, it’s fine dude, get your girl”

“I just-” He honestly didn’t know what to say for, like, the gazillionth time that day. Kaminari had just been cheated on and here he was flaunting how he might be getting somewhere with the girl he liked! Was he getting somewhere?

“I get it man, it’s not like you can control your feelings- the only reason i’d care is if you liked Jiro” 

Kirishima supposed he had wanted it to sound light and joking when it mostly just came off ... depressing.  Bakugo was silent, probably unknowing of how to help the situation and not really liking to talk about Kaminari’s feelings for Jiro. For more than one reason.

“Hey, Kirishima!!” Uraraka said, waving.

Kirishima looked up from his paperwork, which if he was being honest, he didn’t want to do. 

“Oh! Hey, Uraraka!” He smiled at her.

“I was wondering if you would want to go to the gym with me at some point? Deku has his schedule filled to the brim again” She laughed a little, shaking her head. The dude did need to take more breaks, even if he was the number one hero. 

“Uh, yeah, I would love to! What day works best for you? I’m open after five everyday this week, unless, y’know, an emergency.”

“Maybe Thursday? At 6:30?” She was twirling her hair around her finger. It was cute.

“Yeah, sounds great” He grinned at her and she brightened considerably, unless it was just him thinking that.

“Well I’ll let you get back to work now” He groaned.

“How could you leave me, Uraraka? I’m going to drown in this paperwork or die of boredom! Do you want me dead?” She giggled. 

“What if I did” She said playfully, he gasped, dramatically placing one of his hands against his chest. 

“You wound me” She laughed while walking out.

“I’ll see you later, Kiri!” 

It was Thursday, and he was on the phone with Mina. They were both freaking out over what Kirishima was going to wear to his “date”.  They were apparently too loud and an angry Bakugo joined them.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about?!” Bakugo, very appropriately, yelled. 

“What Kiri’s going to wear to his very, very important date with Uraraka!!” Mina said, speech semi garbled from the shirt covering Kirishima’s phone.

“Did he finally manage to fuckin’ ask her out?” Ignoring Kirishima to talk to Mina.

“No, but she asked him…. Well kind of…”

“The hell you mean?” 

“Well she asked to train with him, alone!”

“...Okay?”  Bakugo looked perplexed, brows furrowed. 

“Well she obviously wants to spend more time with him, so it’s basically a date”

Bakugo scoffed. Then he turned to Kirishima.

“She’s seen you in work out gear before, idiot, just wear something.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, Mina sighing loudly. 

“Ooooooh I have an actual good idea!” Mina said.

“Let’s here it” Kirishima was getting a little impatient, but still wanted to listen to his friends advice.

“You know that one gray tank top that shows off your ribs and shit? Wear that with like, your light pink gym shorts!”

“Yes! Mina thank you! I love you, but I need to go now”

“Okay, fill me in later!” 

The call ended and Bakugo got up and left, rolling his eyes. Once Kirishima was dressed in the outfit Mina picked he headed for the gym.

Kirishima was on the treadmill warming up when Uraraka arrived, she didn’t seem to notice him so he waved.

“Hey Uraraka, over here!” She noticed him, smiled and waved, walking over. She started stretch near where he was.

“So how was your day?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Boring, mostly. Paperwork and the like, but Mina took me out to lunch!”

“Oh awesome! Iida and Deku were both busy so i spent most of the day laying around” 

“Oh you should’ve said something, I can always make time for one of my bros!” Uraraka blushed, maybe. Maybe it was because she started running next to him. They ran for about twenty minutes, then did some other exercises. At almost the end she asked him if they could lift weights together. She laughed a little when explaining. “I thought you’d be the best because you know….” Kirishima cocked his head in confusion. She was definitely blushing now. “You’re just really strong and I thought you could maybe give me pointers?”

“Of course!” Kirishima flexed, always showing off when he had the chance. Compliments were always amazing, especially if they were from Uraraka. 

She had done thirty- five now struggling with the heavy barbell. Her whole face was red, Kirishima having to remind her to breathe multiple times, but determined. She lifted the bar over her head again with Kirishima encouraging her. She got to forty before she tried to put it back, Kirishima finally grabbing it and putting it back for her. She had her eyes closed, managing her breathing.

“That was amazing!”  She grinned at him, still laying down.

“My arms feel like noodles…. But I’m going to keep at it until I can beat you”

“Excuse me I am unbeatable, but seriously, that was manly as hell” He felt his ears burning wondering if he should’ve said something else. She sat up slowly.

“Thanks, for what it’s worth I think your manly as hell too” She stood, walked over to where he was and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She left saying ‘see you later’ grabbing her bag on the way out. Kirishima was frozen, probably looking like a tomato. 

He called Mina, squealing on the phone about what happened with her. The next day he realized he’d have to see Uraraka and almost screamed into his pillow, thinking of what he was going to say. What the hell was he going to say?

Was he glowing? He felt like he was glowing. Bakugo seemed to scowl at him but maybe that was because he kept him up almost have the night. Once he got to work (after being stopped by a villian attack) he saw Uraraka. She was talking to Iida and Shinso. He walked over to them, getting a coffee while saying hello to everyone. 

“I had fun last night Kiri” Shinso raised an eyebrow but Kirishima answered the question he didn’t actually say out loud. 

“Yeah, we should really work out again sometime…. But before that you wanna go out with me to this new restaurant?” He grinned, hopeful. 

“I would love too” He hugged her grinning, probably too much, waving at the other two before heading back to his office to excitedly text  Mina.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Through His Eyes - Part 4

Summary: Losing your sight after your accident was traumatic, and Jaebum’s guilt of knowing it should have been him instead creates an intricate bond between you both, as you overcome adversity and try to find your way in life again.

Genre: angst / romance

Characters: Im Jaebum x female reader

A/N: This story is emotional and raw compared to some of the content on my blog. It is in no way an attempt to glamourise or undervalue the lives of those who suffer from something similar. This story is purely fictional.

Through His Eyes will be posted every Tuesday at 10am NZST.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 [M] | 13 - FINAL

“I’m not sure I want to agree to this.”

“Mum, honestly I’ll be fine. You’re letting me attend university again next week, so this will be like a test run!” You grabbed onto her hand as if it would help her agree.

“How is going to JYP Entertainment for the day going to help you with your studies? You can’t even play a recorder, let alone sing.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” You pouted and felt your Mum pat your hand a moment later. You grinned and bounced a little in your chair. “JYP himself suggested it. That means they’ll take really good care of me. Just like Jaebum did when-”

“I’m still very unhappy he took you out without my permission that day. Lord knows what could have happened to you!”

“And we both said sorry for not letting you know, it was irresponsible of us. But this is official and planned and you know where I’ll be and-”

“Breathe Y/N, you sound like you’re going to hyperventilate. Is it really that important for you to go there?” You nodded your head up and down so fast that you felt a little faint when you stopped. The older woman sighed in defeat. “You’ll be home by eight tonight.”

“Eight?!”

“Eight,” she repeated firmly and you inwardly groaned, feeling twelve again. But knowing that still meant you would spend several hours out and with Jaebum brightened you back up again.

“Okay, I’ll promise I’ll be home before it turns seven fifty-nine!”

“Child, you still can twist me around your finger so well.”

“Thanks Mum!” You hugged her tightly and then pulled her up with you. Pressing a button on your watch and hearing the time was already getting closer to ten in the morning, you gasped and dragged her into your room.

“What is all this?!” She pulled away from you when you stopped and you turned to face her, hoping your expression would show your desperation. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to hang out with idols today!” You almost squealed, but refrained from setting off your disapproving Mother to your celebrity worshipping ways again. “I can’t just wear anything. I want to look pretty. Please help me.”

“Pretty for who?” she asked with a hint of amusement and you blushed, swatting at the air in embarrassment. “Let me find the ugliest dress you own then. Not one of them will need to eye my daughter in delight!”

“MUM!”

It was nerve-wracking riding in the car to JYP Entertainment, wishing Jaebum had been the one to pick you up. Mum was the same, and almost changed her mind, until Yong informed her of being the personal manager of GOT7. You knew him from several fan meetings and this eased some of your concerns, though he seemed awkward in your company. You should have been used to it by now; most people you came into contact with didn’t know how to treat someone so different as yourself. Even your friends had started to act as if your blindness changed you into something foreign and not relatable. You held onto the hope of being in Jaebum’s company quickly, knowing he was the only other one who treated you the same each time you were with him.

Yong signalled it was time to get out of the car once the vehicle stopped and he opened the door as you fumbled to get out, feeling instantly anxious as you couldn’t decipher where you were. You started to dread coming out today, and almost dove back into the vehicle. Instead, you flinched at the sudden touch of the manager, who apologised and then led you quietly into the building. The air changed and the greyscale world you lived in dulled once you were out of the sun. You could hear multiple voices, bustling around doing their duties within the company. Your hands broke out into a sweat as you entered an elevator.

“Where are we heading?” you asked quietly and Yong cleared his throat.

“Park Jinyoung CEO-nim wants to welcome your visit today. The members of GOT7 will be in their practice room, and our CEO-nim will take you to them himself.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Is that fine? Are you feeling alright?”

“It’s just a little confusing because I don’t know where I am. I’m fine though, thank you.”

“Not much further to go.”

Yong didn’t speak to you again until he knocked on a door and led you into what you presumed to be the office of the head of JYP Entertainment.

“Ah, you’re here. Hello Y/N!”

You bowed in greeting and hoped you were facing the right way. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“It is my pleasure. We have spoken to your Mother in the past, but I have yet to meet you in person, which is rude of me. Knowing that you now play an influential part in Jaebummie’s life, it’s important that I get to know you too. Shall I take you to their practice room now?”

You nodded lightly and held out your arm to signal needing assistance. The older man chuckled and then placed your hand on his lower arm, leading you to the next destination. Unlike Yong’s awkward behaviour, Park Jinyoung made a point to tell you of each place as you passed it on the journey and explained a little about what was happening around you. You relaxed in his care, feeling warm from the man’s active approach in chaperoning you.

You entered through another door, the music you had heard nearby now playing loudly around the room. It suddenly stopped and you tried turning your head in hopes it would point you in the right direction to Jaebum. You soon smelt one of his colognes and shifted, his arm extended out for you to grab onto. It was as if you both had your own little routine that you executed with ease and you relaxed completely once you had a hold of him.

“Wow hyung, that was crazy! How did you know to grab onto him Y/N, he hadn’t even said anything?!” Jackson uttered in amazement and you blushed lightly, not realising it might seem weird to others.

You heard the elder Jinyoung chuckle behind you and then felt him move closer. “They say people gain extra senses when another weakens off, Jackson. Y/N, I will leave you in the care of these boys. They are to work though, so I hope to hear of some progress on your upcoming comeback, understood?”

A chorus of voices replied positively and you bowed lightly in agreement. You heard the door close and then stood there awkwardly. After realising you were gripping onto Jaebum’s sleeve of his hoodie, you jumped off it, trying to ease yourself back to being calm.

“They won’t bite, come on let’s go sit down with them.” Jaebum led you over to a sofa and you sat down slowly, sensing the other members were all in front of you as well. Jaebum confirmed it as he kicked out a moment later. “Don’t crowd Y/N, it will unsettle her. She’s not an exhibition in a zoo!”

“Like we’d think that. Besides, we all know Y/N from being a fan for so long.”

You nodded at Mark’s statement and smiled shyly. This was harder than you had anticipated. You smoothed down your dress absent-mindedly and prayed Mum had been only joking when she helped you change earlier on.

“You look really pretty in blue, Y/N,” BamBam complimented from watching your actions, and you let out a breath in relief, knowing you only had one blue dress and it was one of your favourites. You were aware of Jaebum pressing against your side a little more than he had been, and you took up his invitation, leaning into him a little and trying to not sit so stiffly.

“So today we’re working on practising our new title track for our comeback. Jaebum actually wrote it,” Youngjae mentioned to break the silence again.

You giggled. “When doesn’t he write the title, he proudly told me about all his efforts on this album the other day on the phone. I personally like it when you all have a part in the song-making process too!”

“Y/N, I feel like we are meant to be friends.” You felt someone sit down beside you and tried to decipher if it was Jinyoung who had just spoken or not. Although they all had distinctive talking voices, you were overwhelmed and it was getting difficult not to feel insecure.

“Okay, this is going to sound really stupid but I’m a little overwhelmed right now,” you admitted, reaching deep inside yourself for confidence to assist your current situation. You took a shaky breath. “I need to feel your hands, is that okay?”

Suddenly the arm to the left of you was in your grasp and you jumped a little at the forwardness. “I’m first, but why our hands?”

“Because the one thing we use the most with our fans is our hands in fan meetings,” Jaebum explained and you nodded, gently feeling the hand within your grip.

You smiled lightly. “Yugyeom.”

“You knew that was him though, it was obvious,” Jinyoung mentioned and you smiled as another hand was given to you. “That’s not me.”

“I know, it’s Mark-oppa.”

“Ha, I’m oppa!” The man proudly declared. You blushed as you reached out for the next hand.

Jaebum sighed. “Y/N is a year younger than Jinyoung, Jackson and I.”

“Not going to lie, but this is really cool,” Jackson mentioned after you correctly guessed the other member’s hands. “I don’t want to be insensitive. Let’s address the elephant in the room though. We’re all aware you’re blind. But we didn’t quite know what to expect or how to treat you.”

“I’m still nervously excited around you all, I’m still a big fan of your music, and I’m still normal. I just need a little help.”

“Well you’ve got it for the rest of the day, how does that sound?” Jinyoung gripped your hand a little and you nodded, feeling another blush rise to the surface. The group became a little animated and you used your free hand to find Jaebum. It wasn’t long until his hand was in yours again and you silently thanked him for not even saying anything to your random need to keep checking he was there when you knew he was.

“I have a question before we go sing though,” BamBam mentioned above the noise and you angled your head towards where his voice came from. “We never have asked you this, even when we were last together.”

“We don’t need to go there,” Jaebum warned, gripping your hand more than he had been.

“What? All I wanted to know was who Y/N’s bias is out of us all.”

“Why ask her something like that?!” Jackson chided the boy and you heard a playful slap happen. “It’s obvious we don’t need to establish that, I’m her favourite!”

“Hang on, where on earth did you come to that conclusion?”

“Easily Mark, Y/N held my hand longer.”

Yugyeom snorted. “Maybe Y/N couldn’t decipher who’s chubby digits she was holding!”

“Hey!”

You laughed along with the others as the two playful members started to whiz around the room and realised that your love for GOT7 truly extended passed their music. They were welcoming and still seemed to be their dorky selves in front of you too. You appreciated it more than they probably realised.

The fan within you rejoiced to be in such great company again.

_________________

[Part 5]

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[shirtlesssammy]

8x22: Clip Show

Then:

Cas almost gets hit on by Dean 

Now:

Lost Creek, Colorado

A couple are at a cabin in the woods, and the woman is so happy that her boyfriend finally joined her. He acts like it’s no big deal but we flash back to a memory —specifically of Supernatural season 1, episode 2: Wendigo. He’s Tommy and has some serious PTSD from the terror he experienced that night in the woods.

He thinks he hears a growl and pulls his girlfriend away from the window. He knows that a Wendigo is outside and pulls out a flare to take the unseen monster out. He crumples to the floor and then just explodes right in front of his girlfriend. Eeerp.

At the bunker, the brothers continue to find records that the Men of Letters have kept over the years. Sam’s not doing so well due to all the Trials. He’ll feel better once they finish them.

Cas shows up in the war room, and it appears that Dean and Cas didn’t follow the golden rule of not going to bed angry. Dean doesn’t even acknowledge the angel. Cas is still convalescing. He sits down to talk with Sam a bit about the trials. Dean comes back with food for Sam—well, jerky, beer, and peanut butter cups. 

Cas offers to go with Dean for more food, but still gets the cold shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For everything.” Classic DeanCas, lol. (Brb, off to throw myself off a cliff.) Oh wait there’s more, Dean calls out Cas with the whole bolting with the angel tablet and adds, “You didn’t trust me?” 

THESE BOYS ARE NOT IN LOVE:

Cas is contrite but Dean is not accepting his apology. Sam stays out of it all for a bit but interrupts eventually to pull Dean aside to make it clear that Cas is one of the good guys. What’s that saying? Dean’s harder on Cas because he loves him the most? Well, meh, I do like their later seasons of grumpy banter more than the divisiveness of right now.

In any event, the brothers head to a storage room. 

Sam wants to find a case that their records mentioned. He finds the box, and Dean finds a dungeon! Sam’s box contained a movie film.

They set up the movie (They even made popcorn, guys!)

It’s an old black and white film of the Men of Letters. Josie, the woman that Abaddon possessed, is filming the experiment. They have a demon captured in the very dungeon the Winchesters just discovered. They throw holy water on the demon, recite an incantation at it, and then one priest cuts his hand and presses it on the demon. It flares out, apparently gone. The film stops. It was weird (!!!) One of the priests is still alive and Sam thinks it’s a good idea to get the lowdown on what they just watched on the film. Cas wants to go too but Dean won’t hear of it. (Brb, flinging myself off another cliff. DO NOT LIKE.)

Cut to the brothers meeting with the priest. He tells them that the other priest believed that demons could be saved. He thought that they could cure the demon and they could be a normal human soul again. There were other experiments after that one attempt, and then the priest ended up dead a couple months later. Something had torn him apart. Sam tries asking about records but goes into a coughing fit, complete with blood. He heads to the bathroom while Dean continues to talk with the priest. The priest agrees to give them the other priest’s papers.

Meanwhile, Cas is on a mission to make up with Dean. He’s at a Gas ’n Sip and pulling all the essentials to make Dean like him again.

Ways to woo Dean Winchester:

Beef Jerky

Porn

TP

Beer

Protein

AND Smiting the sap who can’t provide the pie

Cas almost smites the poor attendant. Metatron interrupts. They need to talk.

He wants to talk about Heaven. It’s apparently a mess up there without the archangels. Naomi isn’t in charge as much as she’s led Cas believe. Cas blames himself for everything that’s happened in heaven. (URGH, no! —I mean, yeah, but NO). Metatron thinks they can buddy up and save the day! They can sort everything out. First, they need to shut down Heaven. Then he mentioned crepes and flies away.

At the bunker, Sam can’t find Cas. Dean doesn’t care (URGH, no!) They decide to watch the last audio recording before the priest died.

Once again, there’s a demon in chains. This time, the priest injects the demon with purified blood. He continues to do this 8 times. And the demon seems to be cured. 

They decide to try the experiment out on their own decapitated Abaddon.

Meanwhile, Cas flaps over to Metatron’s brunch location, a cute restaurant with an outdoor patio overlooking the water. It’s a perfect place to relax!

Iconic dialogue alert: 

Waitress: Cool coat.

Cas: No, it's actually quite warm.

Waitress: Cute and funny. Okay…

Metatron: I should have picked a better looking vessel.

You’re not here to accidentally flirt with the waitstaff, Castiel! Cas asks for clarification on Metatron’s quest to close the gates of Heaven. Metatron waves it away as just another godly safety switch - you’ve got one for leviathans, demons, and Heaven, of course. Metatron tells Cas that it’s time for a heavenly lock-in to work out all their feelings. And he needs Cas, the warrior, to do it. Cas owns to feeling responsibility for the current state of Heaven but recoils when he hears the first trial. He’ll need to cut out the heart of the cute waitress, the sole nephilim on earth. (Pronounced in this episode as neph-IL-im.) “What’s more important?” Metatron asks. “Her life? Or your family?”

With season 9 under my belt, I watch Dean and Sam sewing Abaddon’s head on with particular horror. Like, you took on the Mark of Cain to defeat her, Dean Bean. Which led to a whole bucket of depression and sad men. Nobody likes buckets of sad men. (JK obviously I love it or what am I even doing here?) What a spectacularly bad idea! Still, it wouldn’t be my beloved show if characters were making smart choices. Abaddon wakes up, cracks her stitched neck, and greets them with “Morning, sunshines.” 

“I can’t wait to tear out those pretty green eyes,” she says, lovingly. The Winchesters smirk, drawing her attention to her handless state. (They chopped off her hands - or maybe just left them detached.)  “I’ll stump you to death,” she says and...that’s the spirit, Abaddon! She knows about the priest and his work curing demons. In fact, she was a special dispatch straight from Hell to make an example of him. The priest led her to Josie and possessing Josie helped her dismantle the entire Men of Letters network. Yeesh. 

The phone rings. It’s Crowley! Abaddon is appalled to learn that Crowley is the King of Hell. Dean and Sam leave the room to talk to Crowley and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BOYS they leave Abaddon alone. 

Outside, the Winchesters chat with Crowley. He directs them to some news stories, “sexts” them an address, and bids them farewell. They discover that Crowley’s been putting out hits on people the Winchesters have saved. 

While Crowley’s giving them the news, Abaddon makes like Thing from the Addams family and puppets her hands out of the loosely closed box on the table.

Her hand crawls into her mouth and pries out the demon trap bullet. It’s freedom time, mofos. 

The Winchesters return to find Abaddon gone. You FOOLS! Sam keeps his eyes on the prize, though. Crowley’s latest address is from their “witches and baked goods” case and is clearly a trap. Time to make a play to catch themselves a different demon. 

Prosperity, Indiana

The power’s out in the target’s apartment (and so are the cupcakes! yum!) Unfortunately, Jennie’s body is also out - sticking out of the oven, that is. “You were a great gal, Jennie Klein,” Dean says and...okay? Great mourning, everyone. 

Crowley calls them up again. He’s killing off everyone they’ve saved (and using the books as a reference guide) until they deliver the demon tablet to him. 

Metatron and Castiel stalk the waitress outside her place of work, Metatron goading Cas to make a choice. Urg. It’s just the bad decisions gang all around. She whirls around to confront them and saves them the trouble of introductions. “I could see your halos.” (I start to hum Beyoncé to avoid thinking about this next part.) Metatron calls her an abomination and she begs to be allowed to just live her life. (She apparently works twelve hours shifts as a waitress, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like she’s exploiting her power.) Cas looks disturbed, apologizing even as he advances on her. She throws him across the grounds like he’s nothing and then advances on Metatron. Castiel kills her from behind. Oof. 

The Winchesters race to the next location, only to discover Sarah - the art dealer Sam flirted heavily with several seasons ago. She’s staying in a seriously adorable hotel room, with actual art on display. Dean greets her like he’s just dropped by for a casual visit. OMG Dean. Sam briefs her on the plan. Devil’s traps at all the exits, shotguns, and an exorcism ready to play on loop. We learn that Sarah’s married with a kid. (Sam gets a peek at what-could-have-been.) Sarah tells him that he’s changed - he’s more confident and grown up. She misses the old haircut. Awww… 

Crowley calls and starts counting down and when he reaches zero, Sarah starts to choke. She collapses. “You son of a bitch!” Dean shouts. “Son of a witch,” Crowley clarifies - his mother taught him a few useful spells. The Winchesters start tearing apart the room to try and find a hex bag. Crowley continues his villain monologue: he’s keeping all things hell-related far away from the Winchesters - no more demons getting close enough for them to kill. 

“I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused – the ONE thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!”

I mean, when Crowley’s right, he’s right. 

Sarah dies. Ugh. UGH. Crowley gives an ultimatum: they stop their quest to close Hell or people keep dying. In rage, Dean hurls the phone across the room. When it breaks, they finally find the hex bag. (Me: But okay she only stopped breathing a minute ago? Start CCR and call 911!)

Back at the bunker, Sam is Not Okay™ and does not respond well to Dean’s attempts to cheer him up. Sam, who continues to look awful and exhausted, suggests giving in to Crowley. “We’ll kick it in the ass like we always do,” Dean insists. Rousing speech, babe. 

We fade to black, with everyone we love on dark paths of one kind or another.

______________________________

I NEED Quotes:

Well, that was weird with three exclamation points.

I NEED pie.

I can't wait to tear out those pretty green eyes.

First things first – what are you wearing?

You’d better find him toot-bloody-sweet. 

I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do.

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[niel-trbl]

I Know

Lover!Yang Hongseok x Colleague!Kang Kino AU

Note: well if you can’t tell, im kinda stuck on continuing my previous scenario and also another one that im still working on. hence why i managed to whip up this one! hope you enjoy this one! drop me some feedback or requests right here! (btw let me know if i should do part 2 to this!)

The clock finally struck twelve noon, meaning that it was time for lunch. Finally some time out of the office. You quickly tidied up your workspace before leaving.

“You’re in a rush,” your deskmate, Hani, looked over.

“Yup, Hongseok wanted to see me for lunch since he can’t make it for dinner,”

“Wait, do you think he’s-”

“WHAT, no no no. It can’t be... Anyway, I’ll see you later!” you quickly rushed out.

“Let me know how it goes!” you managed to catch what she said before you left.

Could it be? You noticed that Hongseok has been awfully sweet lately - always buying your favourite flowers, having dinner dates and whatnot. Sure you appreciate all of it but you were a little suspicious. So you asked Hani for her opinion on it and she popped the big question, “do you think he is going to propose to you?”

You’ve always had that thought, especially recently as you are moving forward into your fifth anniversary. Was it already time for this new phase of your relationship? It got you feeling a little excited, just at the thought of it. But you decided to put that thought at the back of your mind, just so that you won’t have any expectations.

Here you are, sitting at your favourite cafe with Hongseok, chatting while having lunch. Well, more like a one-sided conversation since he has been awfully quiet the whole time. You’ve always been able to pick up on his feelings or so you thought so you asked what was wrong.

“_________” your heart skipped a beat, hearing him call your name.

You weren’t ready for what he is going to say next. What should you do? How should you react? What should you say?

“Let’s not see each other,” this was not how you expected it to turn out.

Sure you said that you wasn’t expecting a proposal but a break-up was the very last thing you thought you would hear. You suddenly lost your appetite and everything just fell silent at your table.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Hongseok tried to reason with you. Such a cliche excuse and it obviously meant it was because of you.

“I’m sorry. How long do you want to not see each other? A week? Two weeks?” You compromised, trying to save your relationship that is at its ends.

“Which part of not seeing each other do you not understand? What makes you think we are getting back together? Stop trying to hang onto me! I don’t need you,”

“There’s someone else, right?” He tried to hide his shock expression when finally said something after the long pause.

That was all you need to confirm the intuition you had. You saw him through his lies. He didn’t need you only because he has someone else. When you asked him about why he treated you so well over the few weeks, he merely said that it was just to give you good memories of the relationship. Hearing this made you even more mad.

“Wow you really had to break up with me during my lunch hour,” at this point you were just spouting nonsense, trying to make sense of the situation at hand.

“Don’t cry. Goodbye,” Hongseok then took his leave.

Awhile after he left, you could finally find the strength to leave the place. You decided to take the longer route back to the office to clear your mind. You wanted to hold it all in but as you made your back, you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably. Conveniently, it started raining, almost as if it was trying to help you cover up your tear-stained face.

You can’t believe Hongseok did that to you. Did those years mean nothing to him? All those memories together, were they easily replaced? It was such a precious relationship to you. You actually thought it could lead to forever. But it just ended right before your eyes, with no prior warning.

You were making your way towards the traffic light, with your mind still occupied by the break-up. Just as you were about to cross the road, you felt someone grabbed you by the hand.

“You should be careful! You could’ve gotten into an accident,” the person then sheltered with their umbrella.

You looked up to see who was your saviour and it was Kino, your colleague and neighbour. He’s one of the kindest and sweetest person you’ve ever met in your department, apart from Hani. Even though you don’t talk to one another as much, he’s still very caring towards you.

“You’re soaking wet. Here, put on my jacket. You’re gonna catch a cold,” he placed his jacket over your shoulders.

You thanked him softly then continued walking with him in silence. As you stood by one another in the empty lift, Kino handed you a hankerchief.

“It seems like you had a rough day. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. But whatever it is, just know that you’re not alone,” he gave you a soft smile.

“Thanks Kino. It’s just... Hongseok just broke up with me. He said he didn’t need me anymore. But i’m pretty sure it’s because he already have someone else. Wow i can’t believe i’m blurting all of this out to you. I’m so sorry. I’m such a wreck right now,” you tidied yourself up, before heading back to the office.

“No no it’s okay. It’s times like this when you need someone to talk to. You should take the rest of the day off. I’ll tell the boss that you’re not feeling too well. Don’t worry, i won’t say a word about what happened. Just wait here, i’ll grab your stuff,”

After awhile, Kino came back out with your bag and told you that he already called for a cab to get you home.

“Your jacket?”

“It’s okay, you need it more. Don’t worry,” he gave you a soft smile again.

You thanked him then headed into the elevator. You quickly pressed the open button again when you heard him call your name again.

“Hongseok’s an asshole for treating you that way. I’m sorry you have to go through this. Take care ________,” you were touched by his genuine concern.

When you got home, you quickly shed off your work clothes then changed into your pyjamas. You literally just spent the whole day sobbing in bed. Hongseok don’t deserve these tears but you just kept on crying. The day slowly transitioned to night. It was only then when you dragged yourself out of bed to grab a bite from the kitchen. In that moment the doorbell rang. It was none other than Kino.

“Hey, sorry for disturbing you this late. But i thought you might be hungry?” He held up bags of take-out.

“Were you working overtime today? You really shouldn’t have bought food,” you invited him into your home.

“No it’s fine, it’s the least i could do. I just wanted to make sure you were doing fine,”

Both of you spent the rest of the time, eating together while you let out your emotions. Kino kindly listened through all of it. You felt bad for burdening him with everything but he kept insisting that it was okay, as long as it made you feel better. Honestly, it did made you feel better and you were very glad that he came by to accompany you.

The next day, you headed back to work as per normal. Thanks to that late night rant session with Kino, you felt a lot better. You still felt like shit but you had to move on.

“Hey, are you feeling better? Heard from Kino that you had stomach pains from lunch,” Hani went over the moment you got to your desk.

“Oh? Oh yeah, i’m feeling better. Good thing we bumped into each other. Hey, did you see the stack of papers on my table? I told boss that I’ll submit it to him by today since i missed yesterday,” you started going through your desk drawers.

“Kino took it yesterday. He was still working even after everyone left. Maybe he went through them,”

You headed over to his desk and saw the said stack of papers. As you flipped through them, you noticed that he already went through them. You were touched by his actions. He really didn’t have to but he even did your workload. You left a post-it on his table saying “thanks again. Lunch later? My treat”

You were curious why he cared so much for you, even though you were just colleagues. Kang Kino, what are you?

[soaimagines]

Scar Tissue

Request: Imagine Jax comforting you.

This was a very special imagine for a very special babe and I hope this is what you were wanting. Im not 100% happy with it but i wanted to get this out for you. I love you! 

Warnings: Death & Grief/Mourning

♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔

“The way sadness works is one of the strange riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down.”

♔

One year. It has been one year. It seems more real now. It felt real when you were sobbing on the bathroom floor and it felt real when you saw him in his casket. It was real when you got the phone call and it was real when you saw the flowers at his grave. It was real three months later when someone said his name and you had to leave the room because the pain and the memories hit you all at once and it was just too much to bare. But somehow it felt more real now. Knowing that it had been a year. Twelve months. 52 Weeks. 365 days. “Just give it time. Time heals everything” That’s what they said. They lied. He wasn’t supposed to leave you. He wasn’t supposed to be gone.He was your best friend and he was supposed to be by your side and you were supposed to be laughing together and getting into trouble like you had when you were younger. But now you found yourself dialling his number only to hear his voice on his voicemail. You questioned whether it had hurt this much when you first found out. At least then you were in shock. Now you knew just how much it would hurt for all the days that followed. It hurt on your birthday and it hurt on his. It hurt on Christmas and New Years and all the other holidays. It hurt on a Thursday afternoon when you could have sworn you saw his face in a passing stranger in the street. It hurt when you got a promotion and the first person you wanted to tell, the first number you dialed, never picked up. Of course, there had been good days. There had been days when you didn’t feel so broken, when the ache in your chest wasn’t so strong and you would go about your day feeling a semblance of what normal used to be and it would feel good and you would feel fine. But then you’d come across a smell that reminds you of him, or a song would play on the radio, that same song he used to sing when he was drunk and suddenly you’re not fine anymore. Seasons came and passed and now the trees are bare and the ground is covered in leaves and all you can think about was him. You could still remember it. The phone call. The last time you saw him. The last words he spoke. Those are the moments etched into your memory. You remembered every detail and oh, how they haunted you.

♔

It was early evening when you finally got home. Today was the day. Today it had been one year. You had made sure to keep your day busy, doing anything you could to keep your mind off of what today meant. But there was only so much you could do in a day and you finally arrived at home. Jax’s bike wasn’t in the driveway and you chewed your lip, debating whether or not you were up for a visit to the clubhouse. But the truth was you were exhausted from keeping yourself together all day so you pulled the keys out of the ignition and slid out of your car. Once inside you kicked off your shoes and tossed your purse onto the sofa before shrugging out of your jacket and tossing that in the same direction. As you walked into the kitchen you reached up and pulled the hair tie out of your hair and let it fall around you, sliding the elastic onto your wrist. You ran a hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face and took a deep breath as you pulled the bottle of Whiskey off the shelf before returning to the cupboard for a glass. You were halfway through the first glass when you heard a car pull up and you leant back to peer out the window through the blinds. Hmm. Opies truck rolled to a stop and you watched as Jax hopped out of it and began walking towards the front door. The front door opened and closed and only a moment later Jax entered the kitchen. “Hey darlin’” He said softly. You gave him a small smile and took a sip before swirling the glass in your hand. “Where’s your bike?” “Don’t worry about that.” He stepped closer to you and winked. “Go get dressed. We’re going out.” You sighed and placed your glass on the table. “Look, Jax I’m really not in the mood to go out.” He stopped in front of you and brought his hands to your face. He pushed back your hair and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I know, babe. Trust me. Get dressed.” You gave another defeated sigh but stood. Jax ran his hands down your arms and grasped them in his own before bringing them to his lips. “I haven’t forgotten what today is.” Tears stung the back of your eyes, threatening to spill over but you held them back. “I’ll get changed.” You whispered and kissed his lips before slinking off to the bedroom.

♔

After driving for almost an hour Jax pulled to the side of the road into an unmarked gravel driveway. “Where exactly are you taking me?” You asked. As far as you could tell you were in the middle of nowhere, probably on some of Elliot Oswald’s property and you weren’t sure what exactly Jax had planned. He didn’t answer, only flashed you a smile and a wink before driving on. A gate leading into a field had been left open and Jax drove through it before pulling to a stop in the centre of the field. “We’re here.” He smiled and slid out of the truck. You hopped out and glanced around the empty field, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. Jax had hopped up onto the bed of the truck and he offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you up. He had set up pillows and blankets in the bed of the truck and both of you knelt and laid against the pillows. He lifted his arm and you curled into his side before looking up at the sky. Billions of stars shone down on you and to call it beautiful wouldn’t do it justice. It was so much more than that, a blanket of darkness littered with stars and constellations. You couldn’t help but search for the brightest one and you found it directly above you. The tears you had held in all day began to flow and you didn’t try to stop them as you looked up at the star. Jax noticed and he squeezed you a little tighter and kissed your forehead. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t need him to. He simply held you while you cried and once the tears slowed and dried in your cheeks he turned to you. His hand moved up to cup your face and he wiped stray tears away with his thumb. You stayed like that for a little while longer, your eyes focused on each other as the stars shone above you. “Does it get easier?” You asked quietly. Jax pondered your words and thought about his father and all the loss he had endured in his life before he shook his head. “No.” He whispered. “You just learn to adjust. You learn how to live without them.” You nodded and closed your eyes and Jax kissed your forehead. “Darlin’ I don’t know what happens when you die. I don’t know if there’s a heaven and I guess none of us will ever know until we’re gone but wherever he is.. I know he loves you. And I know he’s proud of you.” His words set off the waterworks again and you sobbed silently in his arms. “You are so strong.” He whispered in your ear. “It’s okay baby, I’m here.” Jax wrapped his arms around you and rocked you gently while you cried “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.You’ll get through this.” With your head pressed against his chest you found comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. His fingers stroked through your hair as he held you close . Maybe you would never get over it and maybe that was okay.

♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔

@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @daniehelene27 @homicidalteenagedream@hellsmurf96 @yourcroweater @jasonmccannsgirl8699 @i-am-the-luna@aworldwideapart @jaaxsoadeaanspn @trinasoftballgirl @thejulietfarciertlove@coffeebooksandfandom @kacilove26 @seninjakitey @blacnekos@thewifeofsethrollins @docsangel @eternalmikaelson @middle–fingering@shan-xoxo @supernaturalanarchy

[ofshilohs-blog]

heyho, hi ! i’m incredibly late jane ( pls just ignore that the accepted post says sylvia .. i was v insecure if u catch my drift ), twenty, she & her and from the glorious gmt+2 tz. along with being an avid dc & marvel fan, memes cause 90% of my laughs which .. is sad now that i think about it but Anyways ! you’re here for shiloh and not me ( mayhaps a little bit. here’s to hoping right. ) read below at ur own risk, you’ve been warned alright .. also if you want to plot just hmu or like this & i’ll im you later !

SHILOH HARTELL — wait, you mean the AMETHYST ? yeah, i’ve heard of HER before. they’re a TWENTY-ONE year old DANIELLE CAMPBELL lookalike and identify as DEMIGIRL. people often describe them as THE ARCANE of this island. i definitely agree, though. i mean, not to be rude or anything but shiloh can be kinda PEREMPTORY and PARADOXICAL, but everyone has their bad days. however, they’re also TRUSTWORTHY and DILIGENT, which makes people admire them so much. i guess what i’m trying to say is that they’re a true gem.

BACKGROUND ( TW: CAR ACCIDENT, COMA & ALCOHOL/SMOKING MENTION )

first things first .. you can click on each word to find shiloh’s bio & headcanons but i don’t want u to waste five mins of your life so i’ll try to cut it down to three. SKSKJ

besides that i’m actually kind of proud of this kind of social media page ?? so mayhaps look at it .. if u want.

really getting started now though

born april hartell in toronto in 1996, before her younger brother june was born one year later.

( for the sake of .. lbr everything i’ll just go on calling her shiloh bc otherwise it’ll be too confusing w/ april & shiloh ) in her early yrs shiloh used to envy june and the way their parents always preferred him, but fast forward to now and shiloh’s soo very glad they did. she taught herself numerous things she probably would have never considered if she wasn’t “ignored” a good few months and even after she brought up being left out to her parents it continued.

when shiloh was twelve, her brother was diagnosed with copd or more commonly known as smoker’s lung, an obstructive lung disease which only caused the family dynamic to spiral down.

after the news sunk in the hartell’s did everything for their brother/son and during those times shiloh and june actually grew close. shiloh mostly took care of her brother when their parents went out or simply had to recharge. ( the next few sentences are from her bio bc it’s 2am n i’m tired bear with me plS ) nonetheless graduating was just as important as taking care of june. shiloh has been known as some kind of a contradiction during her school years, always being excessively studious and getting straight a’s while being surrounded by other popular kids due to being the cheerleading co-captain. at the time her schoolmates didn’t know anything about shiloh’s home life as she preferred to keep it that way. hanging out with them gave her a few hours of calmness, despite most of them trashing other people’s property or trying to set her up with the most basic but popular guy, until they realized she apparently had no interest in any form of relationship. but what no one, except for her brother, knew was that shiloh in fact had a friends with benefits agreement with some messed up guy from a local university. shiloh always told june it wasn’t serious in the slightest and she probably wouldn’t even talk to him if he didn’t have his own demons to deal with.

shiloh always blamed her father for june’s disease as it was caused by him smoking every day and having june next to him almost all the time. while shiloh never wanted to become like her father, years later she believes she did despite trying truly everything not to.

at age eighteen shiloh changed her name legally, now using april as a middle name and nickname for her parents to use. ( once again copied from her bio rip ) ever since graduating shiloh started making videos to compensate for the lack of other distractions, as she wasn’t interested in meaningless hookups anymore either. being exposed to even more knowledge and terms than before, the brunette found herself more and more.

while spiralling down due to constant pressure at home and online shiloh had weak moments of consuming too much alcohol which only caused to cloud her judgement. it was june’s eighteenth birthday when shiloh made a fatal mistake, driving while intoxicated caused their car to hit a tree and damage its occupants.

it wasn’t until one month later that shiloh woke up from a coma, as disorientated and concerned as ever. when she caught the sight of her brother without any severe injuries shiloh was finally able to breathe normally again, not realizing her heart rate went up significantly just moments before.

even though june always claimed the crash didn’t worsen his condition, shiloh kept blaming herself just like she blamed their father for what he did to her younger brother. during that time shiloh started seeing similarities between herself and him that didn’t even exist.

once again distancing herself from her family shiloh put out more and more videos. as she gained subscribers rapidly, shiloh decided to talk about her private life for the first time publicly, hoping it’ll help people in similar situations.

getting mostly positive feedback and encouraging comments, shiloh approached her family again. she tried making peace with her own mind about everything that happened in the past, almost promising herself to not act the same way ever again.

as june’s condition got worse year after year, it hit its lowest point in 2016. no temporary treatment helped and the family’s former inherited fortune shrunk every year after trying one high-priced experimental endeavour prior to another. shiloh and her family got closer during that time once again, but her parents also insisted on her being able to have a life on her own. 

while applying to the closest car shop to become a mechanic, shiloh cut all ties to social media in the process after making one last youtube video explaining why. 

as her family heard of the gem theory they believed it’d be for a good cause to set shiloh up for it. being skeptical at first, shiloh put more thought into it. what if it meant the money she’d receive could be used for yet another attempt at finding a cure for her brother, or even the organization itself developing one ? after a few tests shiloh was all too familiar with, the result of being a perfect fit for the project surprised her to a degree. while hoping to partake in the experiment for the sake of her younger brother, shiloh simultaneously didn’t want to leave her hometown for the very same reason. having a long talk with june, however, convinced shiloh to be a part of the gem theory. still being skeptical, she hoped for some kind of silver lining.

PERSONALITY ( TW: ALCOHOL & SMOKING MENTION )

as mentioned above shiloh is very eager to learn about basically everything. she always needs something to keep her occupied. as megan abbott once wrote there's something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls and while the quote is only semi-fitting it definitely can be used to describe shiloh’s high school years, always fooling around and screwing up while maintaining this picture perfect kind of image as co-captain of the cheer squad and a straight a student.

contradiction has always been a big part of shiloh, balancing between two stereotypes if you will: nerd vs. popular kid, first born vs. being the “lesser” child, being incredible romantic vs. meaningless hookups, keeping all feelings in vs. letting them all out at once, not believing in anything that can’t be touched/seen vs. believing in aliens.

absolutely despises cigarettes, blunts and everything else that can be smoked.

believes that wearing glitter as highlighter takes her closer to the stars and aliens.

the only alcoholic beverage she regularly consumes is any type of red wine.

for the first time in her life, shiloh’s been away from her family for more than a month. while appreciating being able to live her own life, homesickness hits her a lot.

shiloh’s a very structured person, disliking chaos and things that don’t seem to make any sense. suffering from ocd especially intensifies the former along with spending up to an hour with things such as rearranging belongings again and again, something others probably wouldn’t even notice. back when shiloh did youtube videos those had to have a certain length as well, sometimes even having to be re-filmed.

being on the island gives shiloh a bad taste in her mouth more often than not with everything that happened. as she’s a person who doesn’t necessarily likes being observed after her online presence, shiloh’s reminding herself of the promise she gave her family of not returning without anything more than ever.

this was all soo v serious omfg. but have this little fun ig tidbit that the only meme shiloh’s familiar with is that snl sketch dear sister bc she used to love the o.c. which inspired it so have that. keysmash

WANTED CONNECTIONS

alrigHT this is not to toot my own horn bc Yikes ! MXALDKS but i’m best at brainstorming and rambling when it comes to connections but will try to add some general ones to this part later or tomorrow as in monday bc it’s already past 3am n i’m [ madison beer vc ] dead.

[hufflepuff1998]

Jily after death

Please enjoy my latest oneshot about My favourite couple! (about 3000 words :/)

When James first died, there was a moment of happiness. He knew he’d died for his son and his wife – two of the things he had loved most in his life. He knew he’d died to save not only them, but his friends and the countless witches and wizards who were fighting against Voldemort and his reign of terror. In fact, the first thing he did when he woke up in a strange white place was to smile. He saw his parents and they smiled at him too, and hugged him. His happiness, however, was short lived as his wife appeared soon after, in floods of tears.

Lily’s hair was as vibrant as it had been in life and, despite James’ best efforts, there was no denying that it was her. James hugged her and held her close as she stood.

“We did all we could for him.” He whispered into her hair. Then they stood together. Waiting. Waiting for their one-year-old son to join them in this new world. They waited for a long time – hours it felt like. James’ parents had left and only James and Lily waited where they had appeared.

“What if he’s trapped?” Lily asked James, worried.

“He won’t be trapped, Lily.” James promised, although he himself wasn’t convinced.

Both were trapped in thoughts of their baby son who was somewhere, all alone. They were so consumed in these thoughts that they didn’t notice the world around them fade away and the nursery of their own house come into view. It wasn’t until they heard Harry’s distinctive cry that they turned and looked up.

“Harry!” Lily exclaimed and ran to him. She tried to pick him up, to comfort him, but couldn’t. Her hands just seemed to go straight through him.

“We’re dead, Lily. He can’t see or hear us.” James said, looking around the room at the devastation that surrounded them. Then he spotted the black mass that laid at Lily’s feet.

“But how?” Lily asked, her gaze was still on their crying son. After following his eyes, she saw that they were locked onto her own lifeless form at the door.

“Lil’, he’s dead.” James whispered. He was knelt by the black mass he had spotted earlier. “Voldemort’s dead.” James couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. His son was safe and, although both he and Lily had died in the process, they had finally defeated Voldemort. The Wizarding world was safe at last.

Their jubilation was cut short, however, as they heard the front door crash open and both of their thoughts flew to one of Voldemort’s notorious followers.

“James!” They heard the familiar voice of Hagrid who had presumably just found James’ body at the front door. He must have heard Harry’s cries, too, as he came pounding up the stairs and into the nursery. “Oh, Lily.” He cried. There were fat tears swelling in his huge eyes but he shook them off and turned his attention to the crying infant. “Come here, Harry. What an awful time you’ve had. Come on, we’ve got to meet Dumbledore.” He cradled the tiny babe in his huge arms. It looked strange for such a big man to be holding such a small child, but both James and Lily knew that Hagrid as actually one of the most caring people they had ever met. They followed him out of the room and back down the stairs, stepping over James’ body at the bottom of them, and out the open front door.

“Hagrid!” It was Sirius. “Is…is it true?” James’ best friend asked. Hagrid merely nodded as a huge tear rolled down his cheek. “Give me Harry.” He said, holding out his arms. “I’m his Godfather, it should be me who looks after him.” He begged. Hagrid seemed to consider this for a moment before shaking his head.

“Dumbledore told me to bring ‘im straight to ‘im.” Sirius nodded.

“Take my bike. I’m going to stay here for a while.” He said. Hagrid thanked him and climbed onto the motorbike and within moments flew into the air.

Once he had gone, Sirius took his first look at his best friends’ house. It was ruined; destroyed. He took one step into the house before collapsing into tears by James’ body. James struggled to do nothing – although he knew there was nothing he could do. He longed to tell him that everything would be OK, that he needed to help look after Harry, that he needed to speak to Dumbledore and that all of this would soon be sorted. But the dark room faded away and they were on a street.

It was a few hours later and quite a bit darker as none of the streetlights seemed to be on at the moment. It was an ordinary house on an ordinary street but the three people stood outside it were not normal muggles. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Rubeus Hagrid were all huddled around Harry outside one house which Lily recognised instantly, despite only having seen it once before when she visited her sister a week before they went into hiding.

“It’s Petunia. They’re leaving our son with my sister.” Lily whispered to James.

“At least he’s with family.” James whispered.

“Good luck.” They heard Dumbledore say these words as he placed a letter on top of the sleeping child and rang the doorbell. Before anyone came, the three of them disappeared, Hagrid on his motorbike, and the other two disapparating to somewhere else. Lily and James stayed, however, and witnessed Petunia open the door to find her sleeping Nephew (who she had never actually met in person) on her doorstep. She screamed and then picked up the child to take him inside before anyone else would see him.  

Lily and James both wanted to run into the house, to watch Petunia carefully and check that she would care for their son the way they would care for hers if the situation was reversed, but their time on Earth had ended and they could now only visit. They did this frequently over the following years and watched as their son grew up without them, not even knowing about the world that he had somehow saved; not knowing the true reason that his parents died. It was heart-breaking for his parents.

There was another situation that the pair managed to observe as well, which was almost as heart-breaking. Sirius found Peter in the middle of a muggle street.

“You betrayed them!” He shouted at the man who was almost half the size of him. Sirius’ eyes were full of hate and anger; his wand shook in his hand as he raised it to Peter’s throat.

“You don’t understand, Sirius!” Peter begged. “He would have killed me!”

“And now two of your best friends are dead and their son is an orphan. Is that a fair trade? Your cowardly life in place of two true Gryffindors; brave and loyal.” There were several muggles watching the events now, but Sirius had neither noticed nor did he seem to care.

“I’m sorry, Sirius.” Peter whispered. With a single wave of his wand, Peter caused an explosion that blew up the street and instantly killed most of the muggles going about. Somehow, Sirius survived the blast but was left stood by only Peter’s toe. Anyone who didn’t know his secret would think he was dead but Sirius laughed as he spotted a rat running away, attempting to put as little weight on his back paw as was possible.

Sirius was taken away, still laughing, by ministry officials and James screamed at them as he was taken to Azkaban for his crimes that included killing Peter and thirteen muggles, and causing the deaths of both James and Lily – none of which he was guilty of – but there was nothing that either James or Lily could do from the realm that they were currently in. Instead, they had to watch this injustice.

They spent most of the time that they could over the following years with Harry, trying to comfort him when he was made to be the Dursley’s servant and when he was locked in his tiny cupboard under the stairs. They were there when Harry performed accidental magic at the zoo, setting a snake on his cousin. This was also when they realised that their son was a parselmouth, though neither of them could figure of how as neither of them could do it and nor could their relatives. This was quickly over shadowed, however, by the Dursely’s obsession with Harry not going to Hogwarts. Lily felt responsible, she should have known that her sister’s hatred of her magic would force her to stop her son from achieving his destiny. Both, therefore, sighed in relief when Hagrid appeared at the lighthouse on the island and picked up Harry on his eleventh birthday (even if he did leave their nephew with a curly pink tail).

They watched as their son, aged just eleven, took on Voldemort (even if he didn’t know that was what he was doing at first) and they stood proudly as Harry looked into the mirror of Erised and saw his parents for the first time. James cried, he couldn’t hide it. He was so proud of his son and now, after ten years of watching, he could finally see him. Their love saved him from Voldemort once again at the very end of the year and they all realised that he was still not truly gone. They all knew that he would probably return soon and they feared for their son’s life.

But, at the start of his second year at school, they realised that he would be fine. The Durselys may not have been the family that the Potters would have been to Harry, but the Weasleys were doing all they could to welcome him into their folds and their family. Lily cried when Molly hugged him. She was happy that he finally had some kind of family; someone he could rely on, but Lily was devastated at the fact that that hadn’t been them since he was one, and it never would be again. But she watched with pride as he saved his new little sister from the clutches of Voldemort’s teenage self. James laughed, stating that gingers could never resist the Potter allure which allowed him an elbow in the ribs from Lily (which he could definitely feel).

By Harry’s third year at Hogwarts, it was a lot harder to check on James’ best friend as, after twelve years of imprisonment, he had escaped Azkaban, something both James and Lily were happy about, but was now on the run from the ministry and their dementors – something that James and Lily were not so keen on.

It was at this time that their other best friend was getting his life on track after twelve years of depression and had a new job starting in September as Harry’s own professor of Defence against the Dark Arts. James was particularly happy about this for two reasons: Remus Lupin was amazing at defensive magic – at all magic in fact – and he would be about a thousand times better than the hopeless excuses for teachers he’d had the past few years. But more than that, he’d have someone close to family watching over him.

Then Harry finally met his godfather, and he said he’d kill him. James cried, this wasn’t how he wanted his son to feel about these people. Lily cried, too. She’d loved Sirius but it meant a lot to her that Harry would want to hurt him because he thought it was his fault they were dead. But they were partly reunited, once Harry understood and freed him once and for all. James knew that Sirius would do all he could for Harry, whilst keeping out of sight to escape Azkaban.

The next year was hard for Harry, there was so much that he had to figure out for himself; so many challenges for him to face. Then they learned together that Voldemort was returning to his human form and was using Harry to do so. Harry saw his parents for only the second time that he could remember at this point – during a duel against the dark lord – but it was not them. It was a form of James and Lily, yes, but they had no control over what these forms said or did. They were glad that they had taken on enough of them, however, that they still did the right thing.

Less than a year after Harry had seen someone die, see the man who murdered his parents return, almost get killed himself, he lost one of his most important relationships: the one he was finally building with Sirius. Sirius saved Harry’s life two years after they met and fell through the veil at the Department of Mysteries. James caught him at the other side and smiled down at his best friend. As Sirius opened his eyes to see James and Lily smiling down at him, he lost the age that twelve years in Azkaban and two years on the run had caused him. As he smiled, the worry lines faded around his mouth, eyes, and forehead until he looked no different than he had the last time that James had seen him: the day before he died.

“Thank you for helping Harry.” James said as he hugged his friend for the first time in fourteen years.

“I couldn’t help him when he was young – when he needed me most. I’m sorry James, Lily, but you have to know that I would never-”

“Sirius, you weren’t our secret keeper.” Lily interrupted. “There was no way it could have been you and there was no second that we thought it could have been. We know it was Peter. And we know that it was his fault you ended up in Azkaban and couldn’t look after your Godson. But you did everything you could for him as soon as you could and we love you for that.” She promised him.

Harry was devastated, of course, at the loss of one of his very few father-figures at a time when he needed one most; when the world was becoming more dangerous once more after Voldemort’s official return. It became all the more worse as another figure went underground to help the cause with the werewolves, leaving Harry more alone than he had ever felt before. He still had Molly, the Weasleys and Hermione, though, and Lily couldn’t be more grateful for them being there for her son. By the end of the year, it looked as though everything might be turning out alright for Harry, for his friends, for the entire wizarding world.

But when Dumbledore died and left a mission for Harry, everyone realised that it was not over; that it would never truly be over. Harry’s mother and two fathers watched with pride as he and his friends managed to hide from Voldemort and the death eaters whilst simultaneously discovering the way to defeat him and doing so.

He was there, in Malfoy Manor, when the third marauder died – Peter.  He appeared, much like the others had, but took one look at the people he had betrayed before he disappeared again. As he left, he whispered “I’m sorry” but it was too late for his apologies…sixteen years too late. In many ways it was good for the three of them that he did leave, for there was no telling what any of them would do or say to him. After all, it was his fault that Harry had had to grow up alone and had no one to rely on as he faced all of the problems that he’d faced in the past sixteen years. James and Lily didn’t care that he’d betrayed them, they cared that he’d forced their son to face so many difficulties alone.

The fourth and final marauder died months later during the Battle of Hogwarts an Remus and his young wife joined the sadly growing group. Once again, there were thanks to them for looking after Harry as much as they had but neither of them lost any age like Sirius had. They had other priorities, as well. They cared about Harry, of course, but they also cared for their own son – Teddy – who had now been left an orphan.

Severus died as well, just hours later. He appeared too. Lily hugged him, but she was still angry with him.

“Thank you for doing the right thing in the end, but there was no need to bully my son for six years first.” She said. James had often thought that there was nothing scarier than Lily when she was angry. She never hit, she never shouted. She never screamed or did anything aggressive but the glare she gave to anyone who had deserved it was worse than all of the hexes and curses she had put on all of the death eaters she had fought all those years ago. Severus looked away from her, clearly he found this glare as bad as James always had.

“I’m sorry Lily.” He whispered. Lily rolled her eyes but said nothing. A second before he had died, Severus had told Harry the final part of Dumbledore’s plan and she had to watch him. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to do it – as it may be the only way to save the Wizarding World (and she would also be reunited with her only son) – but she didn’t want him to die.

His decision, however, mirrored the one that Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, Tonks and countless others had made. He chose to die at the hands of Voldemort in order to potentially save the lives of everyone else. He found the stone that could resurrect his parents and brought them back as spirits that only he could see. This, unlike the images he’d seen of them in his fourth year, was actually them. Lily, James, Remus and Sirius all smiled as they saw him, and knew that he could see them. Even better when he could speak to them.

“We’re so proud of you.” Lily told him for the first time.

“Does it hurt?” He asked them. Sirius shook his head.

“Quicker and easier than falling asleep.” He promised.

“Will you stay with me?” It was one of the first times in his life that Harry had allowed himself to be scared, and it would be the last time too.

“Until the very end.” James promised.

And they did. They stayed beside him until Voldemort cast his curse at Harry and both fell flat on the floor with a thud.

They all reappeared where they had been before, where Tonks stood, awaiting their return but Severus had left. Lily didn’t care. She stood and waited, beside her husband and their friends for her son. But he never appeared. She was taken back to that night on the 31st October 1981 when they had died but their son had somehow survived.

They were taken back to Harry, although he couldn’t see them this time, as he rolled from Hagrid’s arms and showed that he was alive. They were as surprised as his living friends and supporters who cheered and the battle recommenced.

It was hard to keep track of anyone but Lily, James and Sirius were glued to Harry whilst Remus and Tonks attempted to check on the other members of the Order of the Phoenix. They were there when Tom Riddle finally died as just that, as a human (or as human as someone who had killed hundreds of people and split his soul seven times).  And then it was finally over. The world was safe once more and Harry was safe to live his life with Ginny and his friends. They had three children: James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna, as well as half adopting Teddy Lupin into their home (although he really lived with Andromeda Tonks). All was well in his life as he lived the one that Lily had always dreamed of for him.

But, of course, everyone must die sometime. Harry died at a very good age of 106 but hugged his parents for the first time as if he was still the eleven year old who had found out the truth about himself and his parents. They hugged him back – even though he had now lived longer than them put together – and Lily cried.

“We love you and we were with you every step of the way.” She whispered.

“I know. I felt protected and loved by you both when I needed it most. When I felt lonely, when I felt hated. I always knew you were there and were proud of me and I love you too.

And for the first time in over a hundred years, James and Lily were reunited with their son. He was reunited with his wife a few years later and Lily was glad to finally meet the girl that had made him so happy. Finally, she knew her son and he knew her, and the same was true of James.